by Tawny Taylor
Thank God for small miracles.
“Listen, you asshole, I already paid you. You’ll do what I say—”
The sound of scuffling ensued. Mandy guessed Sarah was being set straight. Mandy’s first inclination was to charge in there and try to protect her friend. But then she remembered that bitch had hired someone to kill her.
She walked in the opposite direction, staggering from one piece of furniture to another until she reached the front door. Out she went, into a dark and moonless night.
Praying to every god she’d heard of, she stumbled and rambled down the sidewalk. Little 1930s bungalows and mature oak trees lined the narrow street. Front yards were cluttered with toys, trash, and in some cases, discarded furniture. To say this wasn’t the best neighborhood was an understatement. She sent up some more prayers and continued down the street. Two blocks later, three encounters with mutant rats that were the size of a beagle, and one nearly fatal fall, she was standing at the intersection of the residential street and a main road. The squatty buildings on the road, most of them industrial, were all dark. Outside of the occasional car rolling past, the area looked deserted.
Just her luck. Her homicidal best friend had hauled her unconscious body to the bad side of town. But at least she’d been able to use the rough edge of a mangled metal fence post to cut the ropes and free her arms.
If her luck continued, she’d find an open party store. There were generally lots of those in areas like this.
She made it one block up before a car rolled to the curb. She knew that car. And there was no way in hell she was getting into it.
“Mandy,” her former best friend called to her through the open passenger window. “What are you doing out here?”
Mandy didn’t say a word. As tempting as it was to tell Sarah what she thought of her diabolical plans to have her killed, Mandy knew that was the wrong thing to do right now. She couldn’t afford to tip her friend off that she knew what was going on.
Sarah pulled the car into a parking lot a few buildings up and jumped out. The two former friends met in the middle. “It isn’t safe out here, especially with someone out to kill you.”
Yeah, isn’t that the truth. Mandy decided to play the too-drugged-up-to-know-what-she-was-doing card. “I was thirsty. Need a drink,” she slurred. “Where’s my car?”
“It’s in the bar parking lot. You passed out.”
Mandy eyed Sarah’s running car. She thought about her wobbly legs, her blurry vision, and her delayed reflexes. It was one hell of a long shot, but why not? “What the hell, I can walk.” Mandy tossed a casual wave over her shoulder and continued up the road, her sights set on Sarah’s car.
“Mandy, how about I drive you to the store?” Sarah called, shuffling after her. “It’s a half mile up the road. You wouldn’t want to walk that far.”
“I dunno.” Mandy stopped at the car’s rear bumper. She squinted at nothing down the street, behind Sarah. “Hey, who’s that? I think that man’s running this way.”
Just like she hoped, Sarah whirled around. Mandy scrambled into the car and threw it into reverse just as Sarah dashed up to the driver’s door. Sarah jerked the door open, but Mandy slammed on the gas. The car zoomed backward. Mandy stomped on the brake, shifted into drive, and hit the gas again. Ten seconds later, she waved at a shrinking Sarah in the rearview mirror.
“So long, bitch.”
Knowing she was in no condition to drive all the way home from wherever the hell she was, she pulled into the first full parking lot she came across. It was a bowling alley. Never more thankful for the built-in phone in Sarah’s car, she called Zane, explained everything, did some crying, and thanked him when he said he’d be there in fifteen minutes to pick her up. After cutting off the call, she did some more crying.
Her best friend, her employee, her confidant, and her companion had hired someone to kill her. Why?
By the time Zane’s fierce black car prowled up, she was almost completely cried out, or so she thought. Turned out she had a few more tears to expend when he hauled her into his arms and held her. She sobbed like a baby, making a mess of his shirt. Thankfully, he couldn’t care less. He merely asked, after she’d stopped, “Are you okay? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”
“I’m okay, but do you think we need proof that she drugged me?”
Zane’s expression changed. Mandy decided she didn’t like what she was seeing.
