Just One Bite (18 page)

“We can do this easy or we can do it hard. Your choice, but either way, you’re coming with me.”

Evie’s eyes darkened to a ferocious black. “I’m going to slice you up into tiny little pieces and make you beg for mercy.” The deep unearthly voice seemed so out of character coming out of Evie’s mouth that I couldn’t help myself.

I grinned and she frowned. “Sorry. It’s just really hard to take you seriously when you’re wearing lip gloss and a toe ring.”

“Can it, bitch.”

“Now, now.” I reached for her. “Is that any way to talk to your boss?”

“Let go of me”—Tall, Dark, and Slimey struggled—“or I’ll rip you to pieces.”

“Looks like someone has anger management issues.” I locked my grip around her upper arms and started hauling her around the side of the building.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“Asswipe.”

“If you think calling me names is going to rattle me, forget it. I’ve been called
much
worse. Case in point: last week’s after-hours sale at Barneys. Picture the last pink silk scarf, a half dozen salivating women, and yours truly.”

“Shithead.”

“Sticks and stones.”

“Cunt.”

“Is that the best you can do?”

“Where’d you get that skirt?” the demon spat. “Wal-Mart?”

Okay, now I was pissed.

I ducked, caught Evie in the middle with my shoulder, and flipped her over. She beat at my back and I clamped my arms tighter around her legs. A blaze of headlights bounced off the brick building as the black Cadillac appeared at the end of the alley.

Vinnie climbed out of the car and popped the trunk as we reached him.

I took one look at the pile of animal fur and shook my head.

He shrugged. “What?”

“Don’t you think it might be a little crowded in there?”

“Are you shittin’ me? These caddies have massive trunks. I once fit two werewolves, a made vampire, a fairy, and two were pigs in here, and I even had a few inches to spare.”

“You must be so proud.” Not. I carted Evie around to the backseat and folded her in. “Could you just close the trunk and drive?” I crawled in after her. She was kicking and spitting and clawing at the seats, but it did little damage other than to piss me off.

“If you don’t stop,” I growled, “I swear I’m going to get nasty.”

“You and what legion?” she spat.

“No legion. Just me and my buddy Ash.”

As if a switch had been tripped, the movements stopped. Evie’s gaze went white and her head lolled back.

Cripes, if I had known it would be that easy, I would have mentioned his name sooner.

I settled into the backseat while Vinnie climbed behind the wheel.

He glanced over his shoulder at Evie. His Ray-Bans glittered in the darkness.

“Don’t ask,” I told him.

“She a friend of yours?”

“She works for me. Human,” I added before he could ask. “And no, she doesn’t know what I am.”

“A blood slave?”

“You’ve watched
Blade
too many times.” That, or he’d been in attendance at the last Marchette family reunion. “We don’t do that anymore.”
We
being me, myself, and I.

“She drunk?”

“Very. That’s why I’m taking her home. And no, I’m not going to take advantage of her and rip her to shreds. Despite what you think, not all vampires are bloodsuckers.”

I expected a smart remark, but instead he shrugged. “Where to?”

“My place.” I gave him the address.

Vinnie gunned the engine and headed for Broadway.

I turned toward Evie. She was limp and cooperative right now, but for how long? My mind replayed the conversation with Ash and I tapped Vinnie on the shoulder.

“We have to make one stop first.”

“What are we doing here?” Vinnie stared through the driver’s window at the massive church fifteen minutes later. The stained glass windows of St. Michael’s reflected the nearby street lights and gave the place an ominous feel.

“After all those clubs, I figured a little confession was in order.”

“I didn’t know you were Catholic.”

“Not for me, for you.”

He half-turned, his arm on the seat as he eyeballed me. “The sanctuary’s open, but there’s no priest here at this hour.”

“Then just light some candles and say a few Hail Marys”—I motioned to the thermos sitting on his dashboard—“and snag me some holy water while you’re at it.”

I expected a smart-ass
“I don’t see how this is going to bring out my inner pansy,”
or, at the very least, a threatening
“You better not be shittin’ me.”
But twenty-four hours without sleep seemed to have peeled away the difficult-asshole layer of Vinnie Balducci. The most he did was shrug.

Reaching for the thermos, he climbed out of the car and headed for the massive double doors.

Eighteen

O
nce we were back at my place, I left Vinnie out front with Evie (with a strict DO NOT TOUCH policy) and headed upstairs to demon-proof my bedroom. I sprinkled holy water on the windowsills and around the outer perimeter of the room, and then I headed back downstairs for my friend.

I found her sitting in the backseat of Vinnie’s Caddy, puffing away on a cigar.

I snatched the nasty thing from between her lips. “I’m not saving you from the bowels of Hell so you can get lung cancer and wind up there anyway.”

“Bite me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I held up my cellphone. “Why don’t you tell that to Ash?”

Her eyeballs rolled back in her head again and she went limp.

What can I say? Works every time.

I hauled her out of the backseat and carted her up to my apartment. I deposited her on my bed and finished sprinkling the holy water across the threshold where I’d just entered. Once I felt certain I’d closed every entry and exit, I shut the bedroom door and headed back into the living room. I nudged Vinnie awake—he was half asleep on the couch—and sent him to Mrs. Janske’s to pick up Killer.

“She said to tell you that she’s filing rape charges against your boy, here,” he told me when he returned a few minutes later.

