“The only thing you have is a death wish. I’ve already called Ash and told him what you’re up to.”
Uh-oh.
“I haven’t, however, called our superior and reported the situation.” He smiled then. A cold, callous expression that sent a chill straight through me. “If I do, your demon friend is going to be in a lot of trouble.”
“But Ash didn’t do anything.”
“He investigated a crime scene that was clearly in my jurisdiction, without permission. And he fed you information that should have remained confidential. Both charges are enough to kill his career. He’ll be back in hell faster than you can run that smart mouth of yours.”
Wow. We’re talking fast with a capital F.
“I don’t like anyone butting into my business.” He nailed me with a stare. His gaze brightened this time, his pupils shimmering like wisps of smoke. My head felt suddenly very heavy. “If you continue to follow Mordred, I will make sure that the death you face is far worse than that of your made vampire friend.”
While my sluggish brain couldn’t envision an ending that could be worse than getting Ginsued by an evil sorcerer, my gut told me that all-powerful Merlin could come up with something.
I ignored my trembling knees. What? I was in deep doody. I was entitled to a little raw terror.
“I wasn’t following Mordred,” I told him again. “Seriously. I had no idea he was even here.” When Merlin nailed me with another stare, I added, “I mean, I knew he was here in this town because you told me after I Googled him, but I wasn’t at the store looking for him. I was making an innocent purchase on behalf of my freaked-out friend.”
“She was carrying this.” Cheap held up the pink Colgate number I’d swiped from the store.
“See? I wasn’t lying.”
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves I wasn’t in the store for Mordred.”
“Maybe not, but you’re in Lonely Fork because of him.”
“No.” Not entirely. “I have a client here.” I thought of Elmer and his eagerness to find a Bingo partner. “In fact, I have several.”
“Name one.”
“I’m afraid that’s confidential information. In other words, none of your beeswax.”
It wasn’t the smartest thing to say, but I couldn’t help myself. I felt physically powerless (and way out of my BV comfort zone) and my mouth was the only thing working at the moment.
He waved a finger at me and I felt a strange tightening around my throat.
“You’re not funny,” he told me.
“Yeah, well, neither are you,” I croaked. “Your knock-knock jokes suck.”
He stared at me long and hard for a moment and the tightening continued until I thought my trachea would rupture.
Then as quickly as the sensation started, it ended. His expression eased. The finger fell to his side and relief swamped me.
“If you’re merely in town for a client, then I don’t have any reason to keep you here, now, do I? That is, unless you’re lying. Are you lying to me, Miss Marchette?”
“Who, me? I never lie.” At least not unless I was in an afterlife and death situation with Santa’s evil twin. “Just call me Abe.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he signaled his two henchman anyway. They went to work on the ropes, one at my hands and the other at my feet.
The pressure eased and the silver threaded rope fell away. The feeling quickly returned to my hands. My feet came next and I flexed my ankles. I became quickly aware of the fact that I could actually move the toes on my right foot. A quick glance down, and I knew why.
“Where’s my shoe?”
Cheap shrugged. “Must have fallen off when we were getting you into the car.”
“Did you pick it up?”
“What am I? A bellboy? My hands were full.”
“Don’t look at me.” Cheaper shrugged. “It was all I could do to keep from dropping you. You’re heavy. Not that you’re fat,” he blurted when my gaze narrowed to dangerous slits, “but you were dead weight at the time.”
“A lot of dead weight,” Cheap added.
This was not happening. First I’d lost Mordred. Now my shoe. “That was a three hundred dollar pair.”
“You spent three hundred dollars on shoes?”
“They’re special edition Cheyennes. Suede with leather soles. Fur-lined.”
“So?”
“So they’re fur-lined. You just don’t leave a shoe like that lying on the sidewalk somewhere.”
“I don’t know if it fell off on the sidewalk. It could have just as easily fallen off in the alley or the parking lot. We had to drag you a little ways.”
My backside throbbed in testimony, and righteous anger bolted through me. “If I weren’t so weak, I’d crack your head against that wall.”
“I thought you had an aversion to blood.”
“I’ll make an exception in your case.” I flashed him a little fang to prove my point and he stumbled back a few steps.
“Stand down, boys.” Merlin held up a hand. “I think you’d better go, Miss Marchette. And I don’t just mean back to the motel. Pack your bags and go back to New York.”
“I can’t do that. I have a client here who’s depending on me.”
He eyed me a long moment as if searching for something. “Stay, then,” he finally said. “But keep your distance from Mordred. No looking for him. No asking around town about him. Leave him alone. Is that clear?” He held up his finger to further his point and I felt the unmistakable tightening around my throat again.
“Crystal,” I rasped.
“Good.” His hand dropped to his side and he smiled. “Knock, knock,” he said as I pushed to my feet.
“Stuff a sock in it.” I stumbled past him and yanked open the door. His chuckle followed me out, along with the whisper soft promise, “We’ll be watching you.”
I limped around the outside of the Holiday Inn, stifled the urge to check myself in and found a dark spot where I could unleash my inner bat.