“I believe in the legal system,” Mandy told him. “You aren’t going to go vigilante vampire on me, are you?”
“I want to.”
“Please don’t. I’d rather do this the right way.”
“Very well.” His tone was clipped. “I suppose, in that case, a trip to the hospital would be wise.”
“Thank you.”
“But if you change your mind ...” He let the rest trail off.
She knew what he meant.
Several hours, a blood test, a pee test, and a police report later, Mandy was safe and sound in Zane’s bed. Being a god, he was kneeling, his legs straddling her unclad upper body, rubbing her back and spoiling her rotten.
After letting loose a long moan, Mandy murmured, “I could seriously get used to this.”
“You deserve it.” He angled over her, kissing her shoulder.
“Are you for real?”
“I think we’ve already established that.”
“Yeah.” Recalling the difficult conversation they’d had at the bondage club, Mandy’s happy, floaty mood dampened slightly. “That’s right.”
“Let’s not talk about that until later, after you’ve had some rest.”
“That’s probably wise.” She turned her head to the side, resting it on her raised, crossed arms. “Since I just found out my BFF wants me dead, I might not be thinking too clearly.”
“Exactly.” His hands worked lower, kneading the knots out of her lower back. “Close your eyes. Relax. Don’t think about any of that right now.”
She squeezed her eyelids shut. She could do that much. But shutting down the brain wasn’t quite so easy.
She tried thinking about work.
Her stupid brain switched gears, going right back to Sarah.
She tried thinking about Zane, naked.
Once again, her thoughts shifted back to her bitch of a former best friend.
Finally, she sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t understand. Why would Sarah want me dead? I sign her paychecks, not to mention I’ve been a true, trustworthy friend for ages. This makes no sense. None whatsoever.” She felt her body tensing up, even as Zane worked her muscles with his sure, strong hands. A few minutes later, he slid those hands down over her buttocks. An oil-slicked finger dipped between the globes, teasing her anus. “I can make you forget about her.” The finger slid inside.
Nothing.
“Sorry,” Mandy said. “I don’t think even sex is going to do it tonight. I need answers. I need the truth.” Pause. “I need to talk to her.”
“No.”
“Alone.”
“Hell no.” Zane swung off her.
Mandy logrolled over, then sat up. “I don’t believe she could kill me herself. That’s why she hired someone. I’ll be safe.”
Zane crossed his arms over his chest. “She could plan an ambush.”
“We’ll prepare for that possibility.”
He shook his head. His eyes were like ice. “This is a bad idea.”
“But you’ll help me, right?” She turned on the charm, tilting her head to display her sad puppy eyes. “Please?”
“Oh, hell.”
Mandy flung herself at him, knowing he’d catch her. Together, they tumbled onto the mattress, Mandy landing on top. “I love you, Zane.”
Zane’s hard eyes softened. “I love you, too.”
26
Twelve-oh-one.
Sarah was late.
Zane was looking tense. “Something’s not right.”
Mandy was feeling tense. “Sarah�
�s always late.” That much was true. “She’ll be here.” That much Mandy was beginning to doubt.
“I still think this is a bad idea.”
“You’ve prepared for every possibility imaginable, including a few that are beyond imagining.” Mandy leaned over and slid her arms around his big, hard, stressed-out bulk. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he grumbled as he pushed to his feet. “I’ll be right over there if you need me.”
Mandy tried to hide her anxiety. She figured she failed. “Thanks.”
The bell above the coffee shop’s door tinkled, signaling the arrival of another customer. As it had the last thirty times, Mandy’s gaze jerked to the entry. This time, she saw Sarah, looking nervous as she scanned the room.
Mandy waved.
Zane was long gone and out of sight by the time Sarah had reached the table. They’d selected that particular spot for a reason. It was located in the back, easy to protect. Zane was hiding in the hallway that led to the bathrooms, wearing an earpiece. He would hear every word Sarah said.
