Dead Vampires Don't Date (2 page)

Bright red hair caught in a ponytail set off his grass green eyes. A large ruby winked at me from his left ear. His skin was so smooth I actually thought Botox before I remembered that needles couldn't pierce a vampire's skin.

The Prince looked to be in his early twenties, but that whole thing about looks being deceiving took on an entirely different meaning with the HC.

He'd put down 1522 on his application for the year he was born. He couldn't remember the exact date.

Prince Xavier smiled. A dimple creased the side of his mouth. "I can't tell you how excited I am."

Wonderful. He was thrilled and I was counting down my last remaining hours.

No one
came out of the closet in the humanly-challenged community. Though in the prince's case I guess – technically - that would be coming out of the coffin.

That's what the myths were for. The chaos that would ensue . . . a stampeding herd of wild water buffalo couldn't go as crazy as the humans would.

And I'd been worried that I wouldn't be able to find him the best match for his bride. Silly, silly me.

I had to try.

"Prince Xavier," I began.

"Xavier, please," he insisted.

"Xavier." I forced my lips to attempt a smile. "You do realize that if I match you with a human . . ." I trailed off, not certain how to continue. How do you explain basic elementary rules to a centuries old vamp who should damn well know better?

"Yes. Yes. Of course." He placed one well-manicured hand against his cheek.

I perked up. Maybe he was just slow?

"I forgot to explain my campaign to you." Campaign? "My wedding will be the first step in the revolution to combine the human culture with our own."

I saw it then in his eyes. He wasn't slow or still living in an era before phones with video capability documented everything. He was crazy. Just plain crazy.

2. Body Dumping 101.

I held the door open as Xavier, Prince of the United States Vampires and all around nut-job, left my office. He slid in behind the steering wheel of the silver Jag he'd left parked right in front. I waved with great gusto as he drove off.

I waited until his car turned the corner before I closed and locked my door then entered my office to begin screaming and pounding my fists on my desk.

Why me?

The eternal question - although to some a bit more eternal than others.

Of all the dating agencies in the world why, oh why, did the crazy Prince of Vamps have to walk into mine?

I loved my job. This is my baby, my chance to at least take a vicarious role in love since I'll never get to experience the whole thing myself. I'm cursed. I've made my peace with that. Honest.

I deal with my own inner demons through my agency.

Unfortunately, not the hunky, tat and scar sporting variety either.

I've built it and cared for it and babied it since I opened my doors two years ago. This is my true calling. And now one crazy prince was going to bring it all crashing down.

I glanced around my office, taking it in. Actually I have two offices, side by side. One for the humans and one for the humanly-challenged.

I was in the HC one. My favorite.

A deep, heavy Cabernet colored the walls. Two paintings hung behind my desk depicting Greek and Norse mythological tales.

Mythology. History. Depends on your gene pool.

A large grouping of black and white photographs, each in a simple ebony frame, took up a good portion of the wall to the left of my desk. The photos were all of various non-human species in their more
colorful
forms. My aunt is an amazing photographer.

Embellished with gold paint, an enormous Celtic knot wove its way in graceful, sinuous lines on the wall to my right. Most witch families have symbols. Ours is the True Lovers knot. The irony never fails to make me cackle.

Mwah, mwah, mwah.

Two cushioned wing chairs, with a small table in between, created a comfortable place for me to interrog- , uh, interview my clients. A tall flowering plant with a delicate pink middle and rose tipped edges sat on the table. The Adam and Eve Orchid.

The chairs are upholstered in red silk and adorned with various black spell symbols for truth, love and money. Hey, a witch has gotta make a living.

My desk is old and scarred. Practically ancient. It had been my mother's as a young woman. It's one of the few tangible things I have of hers. I love this room. It's my sanctuary. My independence. My heart.

I wondered how much longer I would have it.

Opening my drawer, I grabbed my wand. I could do with a little target practice right now. I always thought much better with wand in hand.

Now, if only I could figure out what to do with a crazy prince?