A few seconds later, I headed back to The Grande minus my shoe and Nina’s toothbrush. My head and legs hurt like a sonofabitch. I’d made a useless trip to Austin to be verbally abused by the twins from hell. I’d found Mordred, only to lose him. And I’d had my afterlife threatened. Talk about a shitty night.
But at least one good thing had come out of it—I’d had confirmation that Mordred was, indeed, in town.
And if he was here, so was Esther.
The flight back to the motel felt more like two hours than two minutes. Merlin had zapped my strength and my entire body felt as if I’d trudged up the Himalayas. The only thing I wanted was to crawl into bed.
Unfortunately, Nina had beat me to it. She was sprawled on top of the comforter. Three empty bottles of blood surrounded her and she was chugging a fourth. The television blazed, sending a sprinkle of shadows across the walls. Her tear-streaked face glistened in the dim light.
I immediately forgot my own misery in the face of hers.
Rob had called and it hadn’t gone well. That was the only explanation for the waterworks.
I waited for her to volunteer a little info, but when she kept her gaze trained on the screen, I knew I was going to have to ask.
Did he call? Did you tell him? Did he get mad?
“What’s up?” I heard myself say. Did I cut to the chase or what? I flipped on a nearby lamp and a soft yellow glow pushed back the shadows. Then I kicked off my one remaining flat and said a silent prayer that the mate had found a good home with someone who appreciated it as much as yours truly. Maybe a one-legged fashionista.
“I’m just watching this old black-and-white movie.”
“The TV is black-and-white. Every movie looks like that.”
“Oh.” She sniffled and took another swig of blood. “It’s really good. See, there’s this woman, Gwen, and she’s in love with this guy, Rudolfo, but she thinks he’s in love with his dead wife. He’s the captain of this pirate ship an
d she’s a nurse he picked up on one of his raids. He’s ransoming her, but he doesn’t really intend to take the money. He’s going to give the money to Gwen so she can fulfill her dream and start her own hospital when she gets back to civilization. See, he’s really in love with her and she’s in love with him even though she thinks he’s a shit for ransoming her. She thinks he’s out for revenge because he hates her. See, she couldn’t save his baby or his wife years ago during childbirth and so they died.”
“And they don’t just talk this out and avoid all the drama because …?”
“There wouldn’t be a movie if they did that.”
“But they might actually be happy—”
“Shush.” She waved me silent. “She’s about to try to escape while the ransom is being paid.”
I tossed my purse onto a nearby chair and was just about to collapse on the edge of the bed when my foot came up against something hard. I bent over to retrieve empty bottle number five.
“How many of these have you had?”
“How many did you bring?”
“Eight.”
She glanced at the partially full bottle in her hand. “Seven and a half.”
“You drank seven bottles of blood? In the last four hours?”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t help it. I woke up starved.” She took another swig and my gaze hooked on the red heat sliding into her mouth.
I felt like the kid who’s ice cream had melted before she’d had a chance to take a bite. “Those bottles were supposed to last me the duration of my trip.”
“I’ll buy you more.”
“There’s no place to buy bottled blood in Lonely Fork.”
“We’ll do takeout.”
And what, pray tell, is vamp takeout? Picture a hot Italian stud showing up with a nice pulsing artery for the ordering vamp and a double cheese and pepperoni to replenish his own strength after the fact.
“No takeout either.”
She shrugged again. “So go out and feed. What’s the big deal?”
The big deal was that I didn’t go out and feed. Not since I’d vowed to give up gratuitous sex and hot, ravenous feeding to find my One and Only.
All right, so I’d sworn off the hot, ravenous part even before that. While I knew I wasn’t consciously hurting anyone, I still felt a pang of guilt when I sank my fangs into some poor unsuspecting schmuck.
“You’re too sensitive,” Nina told me. “It’s just dinner.”
I watched her dab at her eyes. “I’m too sensitive?”
She sniffled and grabbed a Kleenex. “I may have overindulged just a teensy bit on the AB+.”
I picked up another discarded bottle. “Geez, you think?”
“I’m eating for two now.” She seemed to realize what she’d said and the tears started all over again. “I am eating for two,” she blubbered. “I am so screwed.”
“Babies are cute,” I heard myself say. Like I knew. “Sweet. Cuddly.” When she didn’t seem convinced, I added, “Besides, you can find some really hot baby clothes these days.” That got her attention. “Gwen Stefani has that entire line that she did for Kingston. And I saw Tom and Katie’s baby wearing Baby Chanel in the last InStyle.”
“Really?”
Not. But it sounded good and it was enough to slow the tears. “And Baby Gucci,” I assured her. “You’ll have the trendiest baby in New York.”
“I will, won’t I?” she asked as she handed over what was left in the last bottle of blood. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”
“It’ll be great. Now come on.” I tugged her to her feet.
“Where are we going?”
“You’re going to take a shower. It’ll help clear your head.” I led her into the bathroom and turned on the spray. “Relax and pull yourself together. I’ll leave some clean clothes by the sink.” I turned to leave while she peeled off her clothes.
“Lil.” Her soft voice stopped me just outside the doorway. “Thanks.”
Before I could say anything, she stepped into the shower.
I walked back into the bedroom, snatched up a tissue and wiped at my own suddenly misty eyes.