So would the hidden video camera Mandy had placed in the table’s centerpiece.
“Where have you been?” Sarah exclaimed, playing the part of worried best friend to perfection. This girl should win an Oscar. She had some skills. “I was so worried about you after you took off with my car.”
“I didn’t total it, if that’s what you’re worried about. I left it at a bowling alley.”
“I know. I had it tracked. GPS.” Sarah pulled a face. “Of course, I wasn’t worried about the car. I was concerned about you.”
“Of course you were.” The sarcasm in her voice couldn’t be clearer.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, there’s a reason why I ran away. I heard what you said.”
Sarah’s face took on the pasty shade of uncooked bread dough. It wasn’t a good look for her. She shifted in her chair. Her gaze lurched away, then bounced back. “What did you hear?”
“Oh, something about wanting me dead—”
“I wasn’t talking about you. Why would I want you dead? You’re my best friend.”
“Exactly.” Mandy didn’t say anything for a while. She let her former best friend squirm. Finally, she raised her eyebrows. “So, what’s the story?”
“I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t say anything about wanting anyone dead. I think you must’ve been hallucinating or something. Maybe it was the drugs—”
Hah! “How did you know I’d been drugged?” Mandy snapped.
“It was... just a guess. I mean, you were acting like you were on something. I thought Zane had dosed you when you went to his suite.”
“Zane.” Mandy shook her head, a humorless laugh filling the awkward silence. “I ate nothing that night. Drank nothing, other than that fucking berry concoction you handed me. It tasted like shit, but you’d convinced me it was awful because it was healthy.”
“There was nothing wrong with that drink. He could’ve injected you—”
“I had no needle marks.”
“Perhaps they were hidden.”
“I went to the hospital. What do you think the doctors found in my blood and urine tests?”
Sarah’s lips were becoming mighty thin. “I wouldn’t know.”
“GHB.”
“If you were dosed, it wasn’t by me.”
Mandy slapped her hands onto the table. The sound echoed through the entire shop. Heads turned. Curious eyes shifted to them. Mandy said, “Bullshit. I know it was you. If you don’t want me to go to the cops, you’d better tell me what the hell is going on.”
Sarah glanced over her shoulder, toward the door.
“Looking for someone?”
“No,” Sarah snapped.
“Dammit, you owe me an explanation.”
Sarah stared at her for one, two, three seconds. “I can’t ...” Her eyes blinked. The whites were turning red. Quickly.
This was not the behavior of a woman who was capable of planning a murder for her own selfish reasons.
Then again, Mandy couldn’t deny Sarah’s acting talent. Was this teary-eyed scene an act? Or was it real?
“Okay.” Sarah nodded. “You’re right.” She grabbed a paper napkin and wiped her watery eyes. “I did hire someone to kill you. But it got all fucked up.”
Mandy’s heart sank. “Why?”
Sarah’s jaw clenched. “Because ... I was jealous. Of you and Zane. You know, I’ve wanted him. For ages.”
“Wanted him? For what? He’s a dom. You’re a dom.”
“He’s a man. I’m a woman. And I’ve been in love with him since the moment I met him.”
“Really.” Why didn’t this make sense?
Sarah was doing a lot of sniffling now. And she was not keeping up with the tear flowage. Her face was getting wetter by the second. “I’m a bitch. I deserve to go to prison.”
“Then you’ll get what you having coming, I guess.”
Sarah nodded. Stood. “Okay. I suppose I should make some arrangements.”
“As long as they don’t involve vacation plans in, say, Mexico.”
“I won’t run. There’s no use. They’ll find me.” Sarah stood. Turned around. Walked out the door.
Mandy knew she was going to cry again. She grabbed Zane and rushed from the building just as the first sob tore up her throat. Zane held her. Stroked her back, her head. When she was done, she looked up into his dark eyes. “She said it was because of you.”
“I heard.” He looked genuinely confused.
“She said she’s been in love with you for a long time. That she was jealous because you love me.”
