“Stop being such a bébé,” she snapped and tugged him even faster.
Inside, he collapsed on the sofa in the living room and leaned his head back against the cushions. His left eye was black and swollen and he looked as if he’d just tangled with a pack of werewolves rather than his own maman.
My mother shrugged and walked over to the bar to pour him a glass of blood. “It’s a hunt, dear. One must do what is necessary to capture one’s prey.”
“You kicked me, too.” He touched his thigh and his face went visibly pale.
“Only once.” She handed him the glass and studied him for a nanosecond. “You’re fine.”
“I hurt like hell and it wasn’t just once. It was two and a half times.”
“How do you kick someone a half time?” Max asked.
“She tried to kick, but I ducked and rolled and so she barely grazed me,” Rob explained.
“That was ducking and rolling? It looked more like crying and begging to me.” My mother shrugged. “I had to subdue you and prevent you from running.”
“The chase is half the fun.” My father sank into an armchair, a glass of his favorite AB-negative in his hand and a sullen look on his face. “But you killed that, Jacqueline. As usual.”
“Oh, hush. I’ve let you have your fun for two centuries. On top of that, I say nothing when you and Viola go at it every other week when it’s time to trim those blasted hedges.”
“Those are my hedges and I can trim them when and if I damn well feel like it. Of course, I won’t have to once the weed killer really sets in.”
I opened my mouth to tell him about Viola and the pee fest, but then thought better of it. I mean, really, who was I to interrupt when they were so totally engrossed in a conversation with each other? No need to distract them.
“The man at the nursery said it should take a few weeks and then bam, no more azalea bushes.” His mouth crooked in a devilish smile.
“See?” my mother told him. “You’re having fun. You always have fun. The least you can do is lose gracefully this one time.”
My father’s expression faded back to sullen. “I did not lose. You can’t lose if you don’t get the chance to even try. I would have beat you hands down if you hadn’t broken the rule about no contact in the first ten minutes.”
“Since when is there a rule about no contact in the first ten minutes?”
Since my father had made it up.
“There’s always been a ten minute rule,” Dad went on. “Why do you think the hunt always takes so long?”
“Because our children have become victims of modern civilization and we aren’t as fast as we used to be.”
“For your information, I’m as fast and as vicious as I ever was.” He bared his fangs and flashed my mother a See this? look. “My guard was down tonight because I didn’t expect you to break the rules. If I had known, I would have put my best foot forward a hell of a lot sooner, I’ll tell you that much. A hell of a lot sooner.”
“Certainly, dear.” My mom retreated into her usual appeasing self—when it came to my father, that is. I guess after six hundred years of commitment, it’s easier to just go with the flow sometimes. “It’s my fault. It won’t happen again.”
“I thought you were spectacular,” Mandy chimed in. “You won one for us girls.” She waved a hand in the air. “Way to go, Jackie!”
While Jacqueline Marchette considered herself many things—devoted mother, supportive wife, heartless bitch (at least when it came to fighting for a parking space at the monthly meeting of the Connecticut Huntress Club)—a “girl” wasn’t one of them. And no one ever—ever—called her Jackie. Her gaze grew dangerously dark.
“Why, thank you, dear,” she said with tight lips. “What an interesting way to phrase something.” She shoved a drink in my hand and turned to fill another glass. Her knuckles were white on the bottle and I waited for the explosion of crimson.
Surprisingly, she managed to hold her temper and play the proper hostess. She passed out glass after glass as quickly as possible—blood for us vamps and a watermelon martini for Mandy.
We’d just settled onto the sofa to enjoy our refreshments when my mother plucked the glass out of my hand.
“But I wasn’t—” I started, but she cut me off.
“Would you look at the time?” She reached for the next glass…Pluck. “We’d better wrap this up.” Pluck. Pluck. “I have a huntress club meeting in less than fifteen minutes.”
“But you met last week,” Rob protested, staring longingly after the drink she carted away from him.
“We’re meeting again this week.” She set the glasses down and recorked the bottle.
“But you only meet once a month.” Rob wasn’t giving up. I didn’t blame him. I could feel the pain radiating from him. He needed sustenance.
“It’s an emergency,” she told him.
“It’s a social club.”
“It’s a social emergency.” She cut him a glare. “Marge Ellen Weisenbocker’s daughter is getting engaged. To a werewolf. Marge is beside herself.” She stared pointedly at Jack, who gazed adoringly at Mandy. “She knows that a mixed commitment can never work.”
“I wouldn’t say never.” Did I just say that? “Francis and Melissa are making things work.” Oh, no, that was me. I clamped my lips shut. I was not saying another word. My mother had already shifted her full attention from Jack to yours truly. “It’s not easy, but it is possible. He hasn’t bitten and made her yet, but they’ve already decided they’re perfect for each other. I’m sure the rest is inevitable.”
“Time to go,” she ground out. “Now.” Her gaze lingered on me. “I’ll speak with you later, Lilliana.”
Black, here I come.
She herded everyone toward the front door. Just as Jack was about to escort Mandy out onto the front step, my mother clamped a hand around his arm. “Dear, I need you to drive me over.”