****

Approximately four hours later, I discovered that I no longer had to worry about my problem. Someone had taken care of it for me. Regrettably, they had dumped the body at my back door.

I caught myself as I went to check for a pulse. Ha. Good one. Check a vamp for a pulse.

Ha. Ha.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

I bit my lip to stop the hysteria.

No way anyone - Prince of Vampires or not - had survived this. The tree branch used for a stake was long enough to sway with the night breeze as it protruded from his chest.

Blood pooled beneath his body and lingered on the lightly fluttering leaves of the branch.

Funny, I hadn't realized vamps bled. I did know they didn't poof into a charred pile of ash once staked. Hollywood - always needing a good special effect. However, it looked like vamps did tend to go gooey. Rather fast.

I couldn't go to the police - the prince was a vamp - and I certainly couldn't tell the vampires – they'd kill me first. I doubt they'd even ask questions afterwards.

I had to get rid of the body.

I took a step back, reaching into my pocket for my phone. Spirits, he stunk too, a really weird combination of roses and pickles.

My fingers hit the appropriate buttons all on their own.

My mind circled busily around in an: "
Oh yay! Oh shit!"
fashion. I wasn't sure which side would win.

Three rings later a voice said, "Hey Chicky."

My knees threatened to buckle. I braced my hand on the windowsill at the back of my building.

"Hey Morgan!" I aimed for a totally cheerful no-dead-bodies-at-
my
-backdoor tone. I wasn't entirely certain I nailed it. This was the first dead body at my back door.

Plus Morgan is a vamp herself. I knew she wasn't overly fond of the prince, but . . . I didn't have any other choice.

I cleared my throat to get rid of the sudden dryness. "Are you by any chance free right now?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I'm at my office. I need help disposing of a body." My voice cracked. I couldn't help it.

"Ooh, goody. One of my favorite things. I'll be right there." She hung up.

Vamps. Go figure. She hadn't even asked
whose
body.

****

There are few things that scream
BEST FRIEND
louder than someone who will help you bury the body. In fact, I couldn't think of anything that even came close. And if they are a vamp and can actually carry said body all by themselves, so much the better.

I carried the shovel.

We were tromping across a field toward the woods.

A large part of the HC community lives in the western part of the United States. Less population and more open spaces to hunt prey for the more fang-y inclined.

The four-legged variety, not the two. I didn't bother checking the missing person's reports. Sometimes the less you know the better you stay alive.

My mom and aunt had moved to Idaho just before I was born and I'd never found a reason to leave. Now I seriously questioned my logic for remaining in an area that the city didn't feel compelled to light up at night.

This was really creepy.

The moon wasn't full. Thank the Spirits for small favors. The crescent shape rode overhead like a half-lit lantern. Just imagine how much worse this would be if we had to worry about creatures that turned furry under a full moon?

At least
I
would worry. Morgan could fly.

What little light did shine down on our gruesome mission flickered with the clouds. My left foot found a gopher hole every time the clouds took charge.

"How much farther?" I tried to keep from panting. I don't think I succeeded. Matchmaking doesn't require a lot of physical exertion. And if I'm not required to work out . . .

I know, I know. High blood pressure and plaque do not care what species you are. It's on my list - the one at the back of my underwear drawer. Just another mark against me as a mortal.

"Just past those trees." Morgan used the prince's dead hand to indicate the direction.

She carried him over her shoulder, front side up due to the tree branch still firmly embedded in his chest. Morgan explained that we'd leave a pool of blood if we removed the tree branch. Nothing says "keep tree branch intact" like
pool of blood.

The leaves rustled softly with Morgan's stride.

"You said that five minutes ago." Even I could hear the whine in my words.

"Five minutes ago we were five minutes further away." Morgan lifted the prince's head to peer at me. "We could always go back and put him where you found him in the first place."

I sped up.

"You'd get a lot of publicity," she continued. Despite the body draped over her shoulder, I could not detect a hint of physical exertion from her. Of course, she's a vampire. Morgan could easily run a marathon, and win, while carrying the dead weight.

