Sucker for Love (6 page)

Ash paced the floor in front of my desk, his mouth stretched into a thin line, his brow furrowed.

“Something’s wrong,” he said.

What’d I tell ya?

My stomach hollowed out despite the three Rock-stars and extra-large glass of O+ I’d chugged before leaving my apartment. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“I’m afraid it’s worse than that.”

“What could be worse than dead?”

“Torture. Then death.”

Yep, that would be worse.

“We did a background check on your guy,” he went on, “and it turns out that his name isn’t Justin. It’s Mordred Lucius.”

“Why does that sound familiar?”

“Mordred was the evil knight who fatally wounded King Arthur. This isn’t any relation. At least, none that I can put my finger on. He isn’t a demon either. He’s a very powerful warlock.”

“A male version of Glenda the Good Witch?”

“Only if Glenda traded in her Lollipop Guild membership and joined a satanic cult.” Ash shook his head. “This guy is into black magic. I did some checking once I found out his name and it seems he can be traced back at least eight hundred years.”

“He didn’t look a day over twenty-five.”

“That’s the point. It turns out he was ousted from his coven for performing illegal rituals. I talked to the vice-president of the local AWW, who told me—”

“AWW?”

“Association of Witches and Warlocks. This Mordred was convicted of plotting to perform a human sacrifice to preserve his own youth. The AWW outlawed the ancient Mayan ritual over one hundred and fifty years ago when they decided to mainstream with the rest of society. They didn’t want any of their members causing bad PR and so they banished him. Obviously mutilating and killing humans is much too high profile for their tastes.”

“But Esther isn’t human.”

“Technically, no. But she’s still a vital entity. One with enormous power and energy. If he kills her, he not only absorbs her youth, he soaks up her immortality, as well.”

“Meaning?”

“She’ll be the ultimate sacrifice”—his words were low and serious and my stomach flipped—“because she’ll be his last.”

“If he wants eternal youth, why not just find a born vampire to turn him?”

“Vampires have limitations.”

Tell me about it.

“No sunlight,” Ash went on. “No pigging out at Shoney’s.” Ash shook his head. “This guy is greedy. He wants the best of both worlds.”

“And Esther is his ticket.”

Ash nodded. “We went by his place. He punched in his security code a half hour after you called me
last night. It looks as if he left the hotel and stopped by his apartment to pack up a few things.”

“He’s going somewhere.”

Ash nodded. “The ritual requires that he make the sacrifice on his birthday which, according to my sources, isn’t until next Friday.”

My curiosity piqued and my mind started to race. While I knew Ash was a badass demon, I’d yet to realize the extent of his powers. I knew he could read minds because he was forever dipping into mine and I couldn’t help but wonder what other tricks he had up his sleeve. “Scrying cup? Tarot cards? Magic 8 Ball?”

“Driver’s license.” He didn’t miss my disappointment because he added, “I only use the Magic 8 Ball for special occasions.”

“Very funny.” I swallowed the sudden lump that had jumped into my throat. “So why kidnap her early?”

“Nabbing her in advance gives him time to prepare the sacrifice. He’ll start by starving her first to cleanse her system and then he’ll slice and dice slowly. A little skin here. A little skin there. She won’t be able to heal if she isn’t eating, which means she’ll suffer appropriately—”

“I really don’t want to hear this.”

He gave me a strange look.

“Not that I can’t take the blood and gore,” I blurted. “I love blood and gore. It’s just that I don’t
want to hear about what
might
happen. I’d rather live in the moment, and at the moment she’s alive.” At his pointed stare, I added, “Right?”

He nodded. “That’s the assumption we’re going on.”

“Which means we have time to find her if we can figure out where he took her. Can we figure out where he took her?”

“The ritual requires that the sacrifice be made at a place of supreme power.”

“Like an ancient burial ground?”

“No, this is more personalized. It has to be at a place of supreme power for the individual warlock. A place where
Mordred
has been. A place where he felt extremely powerful. Unfortunately, we don’t know where that is at this time, but we’re running a check on all outgoing flights at JFK and La-Guardia.”

