Beauty Bites (32 page)

“So your only protection is the sole extant picture of Nosferatu’s daughter proving she’s his daughter?”

“Since Elias turned us down,” Ric said. “Yes.”

“We used to have distance and secrecy going for us,” Aiden said. “But the world is shrinking. Secrets are a thing of the past.”

I took the phone from his hand and considered the picture. “You could probably get the photo enhanced. Wouldn’t that work as proof?”

Aiden shook his head. “Digital pics are too easy to photoshop. Even vampires know that.”

“Right,” I said. “But paintings are just as easy to alter.”

“Except we can get an expert to analyze a painting. Authenticate that it’s early nineteenth century, and hasn’t been altered.”

“Antique road show, huh?”

Aiden took the phone back with a twinkle in his eye.

“Bottom line,” Ric said. “We know the painting’s real and Nosferatu knows it’s real. That would have been enough of a threat to keep him at bay. The operative terms being ‘would have’.”

I nibbled my lip. “What about other allies? You’re a successful businessman. You have clout.”

“None who will stand against Nosferatu, especially when they hear I let one of my own trick me.”

Now I had another beef against Little. “Okay, what about you, Aiden? You’re…whatever you are. You taught Chuck Norris to be awesome.”

Aiden’s thin, sexy mouth quirked. “I have certain abilities. We both do. But we’re like Europe, sitting between the United States and the U.S.S.R.”

“Rich countries caught between superpowers,” Ric added.

“I had some history,” I said. “Even I get the cold war reference. Okay then. No other pry bars or coshes to use on Nosferatu, at least not any we can think of in the next six hours. That just means we’ll have to get the picture back.”

“Not we,” Ric said. “Me.”

“And me,” Aiden said.

I put hands on hips. “But not me. Because I’m a girl?”

“Because you’re human.”

“So is Little!”

“Little is in touch with Nosferatu, who has a vampire army behind him.”

“Fine. Then if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to dress for a day of doing absolutely nothing but creaming my complexion and eating bonbons. Whatever the hell they are.” Keeping my face turned because I couldn’t lie very well, I manufactured a stomp and went to my dresser to sneak out Twyla’s special Stealth Top, 80% spandex and 110% hot.

And then I went to plan my getaway with Twyla.

But when I knocked on Twyla’s door, she didn’t answer.

I knocked again, harder. Nothing. Worried, I knocked hard enough to make the door rattle.

From next door came a distinctly grouchy Bo-like growl. “Hold it down out there. Elena’s resting.”

That finally roused Twyla. “Go ‘way. I’m sleeping.”

“I need you. Open up or I’ll huff and puff and blow your door in!” Actually I’d probably huff and puff and turn blue in the face, but that wasn’t as dramatic.

Or effective. She opened the door, wearing a surly expression, which frankly was better than scared and lost like last night. “What the fuck do you want?”

“You, Grumpy.” I laughed. “Hey, we’re the dwarves.”

“What?”

“As in Snow White’s Seven. You’re Grumpy and I’m Doc. Heh.”

“There are only six of us, doofus.” Her face got long. “Five, without Nikos.”

“He’s recovering. He’ll be with us again in no time. Remember that; hold onto it. We’re definitely six.”

She shook her head. “Don’t lie to me. My guy poured out all his blood and I don’t know when I’ll see him again…if ever.”

“Dearest.” I took her hands. “Recovery is at least fifty percent incentive and Nikos has something to come back for. You.”

She blinked. “I hope you’re right.”

“I’m a doctor. Of course I’m right.”

“A doctor?” A ghost of a smile wavered on her lips. “I wondered if you’d call yourself that again. Okay, what do you want?”

“Where can we talk without the guys overhearing?”

“We’ll need to go outside. Give me five to get dressed.”

She emerged four minutes later. “This had better be good.” She preceded me through the lakeside front door.
 

From here I could see the water, sparkling blue between gaps in the trees, and relaxed in spite of everything. “We can talk?”

“We’ll still need to keep our voices down. What do you need?”

