Just One Bite (27 page)

“You’re a marshmallow,” Ash said. “You’re too nice.”

“I am not.” Killer sniffed and blinked at me and I realized I’d forgotten a few sprinkles of Tuna Sparkle. I grabbed the seasoning, topped off his dinner, and he started to eat. “I’m as mean as Brad Pitt is sexy.”

I could picture his smile as he said, “Just calling ’em like I see ’em.”

“You can’t see me right now.” I glanced around my kitchen, my senses instantly alert. “Can you?” While I’d learned a little about the various Others out there (particularly werewolves, who had great taste and liked to hump during the full moon), I was still learning as far as demons went. “What am I wearing?”

“Let’s see…outfit, shoes, thong.”

“What color is the thong?”

“Pink.”

Panic bolted through me followed by a rush of
nahhhhh.
“How do you know that?”

“Lucky guess.”

A girl could only hope.

Even so, I pulled my shoulders back and did my sexiest walk as I headed for the living room and my overstuffed sofa. “Maybe the demon body hopped after Evie, which would mean she’s no longer possessed and you’re looking for the wrong person.”

“Then where is she?”

“Good question.” One I wasn’t about to answer.

“If you know something, you have to tell me,” Ash said as if reading my thoughts.

I tamped down my nerves and chose my words carefully. “Well, I know she hasn’t shown up to work in the past few days.” It wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t shown up for work. My overflowing answering machine could testify to that. “I’ve called her at home, but she’s not there.” Because she was here. “Maybe she skipped town. That’s what I would do if I were possessed by a demon.” Unless I was confined by holy water in my fantabulously dressed employer’s bedroom. “I’d take the first plane and head for Cancún.”

“Demons don’t do warm climates too well. Reminds them too much of what they’re trying to escape.”

“Then maybe she hopped a plane for the Poconos. Or Antarctica. How do I know? I’m a matchmaker, not a bounty hunter.” And speaking of bounty hunters—“Say, have you talked to Ty by any chance?”

“About what?”

Me. The kiss. Us. Me. “Um, nothing.” It was crazy to even think that Ty would talk to Ash about his personal life. What were we? In high school? Then again, I was all but bursting at my designer seams to talk to someone, so there was always the chance that he might be just as anxious. “It’s just that I ran into him, and he mentioned that he was helping you guys on this and I just thought you might have talked to him recently and he might have mentioned that he talked to me.” And that maybe, just maybe he’s desperately in love with me and doesn’t know what to do.

“He said you were a stubborn pain-in-the-ass and that you were driving him crazy.”

“Crazy in a good way, or crazy in a bad way?”

“The why-don’t-I-just-get-it-over-with-and-shove-a-stake-into-myself way.”

“Oh.” Well. Whatever.

“He’s helping us follow up leads from the sighting at Times Square,” he went on, as if I’d just reminded him about something. “Look, I’ve gotta go. I’m meeting with the employees at that dyke club in a few minutes.”

I had a quick vision of the bartender and remembered that I hadn’t glammed her with a quick
I wasn’t here and I wasn’t asking questions about Evie and I surely didn’t hunt her down or drag her back to my place and please, please, please don’t mention me to anyone, especially a hunky trio of demon brothers.

Uh-oh.

At the same time, according to Ty, they already knew I’d been to the club with Evie. They just hadn’t figured out that Evie wasn’t exactly Evie at the time.

Yet.

My heart catapulted as Ash’s voice rumbled through my head.

“If you see her, call me immediately. I’m going to talk to a few of her relatives tomorrow to see if they’ve heard from her and then I’m headed over to talk to her neighbors.”

And then he would most likely put two and two together and come knocking on my door.

But not until tomorrow. And by then, all of this would be over. I would meet with Father Duke, we would do a little demon-busting, and bam—problem solved.

I held tight to the hope and spent the next fifteen minutes going over the prep list Father Bryce had given me. I packed a bag of needed items, made a note of what I still had to pick up at the store, checked on Evie again and dodged a loogie, and gave Killer, the glutton, a few more sardines sprinkled with Tuna Sparkle.

By the time I collapsed on the couch, I was more than ready to close my eyes and get some much-needed sleep. My body felt tired, drained. Unfortunately, my mind wasn’t as wiped out.