“Do you really think he checked a trussed-up vampire with baggage claim? Or worse, used her as a carry-on?”

Ash shrugged. “We’re also contacting the local charter companies, train stations, local cabbies and rental car companies.”

“Crawling into a cab with an unconscious vampire in tow? Wouldn’t that be much too conspicuous?”

“For most. But he’s a powerful warlock. He could easily work a spell to make her invisible or glamour any eyewitnesses.”

“So why even bother asking around? He’ll make sure no one remembers anything.”

“Probably. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last two thousand years, it’s that everyone slips up once in a while. Witch, warlock, vampire, werewolf, demon—they all make mistakes. Not often, but it only takes one time. A chink in the armor, so to speak. What?” he added when I just stared at him as if he’d hauled his pants up to his armpits.

“You’re two thousand years old?”

“Give or take a few hundred.” Before I could ask any more questions, his cell phone rang. He took one look at the display and said, “It’s Zee. I really have to go.”

“Is it about Esther?”

He shook his head and pressed a few buttons before sliding the phone back into his pocket. “Another case I’m working on. Listen, I’ve been checking into this because you asked me to, but I have to bow out now. It involves sorcery and magic, which puts it out of my jurisdiction.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a white business card and handed it to me. “This is the name of the investigator who’ll be heading up things. If you can think of anything else about last night, anything you might have forgotten, just give him a call.”

“Merle N. Ambrose?” The name echoed through my head and the pieces started to click. “Merlin?
The
Merlin?”

He grinned. “He’s a good guy. We go way back.”

“How far?”

“First cousins.”

My brain rifled through all the history lessons I’d endured at the hands of a strict tutor named Jacques. “But I thought Merlin was the son of the Devil?”

“Nephew,” he replied as he reached for the door.

Which meant that Ash was a chip off the old Big D block.

“Later.” He gave me a quick wink and disappeared before I could voice the thought out loud.

Merlin.

Mordred.

The Devil.

Esther.

Mayan sacrifice.

The info whirled in my brain and I had the sudden urge to heave. I was a sucker for happily-ever-afters, not death and destruction. Even more, I was nursing some major guilt for introducing Esther to this guy in the first place.

I drew a deep breath on the off chance that it might ease my panic and tried to calm the frantic beat of my heart.

Think positive.

Yes, the situation looked grim, but that didn’t mean things couldn’t turn out. There were a whole ten days before next Friday. Plenty of time for the good guys to find some valuable clues, pinpoint Esther’s whereabouts and save the day. She was alive
at this moment. Maybe, possibly, in severe pain, but still alive.

I held tight to the hope, tamped down on the sudden anxiety that churned in my stomach and focused on the four messages sitting on my desk.

Message number one? A born vampire by the name of Clarice Harlow Montgomery who was desperately searching for that perfect someone. Namely another born vampire with at least a ten fertility rating (she needed off the charts to balance out her less than impressive orgasm quotient which measured a measly three, which explained why she needed me in the first place). She’d attended last night’s ball with high hopes of finding Count Right. Instead, she’d gotten drunk and ended up in bed with The Wolf-man. She was now revolted and blaming yours truly because she’d gone from being a sophisticated, happening
vampere
to a lowly were ho (her words not mine).

O-kay.

Message number two came from Yolanda Jackson, a fashionable were panther and head of security for Barneys New York. “I slept with a demon and my mother’s going to kill me.”

I definitely shared her pain.

My gaze went to the third slip of paper and my stomach jumped. It was from another client, who’d left a cryptic
I want my money back now!

Number four? Ditto on the refund.

I punched the intercom for Evie. “Did we have any positive phone calls about last night?”

“The band called to thank you for the tip.”

“Any calls from clients?”

“No, but Word hit it off with a receptionist from Stern and Finley Investments. He told me all about it when I dropped off my camera so he could download the pics.” Word was the cousin/sexual deviant who’d given us a rock-bottom price on the new ad brochure.

“We don’t have anyone from Stern and Finley in our database.”

