The Real Werewives of Vampire County

by Ivy, Alexandra; Fox, Angie; Dane, Tami; Haines, Jess

  He stood. The lights dimmed and I thought that would be the end of him, but Lucien came back. “Where does it hurt?” he asked, the bed creaking under his weight.

  “My head.”

  His cool hands slid across my cheeks as if he were preparing to play a delicate instrument. His fingertips found my aching temples and lingered, rubbing hypnotic circles until I felt the tension loosen.

  He kept on. Every thought I had focused on the way his hands soothed me. I shouldn’t have let him touch me like that. No one else did. Why should he be any different? He was vampire. Not pack.

  He was dead. He was a Predator.

  I swallowed and let him touch. To hell with it. I needed this.

  His hands moved through my hair, over my aching head, sending tiny chills down my body.

  “Not my neck,” I murmured.

  “No worries.” I heard him grin as the palm of his hand slid down the back of my head to rest at the aching spot at the top of my spine.

  He wasn’t going to bite me. I knew that somehow. And as soon as I decided, I tried to shove it out of my mind. I didn’t want to think of him any other way. I needed him to be a Predator. I was good at having enemies. The rest was too hard to figure out, especially right now.

  His hands found my shoulders.

  I rolled onto my stomach and let him dig his strong fingers into my aching muscles. Good lord, I hadn’t been petted in a long time. Ever, really. Damn, it felt good.

  His hands found the edges of my silk top and I let him strip it off. The air felt wonderfully cool against my skin, his fingers soothing.

  I floated above the pain, focusing only on Lucien’s touch. He worked the muscles along my spine, easing away the tension.

  He found the back of my bra. “Take it off,” I ordered. My voice betrayed none of the shakiness I felt.

  It was no big deal to be naked around pack. But it was different with Lucien. I knew that now.

  Still, I needed his skin against mine. It was a werewolf thing. It had nothing to do with the way he was touching me.

  The pain had eased somewhat, replaced by ... what—comfort? No, it was more than that.

  I had the sudden, maddening urge to touch him back.

  Gah. I shoved both hands under my pillow. “Take it off,” I said, voice muffled by the pillow. I wanted to feel his hands and nothing else.

  “Heather,” he said, his voice husky.

  “Please,” I said, before I could change my mind.

  I closed my eyes as his hands slid up either side of my chest, skimming the outer edges of my breasts. Awareness pricked me as his fingertips lingered above my nipples. It was everything I could do not to press forward against his hands.

  He wanted to touch me. I knew he did.

  I wanted it, too. But it would change everything.

  Lucien was too much of a gentleman to press me. Damn it. I let him slip my bra off.

  I didn’t even care about my lucky boot knife.

  Right now that didn’t matter. Nothing did.

  I was facedown, half-naked under a vampire and I didn’t care.

  Scratch that.

  I wanted him.

  It would be so easy to roll over and let him run his hands over my breasts, my stomach, and every other part of me that ached for him.

  “Lucien.” I felt the weight of him on the backs of my thighs as I turned over on the bed.

  I couldn’t help smiling at his hunger.

  “Watch it, werewolf.” He stroked a finger down my cheek, over the pulse of my neck and down to my breast. My breath caught as he found my nipple.

  Our eyes met.

  His faltered.

  “Not like this,” he whispered, pulling the covers over my body.

  The crisp white sheets felt smothering. “What do you mean?” I started to sit up until the pounding in my head returned, or maybe it had never stopped and I just hadn’t noticed.

  “You’re hurt,” he said, as if that would keep me from wanting to see him naked.

  “I’m going to be more hurt in a minute.” My body was screaming with frustration.

  He made it worse by pressing a kiss to my forehead, and then to the soft spot in front of my ear.

  I sighed. “You like to torture me, don’t you?”

  “More than you’ll ever know.” He settled in next to me. “Sleep.” He pressed against my back until he was spooning me in the most delicious way. It was warm, protective. It felt like the pack I’d never had.

  “Lucien, I—”

  “You need to rest, Heather.” He nuzzled his chin on my shoulder. “You did too much.”

  “But—” He was so close.