Between the possibility that Ash would catch on sooner rather than later, my worry over the upcoming exorcism, and my
what-the-fuck-is-up-with-that?
thoughts about Ty and his kiss, I spent the majority of the day tossing and turning and growing more anxious by the minute.

By the time I finally pushed to my feet and downed my breakfast (warm O positive with a chaser shot of AB negative), I was a bundle of nerves. I’d come to the conclusion that my afterlife really and truly sucked (and I don’t mean in a good way).

I know, right? The vein-is-always-half-full
me.

Anyhow, I tried to counter the negative thoughts with a distraction—I fed Killer and looked over the exorcism prep list and even watched
The Tyra Banks Show.

But when I found myself watching Tyra interview some actor from one of the daytime soaps who happened to have long dark hair and very blue eyes, I started thinking about Ty and the kiss and…well, so much for distracting myself.

Enter denial.

Crappy life? I most certainly did NOT have a crappy life. I was a hot, happening vampire with a successful dating service and really great hair.

And a demon trapped in the next room,
a voice reminded me. And feelings for a made vampire who obviously didn’t feel the same. And a nagging mother. And a date with a made vampire who obviously liked me more than I liked him. And a minuscule wardrobe that consisted of—count ’em—two outfits and a shopping bag full of perfume samples.

Okay, so I had a crappy afterlife. But things were going to get better.

At least that’s what I was telling myself. I just wasn’t so sure I believed it anymore.

“What do you mean he’s not coming?” I asked Father Bryce at exactly 7:00 p.m. when I slid into a booth across from him at the coffee shop that night.

Melba was off duty. Thankfully. I was being stood up for real this time, and if she’d been there with her knowing looks and her
poor thing
expression, I would have burst into tears. Guaranteed.

I blinked frantically and tried to calm my frantic heart. “But he has to come,” I rushed on. “I’ve got everything ready.”

Vinnie and Carmen were having dinner with her folks tonight—her idea, not his—and so I’d offered Crusher a discount if he would pick me and Evie up at my apartment, no questions asked. He’d agreed (we’re talking twenty percent and a Starbucks gift card) to drive us to Jersey, wait outside during the exorcism, and get us back to the city (
sans
demon) before daybreak. He now sat behind the wheel of an old dark blue sedan that idled at the curb.

Across the street at the church, the choir had just finished up practice. The sound of an organ and the closing notes of “All Hail the King” filtered through the voices in the diner and slid into my super vamp ears.

“I followed the pre-exorcism instructions to a T,” I went on. “Evie is hog-tied in the trunk of the car and I’m wearing the mandatory crucifix.” I held up the tiny gold symbol (do NOT tell my mother). I’d even worn all purple—a plain jogging suit I’d picked up on my way out of the city because I
so
wasn’t screwing up the only two outfits I had by letting them get slimed. The color was symbolic of the stole Father Duke would use to calm the demon during the exorcism.

I was stoked.

And now it was off.

“The kid who threw up on him last night has the flu and passed it on to Father Duke,” Father Bryce explained. “He’s really sick. He usually joins in on the choir.” He indicated the church across the street. The organ had stopped and people were now filtering out of the massive double doors. “But he couldn’t even get out of bed.”

“What about antibiotics? Surely there’s something he can take to get back on his feet.”

“Flu is viral. There are no antibiotics.”

“Vitamins?”

“They won’t work in time.”

“Energy drink?”

He shook his head. “It’s not going to happen tonight. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is. He’s got a very high temperature.”

“Yeah, but he’s still alive, right?” I know I sounded cold and unfeeling, but I had my best friend trussed up in the trunk and a crew of demons dogging me. I was D-E-S-P-E-R-A-T-E.

“He’ll be happy to help you next week.” Father Bryce pulled out his black scheduling book. “Maybe next Friday?”

“I can’t wait until next Friday. I need him tonight.” I remembered Ash’s phone call and my chest hitched. He could very well be on his way to my place right now. And if he saw the shambles that had once been my bedroom…
“Now.”

Father Bryce shook his head. “I’m sorry. An exorcist must be strong and healthy during the ritual. Otherwise, it’s a sure disaster.”

