Dead and Dateless (7 page)

“You look like shit,” he told me when he finally walked back into the room just a precious fifteen minutes before sunrise.

Okay, I knew I wasn’t about to win any Miss Vamp America contest, but I didn’t look
that
bad. “Geez, thanks a lot. I love you, too.” I opened the thick envelope he handed me.

“I drained the cash from four different machines. I hope it’s enough.”

“It’s plenty.” My eyes met his. “I owe you.”

“Forget it.” His gaze narrowed as he eyed me. “You really should lie down.”

“I will just as soon as I find someplace safe.” I glanced at the wall clock. Thirteen minutes and counting. Yikes! I stuffed the envelope into my pocket. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

“You’ll never make it,” Mandy said as she slid one of the drawers closed with a loud
clunk.

“I saw a small hotel just a few blocks over.”

“Mandy and I went there,” Jack added, “to, well, you know, and we spent fifteen minutes at the registration desk alone.”

Can you say too much information? “I’ll make it,” I told him. When he shook his head and shrugged, I added, “I have to make it.”

“Not necessarily.” He and Mandy exchanged glances and the meaning hit me like a punch to the stomach.

“I know what you’re thinking and don’t,” I told him, but he said the words anyway.

“You could crash here.”

Ewwwww.

At my horrified expression, he smiled. “Man, but you’re squeamish.”

“Damn straight I’m squeamish. We’re in a room full of dead people. No offense,” I told Mandy.

“Sis, you’re a vampire.” He walked over to one of the drawers and tugged the handle. It slid free, exposing an empty drawer that consisted of a body-length stainless steel table. “Get over it.”

“I’m a born vampire. Meaning I’ve never kicked the bucket.”

“You’re still dead by society’s standards.”

“That is totally beside the point.”

“Being?”

“They’re
dead.
”

“And you will be too if you don’t find a place to crash for tonight. Don’t be such a wuss. I’ve done it.” He gazed adoringly at Mandy, who’d turned to retrieve some clean sheets from a large utility shelf on the far side of the room.

I know, right? My
brother. Gazing.

“You’re totally freaking me out,” I told him.

“There’s nothing freaky about it. It’s just a sliding coffin. Our kind have slept in them for years. Hell, Dad still does.”

“Dad’s eccentric, and I’m not talking about the drawer. I’m talking about you and Mandy.” I lowered my voice and glanced at Mandy. She didn’t skip a beat as she retrieved the linens and carefully refolded one that had come loose from the top of the stack. “Think about it, Jack. You’ve gone from crashing on fab Egyptian cotton sheets and a pillow-top mattress to crawling into a morgue drawer. For a woman.” A
human
woman, I added silently.

He smiled. “Mandy’s a resident.”

“And?”

“And she puts in a lot of hours, which doesn’t really facilitate a relationship. So we work around it. If I crash here during her shift, that means she gets to kiss me good night and good morning, and I don’t have to waste time going home.”

“You live ten minutes away.”

“Ten minutes away from Mandy is ten minutes too long.”

Okay, so now he was
really
freaking me out.

I checked his forehead. Cool as usual. Not that vampires could actually get sick, but I had to make sure. Because if it wasn’t some bizarre virus affecting only macho, condescending, womanizing male vampires, then it could only mean…

I felt my smile spread from ear to ear. “You’re in love.”

My expression was infectious and he beamed. “You bet.”

“Do Mom and Dad know? I mean, I know they know about Mandy, but did you say that you—”

“No,” he cut in. “Not yet. I told them about her and I’ve set up a meeting to introduce them to her parents. We figured we would tell them then.”

“At tea?” At his questioning glance, I added, “I overheard them when I was hiding out in the pool house.”

“They were talking about meeting us for tea?” An anxious light fired his eyes. “What were they saying? Are they coming? They have to come. I mean, I know they don’t
have
to, but they have to. They’re my parents, right? They should want to meet the woman that I want to spend eternity with—”

“Relax,” I cut in. “They’re coming, but they’re not exactly happy about it.”

