“Don’t encourage her.” Mom narrowed her gaze at Patrick. “Why are you calling Simone?”
“Because the fairy wish probably has something to with Flet,” he offered. He took out his cell phone. “I’ll be right back.” He went outside to the porch, either for privacy or more likely to get away from my mother’s bone-melting glares.
She turned to me. “What is a Flet?”
“A pain-in-the-ass pixie who likes to cause trouble,” I said.
“I’m getting a cup of coffee,” said Mom. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything. I keep forgetting to pick up a pint of blood.”
Mom thought it was the height of rudeness not to offer guests something to drink, even vampire guests. Vampires could only eat and drink inside the borders of Broken Heart, thanks to that ornery wish-granting Flet. On the up side, I got to eat chocolate again. Nothing tastes better than a Godiva truffle. Except Patrick. And blood. (Sorry, but … hey, vampire here.)
Despite the fact I had been a vampire for quite a while now, and Mom visited Broken Heart regularly, she wasn’t much for wanting to know exactly what went on in our strange little town. Plus, there was no way in hell she’d keep a pint of blood in her refrigerator. Not that we’d want to drink it … bagged blood tasted awful.
Mom offered me a tired smile, and then went to the kitchen. The cabin was basically a huge open space—living room, dining room, and kitchen. There were two bedrooms, and the bathroom. It wasn’t a big place, but it still felt lonely. I wished Mom would move into town. It probably wasn’t good for her to spend nearly all her time alone in this place—especially with its memories of the best of our family times.
Patrick finished his phone call and returned to me. “Simone an’ Brady are on the way. And they’re bringin’ Flet.”
I wrapped my arms around Patrick and laid my head on his shoulder. “You know, I’d say tonight was really strange…”
“But it’s really not,” finished Patrick. He stroked my hair. “At least, not for us.”
Truer words were never spoken.
BRADY AND SIMONE arrived with a jar full of pissed-off pixie. We gathered in the living room, and Eros appeared—literally. He wore a white T-shirt, faded jeans, and Converse sneakers.
“What happened to the suit?” I asked.
“I burned it.”
I gave him a thumbs-up. “Good call.”
Flet floated in his glass prison, all sparkling fury. His gold light, however, dimmed considerably when Brady showed him the vial of black glitter. Flet took one look at the evidence, and crossed his tiny arms. “I didn’t do it.”
“Flet,” said Simone, her voice full of warning. “We know what a fairy wish looks like when it’s been used. We also know you’re the only one around here who can grant wishes.”
I looked at my mother, wondering why she was staying so quiet. She sipped from her coffee mug, eyeing Flet like a bug she wanted to squash. Well, we’d all had that feeling a time or two. Flet could be impetuous, especially when he got bored.
“What did you do, little guy?” asked Brady.
Flet remained mutinously quiet.
“Confess,” demanded Simone. “Or you will be in charge of Glory’s slumber party and entertaining eight pre-teen girls.”
Flet flinched.
“That means talking about boys, having pillow fights, watching chick flicks, and comparing boobs,” added Simone. “Are you prepared to show off your boobs, Flet?”
“Sweet mercy! All right, all right,” said Flet, raising his itty bitty hands in a gesture of giving up. “I thought Colleen … er, needed a wish for Valentine’s Day. Yes.” He nodded eagerly. “So … I, um, put one in the gift store, and gave her a wee bit of encouragement to buy it.”
That meant the little bugger used some of his pixie influence on Mom. I took the jar from Simone, and brought it to my eye level. “Are you saying my mother wished for a psychopathic Cupid?” I asked.
“Hey,” protested Eros. “I’m the god of love. Talk to Hades if you want death wishes.”
Flet looked genuinely horrified. “I granted no such thing.” His expression went sullen, and then he sent a wounded glance at Mom. “Why don’t you ask her?”
We all turned toward my mother. She took a long sip of coffee, but the mug was too small to hide her obvious discomfort. She glanced around at our faces—and finished off her drink.
I sniffed at the foreign smell that wafted from the empty mug. “What kind of coffee is that?” I asked.
“Bourbon,” she said.