“Can’t you do it?” I swept a gaze from his black loafers to the top of his gelled hair. “You’re young, but you’re still a priest, right?”

“I don’t know the Latin.”

“So do it in English.”

“It might not be as effective. Besides, I work for Father Duke.” He shook his head. “I can’t defy his wishes. The last time I went against his orders, he got very upset.”

“Did he take away your PlayStation?”

He shook his head. “My Xbox.”

“That was a joke.”

“Oh.” He scribbled something in his notebook. “I’m penciling you in for the following Friday. Just keep your friend contained with the holy water and we’ll see you here next week.”

But I didn’t have that much time. I knew that as surely as I knew the sun would set and my mother would nag me about Remy and Britney Spears would wind up on the cover of yet another tabloid.

I watched Father Bryce push to his feet and leave the diner. He crossed the street and headed for the church rectory. From the corner of my eye, I caught movement and shifted my gaze to the actual sanctuary. The doors had opened again and a group of choir members herded outside. I recognized one of them and Vinnie’s voice echoed in my head.

“The woman’s a saint, I tell you. A bona fide saint.”

An idea struck—a crazy, out-there idea that probably wouldn’t work—but I grasped at it anyway for lack of anything better. I summoned a smile.

If I couldn’t find a priest, I’d just have to settle for the next best thing.

“Mama Balducci?” I caught the woman just before she turned the side of the building to head for the fellowship area.

“Yes, dear?” Her gaze met mine and recognition lit. “Oh. It’s you.”

The vampire.

The truth blazed in her eyes and I felt a moment’s hesitation. I wasn’t used to having humans aware of my identity, and it sort of freaked me out (and made me feel massive amounts of guilt because I was breaking the number one BV commandment—Thou Shalt Keep a Low Profile).

Then again, it wasn’t my fault that she knew. She had a direct link Upstairs, and so any information leaks belonged to someone a lot more powerful than
moi.

I summoned my courage. “A friend of mine is in trouble and I really need your help. Can I please talk to you?” I shifted my gaze to the three old women who’d stopped to wait for her. “In private?” I was out of the closet with Teresa Balducci, but that didn’t mean I was flaunting it for the whole geriatric gang.

She stared at me a long moment before directing her attention to the women. “You ladies go on and have some coffee cake. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Is she pregnant?” Mama asked after the women had disappeared through a nearby door. “I volunteer at the local shelter for unwed mothers and I would be happy to counsel her.”

I shook my head. “She’s not PG.”

Her face took on a worried light. “Drugs?”

Another shake.

Her frown deepened. “Prostitution?”

“Possession.” There. I’d said it.

Before I had a chance to wonder whether or not she even bought into the big P concept, Mama B arched an eyebrow. “How possessed?”

I motioned her across the street to the blue sedan.

She adjusted her glasses as we started across the pavement. “Is that my son behind the wheel?”

“He’s helping me out in exchange for a discount. I’m finding him a date for the Christmas party.”

“Hey, Ma. How’s it hanging?” Crusher gave her a little wave before going back to polishing a large, menacing handgun.

“Don’t worry,” I told her when she frowned. “I’ll make sure he gets the body parts out of the glove box before the actual date.”

She flashed a relieved smile and followed me around to the trunk.

I slapped the end of the car. “Pop it,” I told Crusher. The lid gave a click and a gasp and then lifted. I motioned to Evie, who looked like a cross between Linda Blair and a trussed-up turkey.

“I need an exorcism,” I went on as Mama adjusted her bifocals and peered at Evie, who had green foam oozing out from beneath the scarf tied around her mouth. “I was going to get one tonight, but the priest who was supposed to perform it got sick.”

“Father Duke.” She nodded. “He does all the black-market exorcisms in Newark.”

“Since vamps aren’t the most popular among the clergy, I can’t go through the church and my time is running out. You’re such a devout woman, I thought you might know someone who could help me.”

She eyed Evie a moment longer before turning to me. “You’re looking at her. Not that I’ve done an exorcism all by myself, but I’ve assisted Father Duke many times doing backup prayer whenever he gets tired and needs a break.”

Hope blossomed and ballooned in my chest. “Really?”