“You know I can’t…” His words trailed off and he ran his hand over his face. “It’s not safe.”
“We can’t be together. I know that.” Boy, did I ever. “But what does that mean? That I’m supposed to sit around crying about it and never get on with my life? I like Remy.” I wasn’t sure when the conversation had shifted from a ruse to cover for the demon in my bedroom to my mixed-up feelings for Fairfield’s police chief, but suddenly I wasn’t just trying to convince Ty. Even more, I was trying to convince myself. “He’s a decent vampire.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“You don’t have to because it’s not your decision. You already made your decision by not calling or trying.”
Or caring.
The tears came on their own this time. I blinked frantically to hold them back, but no dice.
A hot drop slid down my cheek.
Okay, make that two.
Whereas the waterworks had sounded like a good idea just a few minutes ago, now they seemed foolish. I wiped frantically at my face. “I really think you should go.”
He stared down at me as if debating his next move, then his gaze slid past me to the closed door. Marvin belted out
“Baaaaaa-beeeeee, I can’t wait much longer, it’s getting stronger and stronger…”
“This is really what you want?” Ty finally asked.
What I really wanted was a white sand beach, a margarita, and a very naked, very committed Ty, but since that was out of the question, I nodded. “I want you to leave.” Sniffle. “Please.”
“Liar.”
His deep voice echoed in my head.
“I saw the beach, sugar.”
Damn the stupid telepathic link. I stiffened and gave him a defiant stare.
“So what if I’m still hot for your body? It doesn’t change the fact that I’m ready for a real relationship. I’ve had enough wild, meaningless sex in my life.”
“You’re swearing off sex then?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. But I want companionship in addition to the wild, meaningless sex.”
“Then it stops being meaningless.”
“Exactly. Now butt out of my business and my head. I’m busy right now.”
I steeled myself and pushed him out of my thoughts.
Physically, however, he didn’t budge. He simply stood there, towering over me, his gaze riveted on mine. “So you
really
like him?” he asked after a long, silent moment.
Okay, so
really
was pushing it, but there was some definite
like
when it came to Remy Tremaine. I nodded and his frown deepened.
“And you think he can make you happy?”
“I’m willing to give him a chance. I’m willing to give
us
a chance, which is more than I can say for you.”
I knew all the reasons why a relationship with Ty couldn’t work. At the same time, that small romantic part of me wanted to say to hell with everyone—Logan, my parents, the entire snotty, pretentious born-vamp race—and go for it anyway.
Even more, I wanted Ty to
want
to go for it, as well. To be so crazy over me that he couldn’t stand the thought of living an eternity without me. I wanted him to want to take the risk. To try. Even if we were doomed.
Crazy, I know, but there it was.
His gaze brightened and I had the distinct feeling he’d read some of the ridiculous thoughts racing through my head despite my mental barrier. I saw the push-pull of emotion in his gaze, but then his mouth drew tight and he turned away.
“Take care.” The words slipped past my lips. Lame, I know, but it was all I could think of at the moment.
My chest suddenly hurt and my throat felt tight as I watched him walk toward the door.
The creak of wood echoed in my head, followed by a soft
thunk
that sliced through the Marvin Gaye song and made me flinch.
I stepped forward with every intention of bolting the door. Instead, my hand closed around the doorknob and I fought down the sudden urge to haul open the stupid thing and go after him. To grab him by the arm and tell him the truth.
That, and throw him on the nearest horizontal surface.
But what was the point?
As great as we were together physically, it wasn’t going to happen. I knew it. He knew it.
It was time to accept it and move on.
Good riddance, I told myself. Now I could get on with my afterlife and stop wondering
what if.
I could actually give Remy a real shot and see what happened. Maybe he
was
the perfect born vamp for me and I’d just been carrying around too much Ty baggage to realize it. Maybe we would fall for each other and live eternally ever after in Fairfield and have tons of baby vamps and—
Bam! Bam! Bam!
The rap on the door shattered my train of thought—thankfully. We’re talking an eternity in
Fairfield.
Ugh.
I opened the door.
Ty stood there, his hands braced on either side of the doorjamb, his muscles tight, his face set in a distinct frown. His eyes glittered a hot, bright, knowing blue and I felt a funny niggle in the pit of my stomach. “I forgot something.”
His words pressed my panic button and my heart gave a frantic lurch. He’d figured it out. In the five seconds since he’d stormed out on me, he’d done the math and bingo—demon in the bedroom.
I tamped down the crazy thoughts and tried to sound nonchalant. “Oh, really? What?”
“This.” And then he leaned down and kissed me.
Twenty-one
I
t was the hottest, wildest, most passionate kiss of my afterlife.
And the shortest.
One minute Ty’s strong, purposeful mouth devoured mine, his tongue stroking and delving and leaving no secrets between us. And the next, I found myself staring at a dark, empty hallway. A door opened and closed at the far end. Footsteps sounded. The flutter of wings echoed the frantic beat of my own heart and then he was gone.
I blinked.
Huh?
I blinked again as my brain tried to process what he’d done and what I’d done and what it had meant and…
I shook my head, walked inside, and locked the door behind me. Marvin had faded into a slow rock ballad from Nickelback. I headed for the bedroom to take a quick peek.
The walls seemed to vibrate and as soon as I opened the door, I discovered why. My loyal assistant hovered a good ten feet in the air, her face plastered on the ceiling. She slammed her head into the Sheetrock in time to the drumbeat and bits of plaster rained down on my Egyptian cotton sheets.
I snatched the iPod from its docking station and the room went silent. The headbanging stopped and Evie fell back to the mattress. Her forehead was cut and bleeding, her face puffy and swollen, and my chest tightened.