Holy crap. Was my mother losing it, or what? Booze. Guns. What was next? Chippendales in a hot tub? I glanced at Eros. She’d come pretty close to that one, especially if she had figured out a way to haul him to lake along with his bow.
“All right, Mom. You said the glitter was gold. Now it’s black. The wish was used.” I pointed at Brady, and he held up the vial as though he were a prosecutor showing the jury incontrovertible evidence. I arched an eyebrow. “’Fess up, woman.”
Mom did something I’d never seen her do before.
She blushed.
I was dumbfounded into silence. I felt Patrick’s arm slid around my shoulder and he tucked me in close. He always knew when to comfort me—though I suspected he was really trying to keep me from strangling people.
We should work our mind mojo on her, I sent to him. She’s keeping secrets.
She’s allowed to have secrets. Love, I know you’ve been worried about her, but she’s always under our protection. She’ll be fine.
Gah. I hate it when you’re reasonable.
Well, then. I promise t’ be unreasonable later … in our bed.
Sweeeeet.
“I’ve been visiting someone,” said Mom.
“Who?” I asked. “Where? When?”
I didn’t believe it was possible, but my mother’s cheeks reddened even more.
“For the last six months, I’ve been seeing a very nice gentleman.” She cleared her throat. “His name is Arthur.”
Mom had never dated. Not ever. I mean, maybe before my dad, but after he passed away, she claimed he was her great love—and she never blinked an eye at another man. For twenty-freaking-years.
“Where on earth did you meet him, Mom? You don’t own a computer. You only go into town for groceries. And the only people you see are—” I gasped. “You met Arthur in Broken Heart?” Patrick’s arm tightened around me, as if he were afraid I was going to tackle my mother and pinch her until she told me everything.
Which wasn’t a bad idea.
“Yes,” she said. “I met Arthur in Broken Heart. He lives in the Golden Oaks Retirement Community.”
“The senior citizen nudist colony!?” My mouth dropped open. Patrick gently used his free hand to close it, and then he laid his fingers across my lips.
“It’s clothing-optional, dear,” she corrected. “You’ve been persistent about having me move into town, so I decided to check it out.” She raised her hand to forestall my protests, even though Patrick had already ensured I wouldn’t speak. Or yell. Or lose my shit completely. “I know you’ve said you have plenty of room at your house, but my independence is important to me. I need my own space, Jessica. And God forgive me, but you would drive me so crazy, I would end up staking you.”
Eros laughed, and his guffaw was followed by those of my supposed friends, Brady and Simone. And even my own husband wanted to laugh—which was why his stomach muscles were tensed and his hand trembled as he fought for control.
I batted his hand away from my mouth. “If you’re dating someone, then why in the hell do you need a lonely heart’s wish?” I spun and glared at Flet. “You wanna add something to your story, frog bait?”
Flet immediately looked guilty. He shuffled his tiny feet, and then he sighed. He placed both hands upon his heart. “Maybe I interfered a little,” he admitted. “But only t’ help. I swear upon the soul of Saint Valentine.”
“Which one?” asked Eros. He leaned down and studied F
let through the glass. “You’re not just any pixie, are you? You’re the little bastard who enchanted Geoffrey Chaucer.” Eros chuckled as he straightened. “Chaucer was the one who associated romantic love with Saint Valentine’s Day. The story was called Parlement of Foules.”
“I did not enchant him,” said Flet. “He was my friend. He made a deathbed wish, okay?”
Uh, I was drawing a blank. I didn’t have enough room in my head for all the vampire shit I needed to remember, much less anything to do with pixies.
“A deathbed wish is far more powerful than a regular wish. Geoffrey asked nothing from me, even though I offered time and again. Except on the day he died. He asked me to grant love to a deserving couple each Valentine’s Day in remembrance of him.” He turned to my mother. “So, I gave it to you and Arthur.”
“You need another shot of bourbon, Mom?” I asked.
“Maybe several,” she said, looked dazed. “Oh, dear.”
“Why am I here?” asked Eros. “I’ve never fulfilled a Valentine’s Day wish while under pixie enchantment.”