  “Shhh ...” His steadying weight blanketed me. “We’ll talk later.”

  I snuggled into the pillow, almost content. It did feel good. “You’re bossy.”

  “I know.”

  He held me like that until we drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 6

  A curtain creaked open and sunlight flooded my face. “Wake up. You going to sleep all day?”

  I cracked an eye open. Sweet heaven above. An Alexander Skarsgard look-alike stood next to my bed, shirtless, wearing battered Levi’s and a smile.

  He cocked a grin. “Don’t get too excited. It’s me.”

  Vinny.

  Of course. I’d recognize that New Jersey accent anywhere.

  I squinched my eyes closed and burrowed into the pillow. My head pounded and my stomach churned. I’d hoped the hangover would be gone by now.

  “Yo, sleeping beauty.” Even his voice made my head hurt.

  “If you want to investigate Bliss’s house, you’d better hurry.”

  Of course Lucien had updated Vinny. Worse, Vinny didn’t seem to be surprised to find me in his master’s bed. I was the worst werewolf ever. Sleeping with a bloodsucker.

  Damned vampire.

  I shoved a pillow over my face. Naturally, it smelled like him.

  The pillow went sailing across the room.

  Oh, who was I kidding? It wasn’t Vinny’s fault. Lucien had touched me and rubbed me and comforted me through my pain like no one else had, or probably ever would. I didn’t even know I needed that until I had it.

  I’d better not get used to it.

  I groaned and rolled over, certain traitorous parts still wishing they’d had their way with Lucien last night. Of course it would have been amazing. Damned vampire. I sure hoped he didn’t tell Vinny everything.

  “Come on.” Vinny shook the bed. “Lucien said you might want to do some investigating that didn’t involve thwacking your brain against a mental wall, so to speak.” He yanked back the covers. “Up and at ’em.” My shirt thwomped me on the head. “The lady just left for her weekly massage and seaweed wrap.”

  “Who?”

  “Bliss,” he said, losing patience.

  “Oh yeah.” I rolled over, tugging on my shirt. “And how do you know that?”

  “I flirted,” he said, as if it were obvious. “She’s leaving the alarm off for me. It’s a one-time opportunity, babe.”

  He tossed a key at my head.

  “Cripes, Vinny,” I mumbled as I caught the key, almost jealous of the fact that he’d allowed himself to flirt without feeling guilty about it. “What are you supposed to be anyway?”

  “I’m your gardener,” he said, relishing the role. “I mow things. I chop down trees. I flirt with the neighbors.”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to chop down trees.”

  “Oops.”

  “Okay, scram,” I said, forcing myself out of bed. I needed to get started.

  Knowing these women, a beauty treatment would give me several hours alone in the house. I’d like to find a bankbook and check into her money situation, maybe uncover anything else that I could ask her about. I needed to keep my conversations with these women useful and targeted—or else my head was going to explode.

  Besides that, we were on a deadline here. I had less than two days to figure out who’
d killed Sunny or this would all be for nothing. My pack would be at war.

  A shower and four Advil helped perk me up. Then I grabbed a cream and blue sundress with straw sandals that Tia had picked out. She’d labeled them with matching florescent yellow dots, which she’d found demeaning and I’d found extremely helpful. I tossed the dots into the trash and committed the outfit to memory.

  I waved to Vinny on my way out the door and couldn’t help grinning when he accidentally sliced a chunk off the front rosebushes. I had to think that was for me. And I enjoyed it immensely. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being a girly girl—at least while I was undercover.

  Of course, it would have been wiser to wear black while breaking into a house, but somehow, I fit in better in this neighborhood as I was. And it wasn’t like there’d be anyone home.

  According to Vinny, Bliss lived in the chocolate brown house on the corner. It was accented by large dark timbers and leafy palm trees. I was pleased to see that plants, rather than a fence, formed the barrier to the backyard. I’d rather not be seen entering through the front door.

  I ducked between two bougainvillea bushes. Dark-green leaves slapped at my face and thorns clawed at my skin and my dress, but I didn’t care. Once I made it past, I’d have plenty of cover to enter through the back.