Sympathy tears.
That’s what I told myself.
Nina’s hormones were raging so mine were obviously joining the protest. I’m a vampire, after all. We lived by the three Nos: 1) no tears, 2) no compassion, 3) no polyester. No way was I crying because I was touched or because I’d had a rotten night or because Esther was still missing or because I’d lost my stupid shoe.
And no friggin’ way was I crying because Rudolfo let Gwen walk away after the ransom drop without ever telling her that he loved her. Sure, he told her about the hospital and that he didn’t blame her for his dead wife and son. But he didn’t say the word.
Because he was a clueless jerk, no doubt.
Well, that and the fact that there was still a good half hour left. The producers were obviously leaving that little tidbit until the very end.
Sure enough, Rudolfo redeemed himself and they all lived happily ever after.
I gushed all of five seconds before my stomach growled. I grabbed a few dollars out of my purse and headed down to the lobby. Elmer had his Come Back Later sign posted and the TV turned full blast. I listened to a few questions from Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader? (for the record, I definitely was) as I walked over to the small fridge. I stuffed a few dollars into the pickle jar and pulled out a Mountain Dew. It wasn’t anywhere close to a Red Bull and vodka, but I was out of options. A sugar rush would have to do. I listened to a geography question as I guzzled the can and then grabbed another.
By the time I got back to the room, I was wired and seriously considering an appearance on national television. I’d so nailed the question about Yellowstone National Park.
“Hey.” Nina was sitting on the bed again. She wore my favorite Armani tee and a pair of yoga pants. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail and her lips were glossy and slick with MAC Tahitian Sunrise.
“Somebody feels better.”
“A shower was just what I needed.” She indicated my cell on the nightstand. “Your phone was ringing so I picked it up. Evie said to tell you she fixed up Tabitha with some guy named Miller.”
“You mean Milner?” I did a quick rifle through my mental file. “The manorexic English teacher from Queens?”
“Evie said he’s not a manorexic. He’s just thin because he’s a vegan. He’s also a fierce advocate for PETA, not that he included that on his profile. Evie just found that out tonight.”
“What happened?”
“Tabitha was pressing her to meet Mr. Tall, Dark and Six Foot Two, and Milner met the height requirement. So Evie set up the date and sent them to Jack Hughey’s.”
“The steak place?”
Nina nodded and dread rolled through me. “It seems this guy Milner tried to rescue Tabitha’s rib eye before she could cut into it. They ended up in a fist fight in the parking lot.”
Why me?
“Tabitha’s fine,” Nina went on. “Just a few cuts and bruises, but Milner was so weak from lack of proper nutrition that he couldn’t really hold his own. He’s got two broken ribs and a broken nose. And he had to have stitches because Tabitha stabbed him with her steak knife when he tried to take the meat away from her.”
Ouch.
“Evie said she tried to make peace with both of them. She bought Tabitha a membership to the Steak of the Month Club and sent a year’s supply of Dietrim to Milner.” At my arched eyebrow, she added, “They’re the only diet supplement that doesn’t experiment on animals. Anyhow. Tabitha’s dead-set on talking to you now. Evie told her you were out of town, but that just made her all the more anxious. Evie wants you to call her ASAP.”
I was starting to think my night couldn’t get any worse, when the faint scent of cherries jubilee and Chanel No. 5 wafted through the air and wrinkled my nose.
Nah.
No way.
Not no, but hell no.
Denial raged through my
head, followed by a jolt of panic when the click clack of expensive high heels thundered in my ear drums. The scent grew stronger and the doorknob trembled. I bolted to my feet, but it was too late. The door opened and there she was. My worst nightmare.
“Ma?”
It was the sedative.
And the lack of sustenance.
And the stress.
All three were screwing with my brain waves and causing hallucinations. That’s what I told myself. But no amount of blinking (or praying) could make my mother disappear.
She was real and she was here and I was so screwed.
She stood there in the doorway looking as Vogue as ever in a gray Stella McCartney shift dress and gray python Christian Louboutins. She carried an alligator bag that matched the eight suitcases stacked behind her and a smile so big and wide that it made my legs shake.
“I came as soon as you called,” she declared, her voice shattering the steady PleaseGodNo that echoed over and over in my head.
“But I didn’t—”
“No, no, don’t apologize for dragging me away from your father. Sure, he’s this close to losing it completely and nuking our entire neighborhood with this homemade contraption he’s been building, but he’ll just have to blow himself up without me. As if a bomb is going to get rid of Viola. I keep telling him werewolves are like cockroaches, but the man is obsessed. I’ve got Remy keeping tabs on him for me, so I’m all yours. We think it’s lovely of you to invite us down to share this experience.”
“We?”
“Hi, Lil.” Mandy picked her way past the luggage and came up next to my mother. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Inviting you?” Cut me some slack. We’re talking my worst nightmare here.
“To participate in your retreat,” my mother said. “I’ve always wanted to focus on my inner strengths. Of course, we vamperes have both inner and outer strength and I don’t really see the difference. But I’m always up for new challenges and experiences.”
Sucker for Love: The Dead-End Dating Novel Page 17