“That’s not my fault,” said Flet. “Your appearance clearly had something t’ do with the words of the wish.”
“You gave them a lover’s wish without telling them?” I asked.
Flet looked at his feet. “Sorta.”
“Wait a minute,” said Simone. “You said and … Colleen and Arthur.”
“Is that bad?” I asked. I looked at Simone’s alarmed expression, and gulped. “It is bad. Crap.”
Music burst into the room. Huh. It sounded like a Bon Jovi song. I listened harder. Oh, yeah. That song from the ‘80s … waaaay back when music still made sense to me. Golden light shimmered in front of Eros, and then it consumed him completely. After a few seconds, the light and music faded, and Eros stood there once again dressed in pink-stripped Armani. At least his shoes were—oh. Never mind. They were pink, too.
In his hands, he held the golden bow.
“Fuck,” said Eros.
Then he disappeared.
SINCE NEITHER BRADY nor Simone had the ability to travel by beam-me-up-vampire-Scottie, we decided that Flet would take Simone, I would take Brady, and Patrick would take Mom.
Once we got that all figured out, we got with the undead atom implosions, and landed inside the Golden Oak Retirement Community.
Poolside.
During a party.
A naked old people party.
Sir-Mix-A-Lot loudly proclaimed his love of big butts, and several partygoers were shaking theirs with enthusiasm. And other body parts were swaying and wiggling and—I let go of Brady and pressed my hands against my face. “My eyes,” I cried. “My eeeeeeyyyeeees.”
“It’s not that bad,” muttered Brady.
“We have vampire vision. And immortal memory. I need therapy, STAT.”
“Jessica, my love!” Oh, sweet baby Jesus. That impish Irish brogue belonged to Ruadan, the first vampire in the world, the biological father of Patrick, and my undead father-in-law.
I pressed my hands harder against my eyes. “He’s standing right in front of us, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” said Brady.
“He’s naked, isn’t he?”
“Oh, yes, love. I’m very naked. You should try it. You’re too tense.”
“You have to go away,” I said. “I cannot look at my nude father-in-law.”
“The human body is a beautiful thing, Jess.”
“You’re not human!”
“My body still is.”
“Dad?”
Patrick’s voice was very near, on the right of me. I felt his arm go around my shoulders, I turned and pressed my face against his chest. I nearly wept with relief.
“Wow.” Simone’s voice filtered through Sir-Mix-A-Lot’s booming rap song. “Ruadan? Jeez, that’s a—oh, hey, honey. I didn’t see you there.”
“Simone!” cried Ruadan. “Good t’ see you!”
“If you hug my wife,” said Brady in the coldest voice I’d ever heard, “you will die.”
“Da, why are you naked?” asked Patrick.
“Everyone’s naked,” said Ruadan. “I didn’t want to be rude and show up with me clothes on.”
“You certainly are fit, Ruadan.” That voice belonged to my mother. I heard her gasp, and realized she’d glanced down at his package. “My goodness.”
“Kill me,” I whispered. “Please.”
“Let’s just find Eros,” said Patrick. If I didn’t know better, I would think panic edged his tone. “Colleen? Shall we go to Arthur’s apartment?”
“Yes. It’s a short walk from here.”
Because my husband loves me, and because he probably didn’t want to pay for my very expensive therapy, he scooped me up and carried me through the crowd.
I refused to open my eyes until he swore that we were standing in front of Arthur’s apartment door and there were no naked people in sight.
Patrick gently put me on my feet, and I opened my eyes. Brady and Simone, now with a freed Flet hovering near her shoulder, were on our left.
Mom knocked on the door. “Arthur?” she called. “It’s me, dear. It’s Colleen.”
“Aaaaaahhhh!” shouted a man.
“Oh, my God! Arthur!”
“Mom, move.”
She stepped out of the way, and I gave the door a shove. It busted off the hinges and fell inward. We all marched inside.
Eros stood in the living room, his bow aimed at a man standing about three feet away. A towel was wrapped around his waist, thank the saints. Arthur had a bit of belly, in cute way I guess, a rather lot of chest hair, a likeable—if not frightened—face, and thinning gray hair. We gathered around Eros, all except my mother, who went to comfort her boyfriend.