Relief swept his features. “They don’t have to be happy. They just need to show up.”

“What about me? Can I come, too?” If I wasn’t dead or playing bitch to a cell mate named Big Mama.

I forced aside the last thought and clung to my newfound hope. Money. Safe place. After life was good.

“Why would you want to come? You hate tea,” Jack told me.

“True, but I love seeing Mom freaked when it isn’t my fault.”

He grinned and eyed the stainless-steel tray. “Are you going to get on or not?”

“Not.” Even as the word slipped from my lips, I knew I had no other choice. The sun was just coming up. I couldn’t risk walking out of the building right now. I had to crash here. I could look for an empty room, or maybe a broom closet, but both would be too accessible while I was at my weakest.

They didn’t call it the sleep of the dead for nothing. Once I zonked out, I would be completely vulnerable, and if I did manage to wake up at the first sign of danger, I would be too weak to defend myself.

I needed someplace that was dark and quiet and, most of all, secure until sunset. And I needed it right now.

“Can I at least get a blanket or something?”

“Mandy?” He called Mandy over. “Lil wants a blanket.”

“We don’t keep blankets on hand, but I’ve got these.” She held up the sheets. When I nodded, she added, “I could get a few more and we could double them up to make it a little softer.” When I nodded, she smiled and turned toward the utility shelf. “Give me just a sec.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I told Jack as I spread out the half dozen sheets Mandy handed me before climbing onto the stainless steel table.

“It’s really not that bad. And I’ll be right next to you.”

“No, you won’t,” Mandy told him as she came up behind him. “They put a suicide in your usual spot.” She slid her hand up his arm. “But I cleared out a new spot for you right near the autopsy room. And”—she smiled—“I even brought you your favorite pillow from home.” She handed him the white wedge of fluff.

“Aw, thanks, babe. That’s so sweet.”

Like I know the whole exchange sounds sort of creepy what with the whole morgue setting and all, but I felt a warmth in my chest anyway.

Not that I was in any way condoning my brother’s relationship with a human. He should have fallen for a born vampire who could give him baby vamps and, more important, give my parents some grandchildren to take the heat off of
moi.

But, hey, I’m a matchmaker. Love is what I do.

“Here are a few more sheets to cover with,” Mandy said. “Don’t worry. You’ll be safe here. The only time the drawers are opened is when a body’s being transferred or taken to autopsy, and it’s part of my job to sign everyone in and out.”

“So you’re the drawer opener?”

She smiled. “Among other things. I dictate who gets put where and when. I also assist in the autopsy room as part of my residency. That’s how I met your brother. He was a car crash DOA. We bagged and tagged him and put him in that top drawer right over there. That was early in the morning when I’d just arrived. Later that day, I was doing my evening check when I heard the drawer open. I looked up and there he was. It was love at first sight.”

“That’s after she passed out from shock,” Jack said.

“Jack revived me and explained the situation.”

“And you were cool with it?”

“Of course. I’ve always suspected that vampires exist. I’ve even fantasized about them. Jack’s my fantasy come true.”

“That’s so sweet, babe.”

“You’re sweet.” She snuggled his arm and inhaled. “Literally. He’s so yummy. I could smell him forever and never get tired of it.”

“You can
smell
him?”

“I couldn’t at first, but after we…” Her words faded away, but her thoughts didn’t and I found my self glancing at the clock again, eager to focus on something other than the vivid image of Mandy and my brother and—

“Would you look at the time?” I blurted. I snatched the pillow from Jack’s hands and stretched out on my back. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Love hurts, bro. Love hurts.” I wedged the pillow up under my head and tried to ignore the cold feel of the tray seeping through the sheets.

“Pretty comfy, huh?” Jack asked.

“You’re deranged.”

“Just close your eyes and sleep.”

“I’ll close my eyes,” I said as he started to slide the drawer in. “But I can’t imagine I’ll get any sleep.”