When I told her what was going on, and what I wanted her to do, all grumbles dropped away. I searched her intelligent brown eyes. “You understand what I’m up against?”

“Not what
you’re
up against. It’s Ric’s battle, and I really think you ought to let him fight it.”

“I’m not going to stand by while he risks everything—”

“Got it.” She held up her hand. “But you should think about what Elias said. He’s got the lock on Annoyingly Enigmatic, but he’s usually not talking out his ass.”

“I
have
been thinking about it. I even have an idea or two. But there’s this little deadline to meet first. I’m the only one who can field that.”

“Since Little asked for you specifically, yes. But I don’t want to leave Nikos.”

“I understand. I’d hoped, but…no, you stay here. Help me escape?”

“Maybe. Who’ll watch out for your skinny ass in Minneapolis?”

“I don’t need anyone—”

“You’re kidding. Did some beer help you decide that?”

I snapped my fingers. “I’ll call Rosie. She and her boyfriend live in Ric’s quote-condo community-unquote. They’ll guard my back.”

“Huh.” Twyla considered me. “You’re actually not too stupid to live.”

“We’re the same gene pool, doughhead. You’re only insulting yourself.”

We planned my escape for right after lunch, including Twyla disabling Bo’s shielded car and the sedan Aiden had arrived in so the guys couldn’t follow. Then I clasped her hands briefly before heading off to shower and shave.

Yes, shave, and not my chinny chin chin. Remember Twyla’s black heart thong? After drying off, I slipped into it and her push-up bra, throwing on jeans and the tight sleeveless Stealth Top over them. Not only did the skinny knit make my bosom stand out like twin basketballs, the snaps down the front, while now closed to the neck, later…well, let’s just say we’d start showing off the bra’s pretty lace and work down from there.

While Twyla made chicken noodle soup and grilled cheese sandwiches with fried onions, I went outside again to phone Rosie who agreed to gather Harry and meet me at three. At the smell of food, Elena woke. We took her a small portion of soup and some gelatin on a tray and ate with her in her room.

Bo was hovering. He kept touching his wife with feather-light strokes, caressing her hair, her face, her hand, syrupy if I hadn’t known what they’d been through. But I understood, only too well. He’d almost lost her.

It really didn’t bear thinking about. If he’d been a normal human being, if his friend Nikos hadn’t been a two-thousand-year-old vampire willing to sacrifice everything for her, she’d be dead, and possibly her baby with her.

Twyla had the right idea. Life was too short to love with anything less than full speed ahead.

If
the person was right for you.

As Elena ate, she told us what had happened. I knew most of it from Ric’s investigation but let her talk. Twyla and I weren’t the only ones at risk for PTSD. It was important for Elena to work out her traumatic experience at her own pace.

“After Bo dug in, I went to check the trolls. They’d been acting strange.” She spooned up some gelatin. “Hey, this is good for congealed horse hooves.”

“Eat your soup too, Detective.” Bo picked up a spoon and dipped up a bit, making sure to capture a cube of chicken meat, and held it to her lips. “Chicken noodle. Vitamin C. Good protein.”

“Yes dear.” She gave him a slight smile and sipped. “Anyway, I’d barely gotten to the cabin when out they came, carrying what looked suspiciously like a body wrapped in a black tarp. So I followed. They got to a clearing in the woods, set it down and started arguing about where to dig the hole. While they were distracted, I checked the tarp out. Sure enough, it was a guy, hands and feet tied, shot through the head. Suspicious death, burial in the woods. Well, I had to act.”

“You didn’t have to, Detective.” Bo’s voice and face were stern but his hand, feeding her more soup, was slow and gentle.

“Of course I did. I’m a cop.”

“Off duty.”

“We’re never off duty.” She pointed to the gelatin cup. He spooned a bite for her. After she ate it she went on. “I drew my gun and told them they were under arrest. They jumped me. I got a shot off but, well, there’s him.” She nodded down at her raised belly. “My body’s kinda unwieldy. I fought back but not very effectively. They disarmed me.”