“Shot through the heart,” he cried. He pointed at Eros. “And you’re to blame!”
I bumped Eros with my shoulder. “Dude. You give love a bad name.”
Eros blinked, and looked down at me. “You again?” He swiveled around and took in his surroundings. “Shit. What did I do this time?”
“You shot Arthur with your magic love arrows.” I grinned. “That sounds like a porno.”
“You are so odd.”
“Unique,” I said.
“Did he really shoot you, Arthur?” asked Colleen.
“Yes. With a gold arrow that just sank into my chest. It tingled.”
Eros grimaced. “I’m sorry. Look, we can explain—”
Arthur backed up a step, dragging my mother with him, and held up both hands. His eyes went red and he flashed his fangs. “I don’t want any trouble!”
His towel dropped to the floor.
And I was suddenly staring at the penis of my potential step-father.
I studied his package … well, because I couldn’t not look at it. Don’t judge. You’d do the same thing.
“Hey, Artie,” I said. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”
“BUT WEREN’T WE already falling in love?” asked Arthur. He’d made a concession to us clothed folks by putting on a pair of shorts. We sat around his dining room table drinking bourbon as we filled him in about Flet’s disastrous attempt at fulfilling wishes and poor Eros’ forced compliance in said wishes.
“Maybe you were,” slurred Flet. He sat on the edge of a shot glass, dipping his hand into the bourbon. “But she wasn’t.”
Arthur frowned. He turned and took Mom’s hands in his. “You’re not sure about us? Even after last night?”
“Last night?” I asked. “What happened last night?”
“None of your business, young lady,” said Mom.
“I’ve already seen Artie’s penis,” I said. “So it’s okay to admit you two had sex.”
Mom’s jaw went slack. “We didn’t actually … do it.”
“We’re not bound,” said Arthur. “But still, Colleen, your daughter has a point.”
And I really wanted to say, No, Artie, apparently you had the point, but Patrick put his hand on my leg and squeezed.
K
eep it up, love, and your mother will ground you.
You mean, stake me. Okay, okay. I’ll be good.
You’re a darlin’ liar, you are.
I smiled.
“I have to admit, Arthur, that I starting thinking about our differences. I’m human, and you’re a vampire. You’ll stay sixty-six forever, and I will just keep getting older.” She brought a hand to her face, a still beautiful face even with its laugh lines and wrinkles. “I know I could try to Turn … but I just don’t know. And how could you want me if we have so little time left together? And what if … if I die … and you’re bound to me … you know that’s not going to be easy.”
“I don’t care. I cherish every minute with you,” said Arthur. “I didn’t get a choice about Turning, but I understand your dilemma. Just be with me, Colleen. We’ll figure it out.”
Mom looked torn. I could tell she wanted to leap, to be in love, and to be with someone who loved her. With Arthur, she wouldn’t be alone anymore, and she would have a partner. For however long that may be—whether it was another twenty years or it was forever.
“Choose love,” I told her. “You should always choose love.”
Mom smiled at me, her eyes bright with tears. Then she leaned over and gave Arthur a gentle kiss. “Okay,” she said. “I’m yours.”
“Wish granted!” said Flet, lifting both arms in a motion of triumph. “I rule!” He fell backward, off the shot glass, and splattered on the table. Gold glitter puffed out.
Then he was still.
A tiny snore emitted from his tiny nose.
“He’s passed out,” said Simone. “I think that’s our cue to go home.”
“Ours, too,” said Patrick.
We all stood up and said our good-byes. I was the last to hug my mother. She kissed my cheek, and said, “Thank you.”
“I love you,” I said.
“Love you, too.”
Eros was still in his pink suit, but his bow had disappeared. He walked with us as far as the courtyard.
“It’s been an interesting experience,” he said. “I think I’ve been retired long enough. It’s time to come back to the world of humans, and help them find love.”
“Lots of people find love,” I said. “Why do you think they need your help?”
Broken Heart: Visitor's Pass (Paranormal Boxed Set) (Broken Heart Paranormal Series Book 0) Page 5