“He met her at a club last week, asked her out and,
bam,
instant chemistry. Can you believe it? We hooked him up with fourteen girls and not one of them would go out with him again. His first time flying solo and,
bam,
he hits a home run.”

“You’re not making me feel better.”

“Look on the bright side. At least you know that love is still alive and well in the Big Apple. That, and your outfit is totally fab.”

Normally such a comment would have safely distracted me from my misery for at least a nanosecond (we’re talking black Zac Posen mini-skirt, ivory shell and Oscar de la Renta pink python heels). Instead, my gut clenched and the backs of my eyes burned.

What can I say? I’m growing.

“And I love that eye shadow. What is that? MAC’s glitter sunrise?”

I smiled. “Sephora.” I haven’t grown
that
much.

I disconnected from Evie and powered up my computer. I was just pulling up last night’s guest list to cruise for possible matches when the phone rang. A few seconds later, Evie buzzed me.

“Don’t tell me. It’s Janice Tarrington calling to thank me for introducing her to Michael Brandenberg.” Both were born vampires. High fertility rating for him. Impressive orgasm quotient for her. Both had a fondness for opera and the Mets. They’d danced all night and I’d even seen Michael licking Janice’s neck during a soulful rendition of Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On.”

Sure, they’d left in separate cabs after he’d tried to bite her and she’d told him to put his commitment vial where his mouth was, but what’s love without a little tiff every now and then? Even one that involved bitch-slapping (boy, can Janice pack a punch) and crying (who knew a male vamp could wail in three different octaves?).

“It’s your sister-in-law.”

So much for optimism.

“She sounds worked up,” Evie added.

“Thanks.” I punched line one. “Mandy? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’m ecstatic. Jack and I are going to have a baby and it’s all because of your wonderful, supportive mother.”

The words stumbled around in my brain for a split second. “Come again?”

“Your mother is the greatest.”

“
My
mother?”

“The sweetest.”

“Jaqueline Marchette?”

“The kindest.”

“The
Jaqueline Marchette, who lives in Fairfield, Connecticut?”

“The most compassionate.”

“The one who takes up two parking spaces? And butts her nose into everyone’s business? And gives away boxes of raisins at Halloween?”

“Raisins are healthy.”

“Exactly.” My mother was always thinking in selfish terms. Load up the kids with raisins. They grow to be healthy adults and a perfect food source should the blood bottlers go out of business. “Halloween is all about Hershey bars and Pixie Stix. Any self-respecting human knows that.”

“All right, so she might need a little redirection when it comes to trick-or-treaters, but otherwise she’s the most wonderful female vampire in the entire universe.” Mandy drew an excited breath. “She’s promised to do everything in her power to help us have a baby.”

“That’s too cool.” Or it would have been if we weren’t having a give and take that starred
my
mother. “I’m glad it all worked out.” I licked my lips and chose my next words carefully. “But I was sort of under the impression that she was a little concerned about the whole situation. Not because she doesn’t absolutely love you or because she thinks you guys
never should have tied the knot, or anything crazy like that.” I went for a laugh. “It’s just that it’s sort of an unusual situation and not very common. I mean, you are human.”

“That’s exactly what your mother said. But when I explained that I’ve been doing research and there’s no reason that Jack and I can’t have a normal, healthy human baby, she was fine with it.”

“She was?”

I could practically hear Mandy nodding on the other end. “Thrilled, even. She and your dad even insisted on toasting us. They brought a bottle of champagne just for the occa—”

“Do
not
drink the champagne!”

“I wouldn’t drink champagne, silly.”

Relief rolled through me. Short-lived when she added, “I drank hot chocolate. Your mother brought it especially for me. She wouldn’t let Nina have even a sip.”

“Nina and Rob were there?”

“They didn’t want to miss the happy occasion. Anyhow, Nina asked for hot chocolate, but your mother insisted it was something special just for me. Said it was her own secret recipe.”

This news sparked a big
uh-oh
for two very important reasons: 1) my mother didn’t have any special recipes, on account of she never cooked or whipped up stuff or did anything remotely domestic, and 2) she was a pretentious lunatic vampire who would sooner flay herself than do anything nice for a human.