  A finger nudged me on the shoulder.

  “Gah!” I stood straight up and banged my head on a heavy branch. “Ow!” I turned, trying to think of just what excuse I could give for slogging through Bliss Leeson’s bougainvilleas.

  Tia stood directly behind me. “Hi,” she whispered.

  I craned my neck to see who else might be watching. “What are you doing here?” The wind crackled the trees around us.

  She pulled a strand of auburn hair away from her face. “I stopped by your house. Vinny said you were investigating.”

  Vinny needed to keep his mouth closed. “What else did he say?” He’d better not have mentioned my powers.

  “Nothing,” she said, her expression earnest. “I figured you could use some help.”

  That surprised me. “What? You want to break into Bliss’s house?”

  Tia reared back like I’d struck her. “No!” She gathered herself. “Of course not.” She wet her lips. “It’s just that you might need a lookout.” She pointed a pink nail toward her immaculate front lawn across the street. “I can pretend to do yard work,” she said, way too excited.

  Aye yae yae. “Fine. Go.” We couldn’t be seen chatting in the bushes.

  She gave a shy smile. “You look good, by the way.”

  “You picked it out,” I said, parting the branches again.

  “Take credit, okay?” She turned and headed back.

  Right. I had bigger things on my mind. Like breaking and entering.

  I pushed my way through the foliage and into a heavily wooded backyard. Of course, what else could I expect from a weretiger? It was like a jungle back here. Tree branches wove overhead as clusters of jasmine and tall grass filled in underneath. Insects buzzed all around, and I could swear it was hard-packed mud and not sandy California soil under my feet. I picked my way through tangles of plants as they grabbed at my skin and clothes.

  At last I made it to a heavy oak door at the back of the house. Long gashes marred the wood. Someone had been playing—or using it as a scratching post. I hoped Bliss wasn’t an angry tiger. I mentally crossed my fingers as I inserted the key into the lock.

  Yip-yip-yip! A dog blustered on the other side. No doubt it was Chi-Chi, who was technically the owner of this place.

  Yip-yip-yip!

  Fierce.

  Yip-yip-yip!

  Luckily I had a way with dogs.

  I pushed open the door and stepped into the cool, dark interior of the house. “How goes it, Chi-Chi?”

  The little tan dog couldn’t have weighed more than two pounds wet. She had bulging eyes and a tail that wouldn’t stop. Yip-yip-yip! Every time she barked, the backfire sent her an inch off the hardwood.

  I bent down and let her sniff my hand before she nudged underneath and forced me to pet her between the ears. Well, at least I tried to give her a nice rub. Chi-Chi was having a hard time standing still.

  “You gotta stop barking, okay? Auntie Heather has a hangover.”

  She licked my hand and I took that as agreement.

  Chi-Chi followed me through the mudroom and into the kitchen, collar jingling and nails clacking on the floor.

  It was lighter in here, although Bliss kept plants clustered around the narrow windows.

  I opened the fridge and found a few bottles of white wine and a package of steaks.

  Chi-Chi whined.

  “Hey, I’d give you one, except nobody can know we’re hanging out.”

  Chi-Chi had to sit and think about that one.

  I moved on down a side hallway and found Bliss’s office. Rich Indian fabric covered the walls. The desk itself was painted with images of four-armed women and colorful elephants. Mirrored tiles studded the corners.

  I started on the drawers at the upper right and worked my way down. “You know where Mama keeps her financial files?”

  The dog growled.

  “Fair enough. I won’t call her that.”

  I rifled through years of household documents, plastic surgery records—who injects themselves with neurotoxins in the name of beauty? Finally, I found her bank records shoved in a heap in the bottom drawer.

  The gossip was wrong. Her finances looked great—better than great. Bliss was getting large influxes of cash. She was spending it, too. I couldn’t tell where the payments were coming from. They were merely noted as transfers. Still, they couldn’t be blackmail, unless she was blackmailing Donald Trump.

  After the office, I searched her bathroom. You could tell a lot about someone by her bathroom. What I learned about Bliss was that she was a slob, and if there was ever a shampoo shortage, I knew where to go. The woman had at least a dozen different bottles.