“Do you believe her?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“I think she’s lying,” he said.
Mandy was having her own doubts.
This wasn’t making sense. None of it did, actually. But Mandy figured that was because she was an emotional basket case, and how could any of it make sense when her world was all ajumble? “But I told her I’d be pressing charges. She knows she’ll go to prison. She didn’t try to talk me out of it.”
“Okay, so if she’s lying, why? Why would she be willing to go to prison for a crime she didn’t commit?”
“I wish I knew.”
Three weeks later, Mandy still didn’t know if Sarah had lied or not. She’d given everything she had to the police, including the recorded confession. They’d taken things from there, issuing formal charges. Sarah was now sitting in jail, awaiting a trial that wouldn’t take place for months.
Mandy did what she could to move on. She hired a new receptionist. His name was Max. He was young. He was enthusiastic. He did his job well ... but he wasn’t Sarah. Regardless, Mandy pushed on, pretty much throwing herself into her work. At night, she fell into bed, too exhausted to think about Sarah—for more than a few minutes. And during the day, she was too busy to think about much of anything.
Things with Zane progressed slowly. He didn’t pressure her into making a decision about Bruce. She was grateful for that fact. Still, she knew they continued with their relationship, spending time together when Mandy wasn’t around. It was a simple case of necessity. She knew that. But a part of her wondered if she was losing Zane because of what the two of them shared.
This week, she decided she’d see if she could handle being with them. Just this once. If it didn’t work out, she’d go back to the way it was before—the boys doing their thing while she tried to pretend it wasn’t happening.
God, she hoped she could handle it.
She called Zane on Wednesday. They made plans for Friday.
Today was Friday.
Mandy was ready...well, as ready as she was ever going to be. She was dressed to kill. She’d waxed, plucked, and buffed her skin to smooth perfection. She’d curled her hair into a mass of bouncy ringlets, just the way Zane liked it. And she’d carefully applied her makeup to accentuate her eyes and mouth. The overall effects, she’d have to ad
mit, were more than impressive.
Still, she was nervous as hell as she click-clacked up Zane’s front steps. Zane greeted her at the door, sweeping her into an embrace that melted away the worst of her anxiety.
“How are you?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’m better now.”
“Good. This way.” He led her to the dining room, an arm looped around her back. Bruce was sitting at the table. He was wearing clothes. That set Mandy somewhat at ease. He smiled. Mandy made her best effort at smiling back. Zane pulled out the chair opposite Bruce’s. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“A little.” Mandy settled into the chair, giving Zane a “Thanks,” over her shoulder after he pushed it in for her.
Zane took his seat at the head of the table.
Mandy glanced at Bruce, then focused her attention on Zane during the appetizers. Zane didn’t eat. Not a bite.
It was quiet. Eerily so.
Finally, Zane broke the silence. “Bruce, Amanda is a private detective. She runs her own agency.”
Strained small talk ensued. Mandy told Bruce about her work. He told her about his—he was a librarian. She discovered they had two things in common—Zane, of course, and loving the challenge of uncovering a hidden truth.
Outside of those two things, they lived very different lifestyles. Bruce had fathered five children, all of whom were fully grown. He looked like he couldn’t be a day over thirty. Zane explained the slower aging was a side effect of his venom. Mandy began to wonder if being a vampire’s food source had other perks as well.
By the time dessert had been served, Mandy was feeling slightly more at ease. Of course, her nerves became all jumpy and jerky the minute the meal was over and Zane suggested they head up to his suite.
Upstairs, he offered Mandy a drink. She decided one little wine cooler wouldn’t hurt. She sat on the couch, flung one leg over the other, and gulped the alcohol, hoping the big meal she’d just eaten wouldn’t keep her from catching a little buzz. At the moment, she needed some liquid courage.
Zane sat beside her, resting one hand on her thigh. Bruce took the seat on her other side. When he placed his hand on her other knee, she bristled.
