Sucker for Love (8 page)

I spent a few minutes thinking about my own love life and the fact that Ty still hadn’t said the L word (and probably never would). Irrelevant, I told myself. I didn’t need it. I knew and that was good enough. Really.

After that, I followed up on last night’s matches and tried not to stake myself.

Sheesh. Didn’t anyone have a good time?

“I had a fabulous time,” Aurelia Sinclair told me.

“Really?”

“Of course. William is the perfect werewolf. He’s strong and virile and bald. Procreation is a given.”

“William?”

“The guy down in the lobby. The one in the uniform. He handled my car with perfection. The man definitely knows how to drive.”

“That wasn’t one of my guests. He was the valet.”

“Regardless, I’m forever in your debt.”

Okay, so it wasn’t a match made in DED heaven, but at this point, a satisfied customer was a satisfied customer. “Would you be willing to put that in writing? I’d love a testimonial for the website.”

I got a three-line spiel about how DED was the ultimate hookup service and decided to call it quits on a high note.

I transferred the phones and was just locking up when I felt the prickling on the back of my neck. It was the same creepy feeling I’d had on my way into work. A feeling that turned to full-blown panic when I felt the presence directly behind me.

I know, I know. Megalicious vampire and terror don’t exactly go together—unless, of course, I’m the one striking terror in the hearts of innocent villagers. But this
is
New York. You never know what’s going to creep out of an alley.

“I don’t have any money,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even. “And my credit cards are maxed.
And while the sex might be pretty great, I don’t even know you and so it’s not going to happen.”

“You’re going to die, bitch,” came the deadly promise.

And here I’d thought my night couldn’t get any worse.

“I
’m going to rip off your head and stuff it down your throat.” The deadly voice slid into my ears again and my anxiety eased.

“Nina?” I whirled and found myself facing the tall, svelte blonde who’d been my friend since birth. “Geez, you scared the crap out of me.”

“Really?” She shook her head. “I mean, yeah, good. You should be scared, because I’m serious. I’m going to tie you to the balcony and leave you to fry.”

I realized in a nanosecond that she meant business. Not because of her tone of voice, but because she was wearing sweats and flip-flops and zero makeup.

“I’m going to truss you up, dump you at the nearest church and let your skin fester until you’re nothing but an itchy, oozing mess and then I’m going to—”

“Would you stop with the vivid death threats already?” My gaze met hers. “What’s wrong? Why are you dressed like that?”

“I’m being inconspicuous. It’s Murder 101—never draw attention to yourself. You have to lay low. Fly under the radar. That way, no one will remember you later in a lineup.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re going down, Marchette.” She glared. “You ruined my afterlife.”

I remembered Mandy’s comment about Nina and the cocoa. “My mother coerced you into going to Mandy’s. That’s what this is about.”

“She coerced Rob and I tagged along. This is about next Friday and her Huntress Club meeting.”

“You didn’t agree to go, did you?”

“I didn’t have a choice. She said I was going to be a part of the family and so I had to meet her friends.” Her gaze narrowed and her eyes gleamed a bright, fierce red. “It’s all your fault for siccing her on me in the first place. She thinks Rob and I are serious.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yes. I mean, no.” She shook her head. “I have to break up with him.”

“Just because of my mother? Listen, it’s only one meeting. You go. You have some refreshments, talk about how great Rob is, and you’re home free.”

“But that’s the problem. Rob isn’t great. He has flaws. Major flaws.”

“You didn’t seem to have any concerns last night in the storage closet.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight. Now that I am, I see that he’s not the vampire for me. Sure, he’s got a phenomenal fertility rating. And abs you could pound nails on. And great hands. And he doesn’t mind it when I drink the last glass of O+ or misplace the remote or get makeup smudges on the lining of his coffin. Still, he’s far from perfect.”

I tried to process her words, but my brain stuck on one thing in particular. “Rob sleeps in a coffin?”

A grin played at her lips. “I wouldn’t exactly call it sleeping.”

“Forget I asked. Let’s get back to Rob. What’s wrong with him? Maybe we can fix it.”

I expected the usual spiel befitting a born male vampire—he’s narcissistic and selfish and conceited and money-hungry

“He’s too …” She made a face.
“Nice.”

“No problem. We’ll just try to get him to be more considerate and compassionate and—What did you just say?”

She shook her head. “He brings me flowers and he rubs my feet. He even sliced and diced this jerk who kept grabbing my ass when we went to that Nickelback concert last week.”

“And the problem is?” Other than murder one, of course.

“He’s nice,” she said again, “and I’m not. I mean,
come on, I’m so into myself it isn’t funny. I’m selfish and conceited and all I really care about is money and sex. I don’t deserve a vampire like Rob.”

“Trust me, you deserve him. He’s every bit as selfish as you are. He’s just not showing it. You’re in the honeymoon phase.”

“But what if we’re not? What if he’s really a great guy and I’m a bitch?” She shook her head. “He’ll get nicer and I’ll get bitchier and he’ll end up hating me. I can’t do that. Better to call it quits right now before we get any more involved. Then we can still be friends. And still have hot, meaningless sex once in a while.”

I had a feeling that Nina wasn’t half as scared of becoming more of a bitch as she was of changing. Mellowing. Falling in love.

I wasn’t going to say that, however. I knew my friend. She was in major denial and the more I pushed, the more likely she was to run the other way. “You’re right. You’re much too bitchy for my brother. You should break it off now.”

She gave me a strange look. “Really?”

I nodded vigorously. “You’re beyond bitchy. If there were a Bee-yotch category in the Olympics, you’d win the gold.”

“I’m not
that
bad.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re at the top of your game. A master.”