“I’ll drive you over,” my father said, coming up be hind her.
“I need Jack.” She tugged my brother away from Mandy. “He can drive me in the Hummer. He loves the Hummer,” she told Mandy. “Don’t you, dear?”
“I guess—”
“Jacqueline,” my father cut off Jack’s response, “I may not be as young as I used to be, but I’m perfectly capable of driving you over to your meeting in a timely manner.”
“I’m sure you are, dear,” her gaze drilled into Dad, “but I would really like Jack to drive me. I never get the chance to spend any time with him. We need to talk more. To connect.”
The moment my mother said the last word, under standing lit my father’s expression. FYI—in addition to never winning, my mother never used the word connect. Not when it came to emotional stuff.
“Oh, right.” Dad did his best imitation of a fanged bobblehead. “Jack should drive you.” He clapped my brother on the back. “He handles the Hummer like a real champ. Don’t you, son?”
“Well, I—”
“Your friend,” my mother cut in, referring to a startled Mandy, “can catch a ride back to the city with Lil.”
I opened my mouth to point out the fact that I was wanted for a felony.
Playing escort to my brother’s latest squeeze and making myself even more visible by crawling into the back of a cab might not be the smartest thing to do.
I snapped it back shut. Hey, why ruin a good thing?
“I’ve already called,” my mother added. “There’s a car waiting.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I grabbed Mandy’s arm, hauled her outside and down the front walk. “Later.”
“They like me,” Mandy declared once we’d climbed into the cab and given the driver our destination. “They really like me.”
“How many watermelon martinis did you have?”
“Just one. Well, a quarter of one. Your mother sort of rushed us out of there. Not that I don’t understand. I totally do. She’s a busy woman and extremely conscientious.” She smiled. “That’s two for me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Two things we have in common. Being conscientious and reliable. I’m both.” She smiled. “We’re going to be like two peas in a pod.”
Maybe an alien pod.
“I can’t believe I was so worried,” she went on. “Jack and I both were, but I think everything went really well. I mean, except for your brother getting hit and kicked. But otherwise, I think it was probably typical of your usual family get-together.”
Okay. I don’t like to be the bearer of bad news, but I felt it my responsibility to clue this girl in on what she was up against. I mean, I would want to know if the love of my life’s mother completely and totally hated my guts.
“Mandy.”
“To think I actually bit off an entire manicure worrying over this meeting.”
“Mandy.”
“And I ate an entire box of Oreo cookies.”
“Code blue!”
She snapped to attention. Her gaze collided with mine. “What? What is it?” Worry flashed in her eyes and my chest hitched. “What’s wrong?”
“I…That’s a really cool shade of lipstick.” I know, I know. I shouldn’t be perpetuating the lie. But she would find out the truth soon enough, particularly when my parents showed up for tea tomorrow. If they showed up. In the meantime, what was wrong with a little hope? “So what is it? Sephora’s Natural Wonder? MAC’s Earth Works?”
“Mandy’s Natural Lip Color.”
Oh.
She smiled. “I don’t wear much makeup. I don’t usually have time for it.” She glanced at her watch. “I took tomorrow off for the tea. It’s my first day off in four years. Jack suggested I just take a half day, but I want us to have plenty of time to celebrate once the parents meet and we tell them that we’re getting married.”
“WHAT?”
Her face lit up. “I wasn’t supposed to spill the news, but I’m so excited I just can’t help myself. I have to tell someone.” Her gaze collided with mine and I saw Jack poised on one knee, an engagement ring the size of a third world country in his right hand.
“Engaged? No way!” She nodded and I couldn’t help my own smile even though I knew this was the worst possible thing that could happen as far as my mother was concerned.
Then again.
My smile widened.
“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she rushed on, as she rummaged in her purse and pulled out the Third World country. She slid the ring onto her finger and held up her hand. “You won’t tell him I told you, will you? We agreed to tell our parents first. Together.” She clasped her hand to her chest and gave me a pleading look.
“My lips are sealed.”
Not to mention that Jack and I haven’t had an actual conversation since…I don’t think we’d ever had an actual conversation. Name-calling, yes. But nothing that qualified as an actual exchange of relevant information.
“I can’t wait for tomorrow.” She fanned her fingers and the ring glittered in the darkness. “It’s going to be the most thrilling day of my life. I mean, other than the day I got engaged. And the day Jack rolled into the morgue. And last Thursday when he and I rented this suite at the Waldorf. We took a champagne bath together and rolled around on a bed full of rose petals and read poetry to each other.”
“That’s, um, sweet.” In a gross way. The guy was my brother.
“My parents are going to be ecstatic,” she rushed on. “And I’m sure your parents will be thrilled, too. Who wouldn’t want their five-hundred-and-thirty-five-year-old son to finally settle down?”
When I started to open my mouth, she held up a hand. “I know I’m not a born vampire and I’m not exactly French, but I’m a nice girl. I’m from a good family. An old family. We’ve been around forever, so it’s kind of like we’re immortal. We’ve played crucial roles in several key events in history and have even been mentioned in several history books.”
“You don’t say?”