"Not all publicity is good publicity." This kind would certainly get me killed.

Did she
want
me to get into the serious decapitation-would-be-the-easy-way-out kind of trouble? She hadn't acted upset when she'd found out the
whose
behind my dead body dumping question.

Still, the prince had been a vamp and so was Morgan. At times, I found them very difficult to figure out.

I'm fairly confident that she felt the
best friend bond
between us and had no plans to drain me. On the other hand she's over a millennium in age. I've often wondered how she's lived for so long and stayed in touch with her feelings.

And it wasn't exactly the sort of thing one could bring up over a bottle of wine – wine for me, warm A negative for her – either. A "hey, are we really best friends or are you just waiting until I age a bit more to drink me?" would definitely put a strain on things.

It also isn't the sort of question I normally stew over, but right now . . . dark night, eerie woods, dead body.

Witches can be afraid of the dark too.

My fears had picked the lock on that inner, hidden door.

As a mortal witch I'm not really a part of either the human or the immortal non-human community. That creates a few issues for me. Which I usually handle with sarcasm - like my term humanly-challenged - or ignoring the matter all together.

I kept promising myself I'd figure out what exactly happened to those previous missing generations and the why's of our familial curse. I had a feeling there was something foul behind that curse. Somehow I always managed to push the exact date of that promise further and further out.

Dig a few holes and pretty soon you're going to discover a body.

I had this
really, really bad
feeling that I wouldn't have to dig deep and more than one body was involved.

Ostrich? You betcha.

I huffed and puffed along for several more yards. My foot found yet another hole.

Enough was enough.

I jerked my foot out of the hole and leaned on the shovel. "Exactly which trees are we aiming for here?"

The wall of trees loomed ahead. Another five or six feet, and we wouldn't have the luxury of the pale moonlight anymore. I swallowed. Hard.

Morgan's lips twitched. Clouds crossed overhead. I peered more closely at her, but she had assumed her blank expression.

Vamps can do blank better than anyone I've ever met. Aside from a zombie that I saw once, although, come to think of it, he really had been dead and . . . never mind.

"We have to bury him well inside the woods."

I stared nervously at those woods. Night held the entire area in a tight embrace. I couldn't see two feet in. Which meant there were lots and lots of places for creepy things to hide.

"Why do we have to bury him in there exactly?"

I needed the
exacts
for everything right then.

This time I knew for certain she smiled. Whatever. She was helping me bury a dead body. She could laugh all she wanted.

"Because if we bury him where the sunlight can reach him - even through shallow ground – he
will
eventually catch fire. Which will work its way to the surface. Which will, in turn, start a fire above ground. Which the fire department will investigate. Which will lead to the discovery of -"

"Okay. Okay." I sucked it up and started forward again.

I took two steps. "He'll start to burn
through
the ground?"

"Supernatural creature. Supernatural fire."

Typical, the HC always have to do things in a BIG way.

The shadows of night completely surrounded us. I slowed until I moved so cautiously a slumbering field mouse could have passed me.

Morgan took the lead. "Super senses. Remember Kate? I won't let anything jump out and get you."

I
had
forgotten. Funny what fear will do to a witch. Speeding up until I threatened to stomp on her heels with every step I took, I inhaled deeply. Several times.

"Laugh all you want." What was that sound? "I'm the mortal one here."

"No need to remind me. Your pulse is racing so fast I can practically taste your blood." She had the nerve to snap her fangs. Drat her. "I've totally forgotten what it's like to be afraid."

Was that a wistful note I heard? Right now, I couldn't imagine anything better than to have lost my sense of fear.

"Well, I happen to know precisely what creatures lurk in the dark." There went that sound again. "And none of them are good for my health."

"Point taken." She stopped abruptly. I crashed into her back.

I moved to the side where an enormous evergreen branch promptly scratched me. A step back removed me from its target zone, but didn't help in terms of observing the area.