Sucker for Love (18 page)

And I thought my name sucked rocks?

“You have connections in those places?”

I gave him a get-real smile. “Do I have connections?”

“Do you?” He gave me a pointed stare.

“My database is loaded with hot prospects,” I assured him, despite the fact that I wasn’t one hundred percent sure I was going to take him on in the first place.

Backup
soul mates? It was just so … cold and callous and
un
romantic. It went against the happily-ever-after, one-male-and-one-female, till
-never
-do-us-part foundation that supported my steadfast belief in true love.

Then again,
five
meant five times the usual retainer fee, which meant a year’s supply of MAC’s new Forever Sunrise bronzer and the ability to make good on my money-back guarantee with the handful of clients I’d failed.

“I’m willing to pay extra for your trouble.” He pulled out a black leather-bound checkbook and a pen.

I’ll do it.

That’s what I wanted to say. But I kept thinking about poor Luella and the pitchfork and how if I’d been her, I’d have wanted DeWalt to mourn more than just the fact that I knew my way around a barn. Where was the devotion? The loyalty? The
love?

The push/pull went on for a few minutes as my closet romantic tried to kick practicality’s ass. The battle ended when DeWalt’s gaze met mine.

“I need children,” he finally said. “I’m my father’s only son. You see, I’m not the only one of the Carrigans with slow swimmers. I’ve got one sister, but she’s much younger. She isn’t going to commit to anyone for a very long time, and even when she does, there’s no guarantee that she’ll reproduce. Her orgasm quotient is about as impressive as my fertility rating.

Ouch.

“I’m really the only hope of continuing our line,” he added. “I
have
to reproduce.”

“I feel your pain, buddy.” Boy, did I ever.

I thought of my own mother and the constant fix-ups. The guilt. The nagging. The disappointment.

My heart clenched and I knew right then that I was going to help him. However unromantic and difficult.

“It’s going to be expensive. We’re talking five times the usual retainer, plus ten percent for expenses and travel.” I gave him the amount and waited for the freak-out. Male BV=tightwad from hell.

DeWalt didn’t so much as flinch as he wrote the check and handed it to me.

I stuffed the check into my purse, walked over to my briefcase and pulled out a pen and paper. “I’ll need as many details about you as possible. Your likes and dislikes. Your background. Your hopes and dreams. The more I know about you, the better. You can start with your name. Address. Bank balance.”

After I finished up DeWalt’s profile, I gave him a smile and a reassuring “Five commitment mates coming right up,” and sent him on his way. Then I pulled out my laptop and did a database search for every available female I had listed. A whopping three scrolled across my screen.

Numero uno?

Jonelle Dubois.

A zing of excitement went through me as I picked up the phone. After sitting through two dates with Evie’s uncle Harrington for lack of a better match, Jonelle would jump at the chance to meet a born vamp male. This was going to be too easy.

“Hi, Jonelle. It’s Lil. Lil Marchette. The dress rehearsal’s over. Time for the main event.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve got the perfect vampire for you. Wealthy. Handsome. His fertility rating isn’t off the charts, but you weren’t interested in having more children. Although, you haven’t ruled it out either,” I added. “In fact, a vampire of your breeding owes it to herself to have as many children as she possibly can. It’s your duty. Your right.”

“But I sort of like Harrington.”

Come again?

“I know it was just supposed to be a dress rehearsal, but he’s really kind of sweet. He reminds me of my very first blood slave, John Charles. He’s nice and he listens when I talk. That’s what I’ve really been missing for the last six hundred years since Pierre got staked by that Italian SOB when we were on holiday in Florence. The company. See, I’ve realized that I don’t really need a mate. It’s the companionship I need, and Harrington is more than sufficient for that.”

“But he’s old. He won’t last that long.”

“Then I’ll find another one. Blood slaves are much easier to come by than eternity mates.”

“He’s broke,” I pointed out, playing every BV card I could think of. “With the exception of a teeny tiny pension, he has nothing.”

“I have plenty of my own money.”

“He’s impotent.”

“What did you say the vampire’s name was?”

I gave her DeWalt’s stats and set up a meeting for the following evening. She would fly down on her private jet, they would have midnight martinis and she’d be back in Connecticut before sunrise.

That was easy enough.

I was just giving myself a mental high five when my cell rang. Nina’s number blazed across the display.

“Hey,” I said.

“We need to talk.”

“I’ve got plenty of time right now.”

“Not on the phone. I …” Her voice faded as she seemed to catch herself. “I really think I need to say this in person.”

“That important?”

“The
most important thing ever.”

I knew it.

“You and Rob are back together and you’re eternally grateful and you want to tell me how fabulous I am. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“I’d rather not say anything right now. Where are you? Evie said something about Arizona, but she didn’t know the name of the hotel.”

“I’m staying at The Grande.”

“In Phoenix?”

“Give or take a thousand miles.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Keep your mouth shut. That’s what I told myself. But then she added, “Lil? Come on. I need you. This is huge.”

“I’m in Texas,” I heard myself say. “But you can’t tell anyone. Not my mother. Or Ty. Or Ash. Or some old guy dressed like Santa Claus.
Especially
not an old guy dressed like Santa Claus.”

“What the hell is going on? Never mind,” she said when I started to give her the condensed version. “You can tell me later. My afterlife is complicated enough right now. Give me the address and I’ll be there tomorrow night.”

“I mean it,” I reminded her after I’d given her the info. “You have to keep this to yourself.”

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hit
OFF
and did a mental end zone dance because my luck was finally changing. I’d already found the first prospect for DeWalt, which meant I was one step closer to earning the whopping retainer he’d given me. Nina and Rob were getting back together; i.e., he was
so
outta my apartment.