She nodded. “My great, great, great, great grandfather came over on the Mayflower and my great, great, great, great uncle Radcliffe rode with Paul Revere, and my great, great, great aunt Millicent was burned at the stake during the Salem witch trials and—”
“Whoa, back it up. What did you just say?”
“My family can be traced all the way back to the Mayflower.” She radiated pride.
“Not that part. The other part.”
“Uncle Radcliffe?”
“Fast forward.”
“Aunt Millicent?”
“Bingo.”
“I was saving that surprise for tomorrow.” Her smile widened and a sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. “It turns out I’m not so human after all. They say my aunt Millicent was one of the most powerful witches of her time and since I’m her direct descendant, that means I have Other DNA flowing through my veins. Not that I know how to cast a spell or anything like that. The closest I’ve ever come is watching reruns of Charmed. But still, it’s something, right?” She beamed. “I can’t wait to tell your folks. They’re going to flip!”
“They’re going to flip, all right.” I had the sudden vision of my mother, fangs bared, going for Mandy’s silken white throat, and panic rushed through me.
Not your business, a voice whispered.
The same voice that said better you than me when it came to my mother’s wrath.
Still. We’re talking fangs, and just because of a little DNA glitch.
“You know, Mandy, you might want to keep that little piece of information to yourself. You’re a terrific girl. Smart. Attractive.”
“Really attractive,” the cabbie added from the front seat. He flashed a smile in the mirror. “Sorry, it’s just that you’re really pretty. And so are you.” His gaze shifted to me.
“Uh, thanks.” Not. “Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yeah. Attractive. And outgoing. And fun loving.”
“And an award winner,” she added. “I’ve been Neighbor of the Month for six months in a row. I’m never home and so it’s impossible for me to disturb anyone.”
“A multiple award winner,” I added. “And smart.”
“You already said that.”
“Did I?” I shook my head. “My point is, you’ve got it going on. You know it. Everyone knows it. So what’s the use of bragging?”
Excitement faded into worry. “You really think it would sound like bragging?”
I nodded. “And who needs it? I mean, my folks already love you, right?” It’s not like I was saying they loved her, or even implying it. I was posing a question.
I slid my hand down next to me and crossed my fingers anyway.
“You really think they love me? I know they like me. But love?” Hope filled her gaze as it met mine and my chest hitched again.
My mouth opened on its own. “Sure, they do.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “As for tomorrow, don’t worry about a thing. They’ll be thrilled.”
I was so going to hell for this if I ever got staked.
Or jail.
A strobe of red and blue lights cracked open the blackness just up ahead. A uniformed police officer appeared in the blaze of headlights and motioned for us to stop.
Uh-oh.
It’s okay, I told myself, my heart pounding, my gaze transfixed by the dizzying mix of red and blue that swirled atop the squad car that sat off to the side of the road.
Okay, okay, okay.
It’s just the police.
On the corner of my parents’ street. In the middle of the night. While I’m on the run for murder.
This was so not okay.
My heart jumped into my throat and my nerves started to buzz.
No need to panic. Just stay calm and cool. You’re a vampire, remember? It’s like having a Get out of Jail Free card. They walk up and you vamp them. Simple.
Unless, of course, it was a female cop.
My gaze sliced through the darkness. Oh, man.
Female cop equals major complication. I couldn’t vamp her unless s
he happened to like women instead of men.
Or both.
I held tight to the possibility and braced myself as the female officer walked to the driver’s window and tapped the edge of a flashlight against the glass. She wore the typical cop’s attire, her blond hair tucked up beneath her cap. A subtle swipe of Maybelline’s Cotton Candy on her full lips was the only thing that hinted she was a female. Well, that and her sizeable boobs.
Not that I normally notice the size of another woman’s chest, but they were right there and they were big. Her buttons tugged, threatening to break free every time she took a breath.
“Roll it down,” she told the cabbie.
He punched the button and the glass hummed its way down. The officer trained a flashlight on the driver, who promptly handed over his license and registration, along with a frantic explanation.
“It wasn’t me,” he blurted. “I didn’t lay a hand on her. She hit her face on the door all by herself. Granted, we were arguing and I should have just turned and walked away just like they said to do in anger management, but then she started talking about my mother and I couldn’t actually walk on account of my legs were shaking. She really hates my mother and the woman is practically a saint who raised me all by herself and worked two jobs. She doesn’t mean to call ten times a day. She’s just concerned. I’m all she has.
“But Jeanine doesn’t get that,” the cabbie rushed on. “She’s jealous. Crazy jealous. But I held it together this time and I didn’t hit her. I swear. I hit the door, but not her, and then I slammed the door and she was on the other side and it sort of hit her face, but it wasn’t like I did it directly. I haven’t laid one hand on her since the last time and—”
“Calm down, Mister…Wiley,” the officer read the name on the ID, “this is just a routine stop.”
“In that case, you’re one beautiful woman.” He stared directly at her chest. “And I do mean beautiful.”
“Can it, Romeo. Who’s with you?” The beam shifted to Mandy, who sat directly behind the driver.
Mandy pulled out her hospital badge and held it out to the officer. “I’m a doctor.”
“Is that right?”
Dead and Dateless Page 13