  “We need, more, Chi-Chi,” I said, moving to her bedroom.

  The Chihuahua jumped up on the bed and gave a big yawn. Yeah, I knew it wasn’t her problem.

  I checked my watch. I’d been in here for an hour. We had to pick up the pace. “Okay, Chi-Chi, where would I hide something I didn’t want anyone to find?”

  My eyes settled on the walk-in bedroom closet, with its door hanging open and clothes littering the floor. I ignored them, and the endless shelves and teak wood racks. Instead, I walked to the very back of the closet. It was stacked with shoeboxes. They were perfectly dusted, but older. I could tell by their slightly caved-in lids. And so I went through boxes. I saw blue heels and gold heels and enough heels to make my own feet ache. Until I opened a box and found row upon row of pill bottles.

  Excitement zinged through me. This was what I’d been looking for. I knew it before I even knew what it was.

  None of the bottles had prescription labels. Instead, they were marked with expiration dates written in black Sharpie and tiny brand labels—Slimprol.

  I popped open a bottle and discovered sparkly blue tablets about the size of aspirin.

  Slimprol. I’d never heard of it. Of course that didn’t mean anything. I kept myself fit without this junk. Still, if this was legal, it wouldn’t be stuffed in the back of a closet.

  It killed me not to take a sample, but I didn’t want to rouse suspicions—not until I knew what we were dealing with.

  Instead, I found a pen and began a complete inventory of the box, including expiration dates and pill volume. Well, until Chi-Chi shot off the bed barking.

  Yip-yip-yip!

  Her barks grew fainter as I heard the front door open.

  Bliss was home!

  Yip-yip-yip!

  I was trapped!

  Yip-yip-yip!

  Hands shaking, I made sure there was no trace of my presence, then dashed for the window. I threw open the curtains and found an ornate wooden grate.

  “What the—?”

  I tried
to shove it back, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Yip-yip-yip! Chi-Chi’s barking grew closer. Bliss could probably smell me. She was tracking me!

  Calm down. I had to think.

  At least she didn’t know who I was—yet.

  I attacked the grate and felt it start to give. I’d rip it off the hinges before I got trapped in here with a tiger.

  “Bliss!” Tia called from the front of the house. “I’m so glad you’re back. I need to talk to you.”

  I heard a low growl from the hallway.

  “Bliss.” Tia was inside the house. “It’s important.”

  “Not now, Tia,” Bliss said, her voice throaty.

  “But”—Tia’s voice cracked—“you put me in charge of planning the midnight golf scramble and I know we’re having it at the country club, but we never did decide if the men were going to take golf carts. I know that vampire you’re dating likes to levitate.”

  “Don’t you dare talk about who I’m dating,” Bliss roared.

  “I won’t,” Tia squeaked. “I can’t. You never told me. Anyhow, we really need to decide on the carts or else we might not get enough or even the ones we want and ...”

  I could feel Bliss losing patience as I renewed my struggle with the grate.

  Forget it. It wasn’t budging. I hoped Tia had drawn Bliss far enough away from the back hallway. I had one shot at escaping.

  I darted out into the hall, ready to be bowled over. But it was empty. Hallelujah! I dashed out the way I’d come in—down the hall, through the kitchen. I thought I spotted a glimpse of yellow as I darted past an area exposed to the front door, but I didn’t hesitate. In fact, I didn’t stop until I was back home with the door locked behind me.

  CHAPTER 7

  I tossed a ThighMaster out of my closet, followed by a pair of wedge sandals and a paraffin wax hand-dipping kit.

  “Ow!” Vinny protested behind me, rubbing his forehead.

  Oh, come on. I couldn’t have hit him that hard. Besides, we had bigger problems. “Where are my heels?” I groused. “The ones with the green stickers?”

  Tia’s dress-to-shoes color-coding system was no good if I couldn’t keep my new wardrobe straight.

  Vinny massaged his head in a clearly dramatic attempt to make me feel like a crazy woman. “I don’t care where your green stickers are. I came up here to tell you Lucien is making a call. After that, he needs you downstairs.”