And Esther?

All right, so I wasn’t going to run off on a Vegas vacation just yet. Still, things were starting to work out.

I held tight to hope and shifted my attention to
born vamp prospect number two—a female who’d listed a high fertility rating and a massive bank account as her only must-haves.

Dialing her number, I crossed my fingers and sent up a silent
Pu-leazzzz
that she’d settle for one out of two.

O
ne minute I was propped up in bed, sipping a cup of blood and surfing my database—just in case I’d missed a viable born female for DeWalt—and the next, I was standing on a picturesque powdery white beach.

It was the ultimate getaway video in the making. The sun shimmered in the pale blue sky. A soft breeze blew in off the water. Palm trees swayed. Somewhere in the far distance, Barry Manilow sang “Copacabana.”

Dreams. Go figure.

A yummy tingle swept through me and my knees trembled. I knew even before I heard Ty’s deep, mesmerizing voice that he stood directly behind me.

“I’ve missed you.”

And?

That’s what I wanted to say, but since we were smack dab in the middle of a fantasy I decided not to pick a fight. This was about distracting myself and destressing and getting completely and totally naked.

Barry sang louder and Ty stared down at me and, well, I couldn’t help but move my hips just a little this way and then a little that way. My hands went to the back of my neck and worked the tie on my hot pink snakeskin bikini. The straps loosened, the conch-shell clasp followed, and pretty soon I twirled and tossed it with the finesse of a highly paid hoochie.

His neon blue eyes gleamed. “You’re so beautiful.”

And?

I shook away the question and concentrated on the heat skimming my skin. My nipples throbbed and the inside of my thighs trembled.

Ty’s gaze darkened and smoldered as his eyes caressed my body and noted every sensual reaction. He wanted to touch me, but he didn’t.

Not yet.

I reached for the side ties of my bikini bottom.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured, his voice raw and raspy. “Give it to me.”

Help!

Wait a sec. Where was my
And …?

The thought struck and I realized that the plea hadn’t come from my own insecurity.

“Lil!”

Esther’s frantic voice drew me around in time to see her standing several feet away. She was naked,
her body bruised and cut. Blood sizzled down her pale skin and pooled at her feet. The red spread wider, eating up the white sand and turning it into murky crimson muck.

I yelled for Ty, but he stood motionless. He wouldn’t help. He couldn’t.

Not any more than Ash or his brothers or Merlin. They wanted Esther dead so that they could fry Mordred.

I stepped toward her and she started to sink. Deeper. Faster.
No!
I lunged for her, but the sand seemed to suck at me, making my progress slow and tedious. Anxiety bolted through me, followed by a rush of dread as her head disappeared. I moved faster, struggling, praying. I reached her just as her elbow dipped below the surface.

Her fingers strained, grasping for me. I grabbed her, holding on as tight as I could, but it wasn’t enough. The red muck yanked at her, pulling her from my grasp. Just like that, she disappeared. Gone.

Dead.

No!

My eyes snapped open to find the laptop next to me on the bed, forgotten, and the empty coffee cup discarded on the floor. The digital clock on the night-stand read ten
A.M.
A thin strip of burnt orange outlined the blinds.

A nightmare.

That’s all it had been. Just a crazy figment of my very stressed, very active imagination.

Air churned from the window unit, blowing across my skin, and I glanced down.

My bare nipples stood at attention, while my blouse lay in a heap next to me. Along with my bra.

Okay, so most of it had been my crazy, stressed imagination.

I forced my legs to move and pushed from the bed. Peeling off my pants, I reached for my suitcase and unearthed an oversized black T-shirt that read
Cowboy Up.
I slid the cotton over my head and Ty’s rich scent enveloped me.

A pang of longing rushed from my head to my toes, fading quickly in the fatigue that gripped every inch of my body. My limbs felt sluggish and my muscles ached.

FYI—vampires don’t
have
to sleep during the day. We could stay awake if we wanted to, but our body usually rebelled. It needed the deep, rejuvenating sleep of the undead as much as it needed fresh blood.

Otherwise …

The word
cranky
didn’t even touch it.

I killed the light, crawled back into bed and buried my head beneath the pillow to escape the noise outside. The
clip-clop
of horse hoofs. The steady
mooooo
of the calves. The clang of tools as Elmer tried to fix the ice machine.

Sleep swallowed me again, sucking me down the way the sand had sucked at Esther.

Her frantic
Help!
followed me and I knew deep
down inside that the striptease hadn’t been the only part of the nightmare that had been real.

She was dying.

I knew it. I felt it. And despite several centuries of cultivated optimism, I was starting to think that maybe—just maybe—I might not reach her in time.

Barry was singing again.

I covered my ears and tried to drown out the constant drumming. The rocking voice. The cool mix of synthesizers and—

Wait a sec. Forget Barry.

I fought my way through the blackness until recognition dawned and I realized it was Katy Perry. She wailed about hot and cold and yes and no and in and out and—sheesh.

Now, I like Katy as much as the next ultra-trendy, five-hundred-and-holding-year-old vampire, but I was trying to friggin’ sleep here.

“… up then you’re down …”

I groped for the noise. My hand closed over my cell and I forced my eyes open long enough to kill the sound. My gaze snagged on the caller ID. Guilt spiraled through me and my finger paused on the
OFF
button. A split second of indecision (and a few
He loves me/He loves me nots) and
I pressed
TALK.

“Yeah?” I mumbled.

“Rise and shine,” Ty’s deep voice echoed in my ear, and my hormones gave a squeal of excitement.