“You’re a vampire. Trust me, you’ll sleep.”

“Says you,” I replied just as the drawer slid completely shut. Metal clicked. Blackness settled around me. My heart chugged like a freight train racing for the next stop.

Ka-thunk, ka-thunk, ka-thunk…

Sleep? Yeah, right.

I was in the morgue, for Damien’s sake. On the run for a murder I didn’t commit. I had no money of my own. On top of that, the damned tray was as hard as a rock. And cold.

I shifted for a more comfortable position and forced myself to take a mental detour away from the misery of my predicament. Instead I headed for my triple M fantasy—Mexican beach, megalicious bounty hunter, and mango margarita.

Now that was more like it. I had sand. I had rays. I had a really killer Italian leather bikini.

Ty loomed over me, blotting out the warm sun as his hands trailed over my body. Leather fell away and the bikini landed in a heap next to me. He reached for the frosty glass and the mango concoction dribbled onto my bare stomach. The sticky juice slid over my heated flesh.

He smiled again and then he leaned down. His tongue flicked my…
Zzzzzzzzzz
!

“T
he decedent is a twenty-six-year-old white female transient found in an alley near Fifty-second Street by other transients. Apparent cause of death was strangulation.”

The voice slid under the cover of sleep and wiggled its way down next to me. Ugh. My neighbor was watching another
CSI
rerun.

Now I like
CSI
as much as the next person. Sort of. I mean, my receptionist, Evie, is somewhat of a junkie and I have to admit that I don’t totally understand that. But overall, I think it’s all right. In a morbid, depressing sort of way. I mean, geez, a dead body here, a dead body there. It’s enough to make the average person rethink the whole people-are-basically-good-if-you-can-get-past-all-the-crap concept.

I desperately needed to drag my ass out of bed and knock on the wall. But exhaustion still tugged at my arms and legs and the only thing I really wanted to do was stay right where I was, my feet nice and toasty under the sheets.

“There don’t appear to be any ligature marks on the victim’s throat.”

Duh. She didn’t die of strangulation, buddy. If it were that easy, the ratings wouldn’t be so high.

“Vessels around the mouth and nose appear in tact.”

Another big surprise. The nails, guy. Check under the nails.

“There are no apparent signs of bruising on the extremities. Nails are well manicured and appear intact.”

Atta boy.

“Are you sure this victim was ruled a strangulation?”

“That’s what the file says, doc. Said the body had all the classic signs.”

“To a rookie, maybe. If this woman was strangled, I’m Britney Spears. There’s something else going on here.”

Uh,
yeah.

A camera clicked and the flash
cha-chunk
ed. Once. Twice. Loud. Talk about a building association meet ing just waiting to happen.

“Let’s get ready to open her up and take a look.” The doctor traced the Y path of incision with a blunt edge. (I definitely needed to get a life, right? I shouldn’t know this stuff.) “Looks good,” the man said. “Let’s make the first cut.” He touched the tip of the scalpel to the victim’s breastbone and white-hot pain rushed through the victim, straight to her brain.

Wait a second.

That was
my
brain.

My eyes snapped open and I found myself staring up into the face of a middle-aged man with glasses and a receding hairline.

He screamed and I screamed.

Yeah, I know. Not a totally vampy thing to do, but we’re talking a
scalpel.

Blood oozed from the small cut as I scrambled from the stainless steel table. Metal clanged and instruments scattered.

“Holy shit!” The man holding the camera lost his grip as I hit my feet. The Polaroid sailed to the floor and shattered. “She’s alive.”

Even more, she was
naked.

Like, I’m totally proud of my body, but I don’t make a habit of walking around
au naturel,
and so this freaked me out almost as much as getting sliced and diced.

Frantic, my gaze darted around until I saw a stack of folded sheets. In the blink of an eye, I’d wrapped myself in one and was desperately looking for an exit while the pathologist and his assistant stood there, stunned. Then my brother rushed in, Dr. Mandy on his heels.