“Really?” Instead of looking hopeful, her eyes were bright. I ignored the urge to throw my arms
around her and tell her she was the sweetest, most considerate, most wonderful vampire in the world and any male would be lucky to have her.

“You should tell Rob off, pack your stuff, move out and cut all ties,” I said instead. Harsh, right? But a matchmaker’s gotta do what a matchmaker’s gotta do.

She blinked. “You think?”

“Straight up. Then you can go back to boffing bus-boys and concierge attendants and Rob can find a real vampire who wants to settle down. In fact,” I smiled, “I think I might have just the female for him. I signed her up just yesterday. Tall. Brunette—”

“Rob likes blondes,” she cut in, fingering a golden tendril that had come loose from her ponytail.

“Rob
liked
blondes. Once you break his heart, he’ll go on a mad rampage for brunettes. He’ll be dying to go out with my prospect—who, for the record, is also rich and great in bed.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little premature to try hooking him up? We haven’t even broken up yet.”

“That’s true. I mean, he’s so stuck on you, he’ll probably need time for reality to sink in before he’ll even consider another vampire.”

“Definitely.”

I glanced at my watch. “If I know my brother, he should be back in the saddle in about twenty-four hours. I’ll give him a call tomorrow night, provided you go through with it and break up with him tonight.”

“The sooner the better,” she said, but I could see the doubt in her eyes. She squared her shoulders and turned. “I’m getting this over with right now.” She sniffled.

I know, right?

“At the very latest, first thing in the morning,” she added as she signaled a cab and flip-flopped over.

“Atta girl,” I said as she climbed in.

I gave her a wave as the cab disappeared and said a little prayer that I hadn’t just pushed her into making the biggest mistake of her afterlife. With Esther missing and my business spiraling down the toilet, I had enough to worry about.

I spent the next few minutes trying to hail my own cab. When that failed, I disappeared into the alley near DED and closed my eyes. Soon, my heartbeat faded into the steady beat of wings and I flapped my way home.

A quick metamorphosis near the back trash can, and I walked around the front and let myself into the building. Minus a shoe, of course.

There was someone in my apartment.

I’d like to say it was my super-vamp abilities that tipped me off a few seconds later when I reached my floor. Truthfully, though, I was running a quart low. I’d had one measly glass of blood mixed in with the energy drinks. While plenty to start the evening, it wasn’t enough to keep me going past midnight.

No, I picked up on the B&E because my door stood partially open and a light shone inside.

I paused in the doorway and debated my options—run for help or bust in and kick some ass.

My gut leaned toward the first, but my inner fashionista kept me rooted to the spot. Everything I owned was in that apartment, including a brand-spanking-new pair of Dior sunglasses and a Marc Jacobs coin purse.

A wave of determination swept through me. I was a born
vampere.
Fearless. Ferocious. And fiercely overprotective of my wardrobe.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. My gaze scanned the small living room for anything out of the ordinary.

The antique coffee table I’d talked my mother into giving me?
Check.

My prized collection of
InStyle
stacked on top?
Check.

Traitorous cat sleeping on my favorite rug?
Check.

Hunky, blond Swede stretched bare-assed on my sofa?
Check, check.

I blinked, but he didn’t disappear. Still hunky.
Blink, blink.
Still blond.
Blink, blink, blink.
Still naked—

“Vonderful.” Hans’ thick accent echoed in my ears and distracted me from the impressive package parked against my favorite throw pillow.

My gaze ping-ponged back to his face and his
bright blue eyes. My mom had picked up Hans during a holiday in Sweden. Basically, she’d fallen for his magical hands and he’d fallen for her bank account, and so they’d been a perfect match. He’d gladly given up a poor existence as a shoe cobbler in exchange for a small fortune, food, unlimited spray tan appointments and a personal trainer. He’d also given up his free will and succumbed to my mother’s vamp mojo. He now lived in a state of perpetual glam, his own personality whittled away to reflect the man at his most basic form.

In other words, his thoughts read like a testimonial to Swiss Colony.

His name was Hans and he liked cheese. He preferred the smoked cheddar, but on occasion he went a little crazy and indulged in a nut-covered Gouda or a little creamy Havarti. And he went total apeshit over the chive and cream cheese crock spread.

He smiled. “I’ve been vaiting for you.” He pushed to his feet and motioned toward my bedroom.

I glanced at the open doorway. Candles blazed and a pile of pillows waited on the bed.

“I have everyzing ready,” he added.

“Ready for what?”

“Massage. We must do massage.” Because that’s what Hans did. He ate cheese and gave massages, and since I was fresh out of a party tray, he was going for the next best thing.

Another glance at the candles and pillows and my muscles screamed for relief.

“Come.” He motioned me into the bedroom, his Johnson bobbing with enthusiasm.

While I have nothing against a naked man stoked at the prospect of putting his hands on me, it just didn’t seem right, considering Ty had been here only hours ago. And he’d been naked. And, well, I much preferred him naked to anyone else. That, and my mother would shit a brick if she knew Hans was here.

In case you haven’t tuned in, my mother is a tad on the selfish side. And domineering. And since I refused to cooperate and do the Moe’s thing, she’d cut me off from any and all amenities—no housekeeping, no massage, no free dry cleaning. I was totally and completely on my own.

Which was exactly the way I liked it. Most of the time. But after worrying all day, I was kinda sorta feeling sorry for myself and, well, he was already here.

I headed for the bedroom. “Would you mind wrapping a towel around your waist?” I asked as I slipped into the bathroom, ditched my clothes and donned a robe.

“I give best massage when I can move freely.”

“I get best massage when I’m not distracted,” I said as I opened the door. I tossed him an extra large bath sheet. “There’s a cheese wheel in it for you if you cooperate.”

His eyes glittered. “Cheddar?”