“Come again?”

Vinnie held up the cat. “Said the little guy was humping everything in sight.”

Killer gave an exhausted
meow
and Vinnie grinned.

I frowned. “If you two start high-fiving each other, I’m kicking the both of you out.”

“Promise?” Vinnie looked so hopeful—and exhausted—that my chest hitched. “Because I don’t think I can take much more. The oldest vampire in existence could be standing right in front of me and I don’t think I’d have the strength to nail him, even if it meant a bonus trip to Jamaica.” He set Killer down and was about to collapse on my sofa when I grabbed him by the shoulders and steered him around toward the front door.

“Out.”

“Really? I get to sleep now?”

“Not exactly. Go home and watch these first.” I handed him the extra three DVDs—
Pretty Woman, The Notebook,
and the first season of
Grey’s Anatomy
—I’d picked up while shopping for the demon fest. “Then get some sleep, take a shower, and meet me at DED tonight at eight.”

He took one look at the movies. “I hate you.”

“That’s the point. If you were totally cool with all of this, then you wouldn’t need my help. Just stop whining, watch the movies, and DO NOT show up with any dead bodies in the trunk.”

“I
really
hate you.”

“Matchmaking.” I shrugged. “It’s a tough gig, but somebody’s gotta do it.”

Once I sent Vinnie on his way, I gave Killer a can of cat food and an abstinence lecture, and then nuked myself a glass of blood. After downing the contents, I collapsed on the sofa to check my cellphone messages.

I had six. All from my mother.

The first four demanded to know why I’d bailed on Remy.

Number five reminded me that I owed my mother for seventy-two hours of labor and a lifetime of nurturing.

Number six announced that my mother’s oldest and dearest friend, Louise Bastillion, was about to welcome her sixty-ninth grandchild, and meanwhile my poor mother had a big fat zero.

I tamped down a sudden rush of guilt (the woman knew her stuff) and went to check on Evie.

She lay on her side, eyes closed, face passive. If not for the thin line of green drool (I was so hitting the nearest Linens ’n Things when this was all over with) oozing from the corner of her mouth, I would never have made her for a demon.

Okay, so the drool and the smell, and the gnashing of teeth. But otherwise, she could have been any hot, happening twenty-something crashing after a night of lesbian club-hopping.

She was still Evie.

I clung tight to the hope, shut the door, and headed back to the sofa. I sat there for several moments and debated whether or not to turn on the TV. Or the radio. Or something.
Anything
to shatter the sudden isolation that wrapped around me.

I hadn’t felt quite this lonesome since the time I’d been wanted for murder.

But even then, I’d had Ty to help me out, talk to, confide in. I hadn’t been alone.
Lonely.

My fingers itched and I almost snatched up the phone to call him. But Ty and Ash were buddies. Calling him would be as good as handing Evie over to Ash myself, and I had no intention of doing that.

I had to figure out a way to help her on my own.

I would, just as soon as I cleared out the cobwebs and got a decent day’s rest. Sleep first, then surely genius would strike and my problems would be solved.

I stretched out on my side and dangled an arm over the edge of the couch. I snapped my fingers and made kissy noises at Killer, who sprawled on the floor a few feet away.

He lifted his head and blinked at me.
Give a guy a break, would ya? I’m exhausted.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just thought you might want to cuddle since we have a demon in the very next room and it’s common knowledge that cats are a hot commodity when it comes to demons. I figured you might need someone to watch your back.” I shrugged. “But if you’re not interested…”

You’re making that up.

“Maybe, but what if I’m not?”

He blinked again before pushing to his feet.
Oh, all right. But don’t think I’m making a habit of this. Demon or no demon, I’m not the cuddly type.
A few steps and he leaped up onto the sofa and settled down next to me.

“Just this once,” I assured him, gathering him close. “In the interest of self-preservation.”

Damn straight.

He snuggled closer and I hugged him tighter, and in a matter of seconds, we were both sound asleep.

When I woke up later that afternoon, I was no better off than when I’d first closed my eyes. Despite my high hopes, I hadn’t had one stroke of genius or even a tiny dream to clue me in as to a solid plan to help my assistant. Sleep wrought nothing except a massive headache and a mouthful of cat hair.

I came up sputtering while Killer gave me a that’ll-teach-you-to-cuddle-with-me look.

I checked on Evie, who lay on her back, her arms extended on either side. She hung suspended in midair approximately two feet over the mattress, her mouth open, her eyes rolled back. Her chest heaved and a loud wheeze vibrated through the air.

“Don’t mind me.” I tiptoed into the frigid room, retrieved a pair of Rock & Republic jeans, a rhinestone AC/DC tee, and a pair of Courtney Crawford black leather ankle straps. I was halfway to the door when her eyes opened and her head swiveled toward me. Her gaze snagged on the shoes in my hand and her mouth opened.

“You wouldn’t…”

Her face split into an evil grin and I picked up my steps.

I ducked through the doorway and shut the door just as a glob of green goop came flying across the room. It hit the wood with a solid
splat
and reminded me that my time was running out.

Today, Evie was sliming filthy expensive, wicked hot footwear. Tomorrow? Chopping some poor woman into a zillion pieces.

I spent the next half hour ignoring my cellphone (give it up already, Ma), getting ready for work, and mapping out my next move.