She set down her cup. “Then they slashed me.” Her hand reached for Bo’s. She swallowed hard as her husband’s strong fingers circled hers and squeezed gently. “I was so worried. They ran off with the body, the proof, but for the first time I wasn’t thinking about the criminals getting away. I was worried about my baby. Whether he was okay. Oh God.” She stared at the wall but the sheen of her eyes said she was seeing a more horrific scene. “I would have done anything to make sure he was okay.”

I put a hand on her arm. “The baby’s fine. I checked myself. He’s fine.”

“Yes.” She drew a deep breath through her nostrils, let it out slowly. Her eyes came back to us, but she didn’t release her husband’s hand. “While I lay there, the blood must have drawn the rogue. A fledgling, barely turned.” She glanced at Bo. “We have to look into that. Whether he simply wandered into the area, or if there’s someone turning vampires here.” Releasing his hand, she picked up her spoon and started eating with more vigor. “The last thing I remember is you all showing up and telling me the baby was okay. That was what I was waiting for, hanging on for. Once I knew he was okay, I let go.”

Battle-ready Elena, more concerned for her child. That told me how much she loved her baby, her husband. Made me think maybe, if I got out of this alive, there were worse things on the planet than making a life with Ric.

And if I didn’t get out alive, I’d at least make sure the picture—and thus Ric—was safe.

We ate the rest of our lunch in silence. I was thinking about Chicken Little and the painting; Twyla, from her sad face, was thinking about Nikos; and Elena was just eating, pragmatically going about the job of regaining her strength.

But when she finished, she set one hand on her distended belly and touched Bo with the other. He put both hands over hers; over their child.

I knew then that I was doing the right thing. Even if I had to throw away fairness and self-respect.

When Twyla and I emerged from Elena’s room, the living room shades were drawn and Ric was sitting in a chair. His eyes followed me as I took the dishes to the sink. I’d been hoping I could just walk out, but from his narrowed gaze, that wasn’t happening. Ric suspected I was going to try something—which I was, but I wished I didn’t have to.

I wished I could stay snuggled up in bed with him all day. Nibbling his jaw, licking the curve of his chest, testing the weight of him in my hand—maybe making a few dreams come true.

Instead I nodded at Twyla as I set our stuff in the sink. Twyla pretended to notice the full kitchen garbage—the one she’d filled up earlier with every bit of trash she could find. She pulled the plastic liner out and tied it off, then lugged it to the back door.

Where she stopped, seemingly stymied. “Hey, Synnove. Can you open the door for me?”

She could have opened it herself—Twyla is nothing if not resourceful—but that was our ruse. “Sure,” I said brightly, too brightly. I winced and had to bite my cheek not to glance at Ric to see if he was buying it.

“What’s going on?” Suspicion edged his words.

That answered that. Never try to sell a salesperson.

“Nothing.” Suppressing the urge to whistle tunelessly, I sauntered to the kitchen door, a combination main door and screen door. I opened the first inward, then took the handle of the screen and walked it open, pretending I needed to do that to get out of Twyla’s way.

Which put me
out
side.

Twyla lugged the trash out toward the garbage and recycling. I let the screen go and started casually toward the car, pulling my keys from my pants pocket.

Ric’s face slammed into the screen. “What are you doing?”

I jumped. My keys jangled and my heart goosed into my throat. “Just forgot my purse…in the car.” Actually Twyla had put it there earlier when she’d stowed her 4G tablet that Ric had preset with Little’s transfers and reparked the car front end out for a fast getaway. I grinned at him, trying for unconcerned and, from his snarl, failing miserably. I backed nervously toward my sedan.

The screen door clicked open.

Damn it, it was a bright, sunny day. From what Twyla had told me and from what I’d seen of vampires smoked by the sun, Ric would burn up soon after he hit that sunlight. I’d had coffee spilled on me once and burns are painful with a capital P, as in Picture-getting-your-face-ripped-off. My skin screamed at me for days—and since the skin is the largest organ in the body, that’s a mess of screaming. I didn’t want that for Ric.