Reality hit me and I forgot all about Ty and my crazy, mixed-up feelings for him. I gave the room another spritz of holy water and then went back to the living room.
I bypassed the Yellow Pages (can you say
grasping?
) and snatched up my cellphone. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew I wasn’t going to find an exorcist and get Evie out of this mess on my own. I needed reinforcements.
I scrolled through the numbers in my directory until I found what I was looking for, and then I hit
TALK
.
“You need a what?” Max’s incredulous voice thundered in my ear.
“An exorcist.”
“That’s what I thought you said. Shit,” he muttered. “I knew you were a fruitcake, but I never realized—”
“Not for me, dumbass. A close friend of mine is in trouble and I have to help her. Since I don’t actually know any exorcists, I called you.”
“What makes you think I know any exorcists?”
“You dated that nun one time. Surely she knows someone.”
“Terry wasn’t a nun. She was a secretary at St. Peter’s Catholic Girls’ School.”
“Nun…secretary…What’s the difference?”
“Let’s see…one has years of training and is ordained by God, and the other writes out detention slips for chewing gum and has wild sex with vampires.”
“Well, if you want to get picky about it.”
“It’s called being practical. You should try it sometime.”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“Why should I?”
“Because I’m your one and only sister.”
“You’re my one and only sister who narcs on me every time I turn around. You told Mom and Dad about that milkmaid. And the serving wench.”
“Because I’m a fine, upstanding member of society?”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Because if you don’t help me, I’ll tell Mom and Dad about your ongoing bump and grind with a certain werewolf neighbor.”
“How do you know about Viola?” he asked, his voice suddenly sharp.
I smiled. “Lucky guess.”
“Shit.”
“Come on, it’s not like it took a genius. I’ve seen the way you look at her and I’ve seen the way she looks at you and, well, to be honest, I would be more surprised if something wasn’t going on. She’s a beautiful woman.”
“And smart,” he added. “I can actually talk to her.”
Since when did talking figure in with my brother? With any born male
vampere
for that matter?
“So that’s what you and Internet bimbo were doing during the last hunt. And here I figured her for more of a moaner than a talker.”
“Very funny.” His voice grew quiet. “She was just a diversion.”
“To keep your mind off Viola?”
“To keep Mom and Dad’s minds off Viola. We don’t want them to know what’s going on yet.”
“Yet? Are you trying to tell me that you two are—”
“Drop it, okay?” he cut in. “It’s just sex.”
And
talking. And sex plus talking equaled serious business. That’s what I wanted to say, but Max’s sudden silence—as if he was still trying to wrap his head around the notion of actually falling for a woman—kept me from pushing.
What can I say? I’m a sucker for love.
“So what about it?” I prodded, shifting the subject back to yours truly. “Can you hook me up with an exorcist? Preferably one who offers cleanup services afterward. My apartment is such a mess.”
“You really are a fruitcake.”
What? You can’t blame a girl for trying.
“So forget the cleanup service. Just find me someone. Anyone.”
“I guess I could give Terry a call and see if she has any connections at the church. Maybe a friend of a friend of a friend. It might take a while, though. A few days maybe.”
“I really need someone sooner than that.”
“How soon?”
“A few hours.” He let loose a few cuss words illustrating how impossible that was going to be and what a major nut job I really was and how I’d obviously been switched with his real sister at birth.
“Of course, if you can’t,” I interrupted when he launched into a very vivid description of how I’d most certainly been conceived via some weird science experiment that had gone crazily wrong, “I’ll totally understand. I know I’m asking a lot. Imagine me expecting you to lie to our parents for pretty much the rest of your existence and conceal the fact that I’m having an illicit affair with Dad’s arch enemy…No, wait.
You’re
the one who’s asking
me
to lie for the rest of
my
existence. I’m just asking for a measly exorcist.”
“If you weren’t my sister, I’d rip you into so many pieces your own mother wouldn’t recognize you.”
Promises, promises.
“Two hours.” A pleading note crept into my voice. “Please, Max. I really need your help.”
“Give me three,” he finally muttered, and then he hung up.
My curiosity (and my survival instincts) got the best of me, and I punched in Vinnie’s number.
“Yo. It’s Vinnie. Leave a message.”
Beeeep.
“Hi Vinnie! It’s Lil. Lil Marchette. The vampire who’s doing everything in her power to make your dating experience as fruitful and as satisfying as possible. The vampire who’s also doing everything in her power to please your mother. Speaking of mothers, did you show Carmen any pics of Mama Balducci? Did you mention the birthday party? The upcoming wedding and the eight possible kids? Call me.”
I killed the phone and spent the next thirty seconds wondering if my fangs were going to end up on eBay.
Maybe.
Probably.
My stomach churned and my chest tightened and I gave myself a great big mental bitch-slap.
Sure, Vinnie wasn’t perfect. But he had made
some
progress. He’d actually cleaned any and all body parts out of the trunk of his car. No bones hanging from the rearview mirror. No femur gear shift. No kill sheet taped to the dash. That had to count for something.
And if it didn’t, well, at least I wouldn’t have to worry over a demon head-banging in my bedroom. If Vinnie staked me, I’d have my own soul to worry about.
So much for making myself feel better.
I forced aside the negativity and spent the next five minutes checking my cell messages.
Nina One called to let me know that Rob had given her complete carte blanche—and his Visa gold card—to redecorate his apartment in Jersey. He was officially the sweetest, kindest, most virile born vampire to ever terrorize the earth. To think Nina had known him most of her entire life and had never realized it.