The Undead Next Door (21 page)

“How considerate of you.” She gave him a dubious look. “How many vampires have I met?”

“Robby, Ian, and Phineas. Simone and Inga. Angus MacKay and Emma.”

“Emma?” Heather looked aghast. “I let a vampire watch my baby?”

“We’re the best equipped for fighting Lui, since he’s a vampire, too.”

“And Phil and Pierre?”

“Mortal. We have to rely on mortals to protect us during the day because we’re…unavailable.”

She raised her brows. “Unavailable? You showed up three hours after Pierre’s death. That was just rude!”

“I hate being separated from you during the day. I hate that I’m not there to protect you or comfort you. But I can’t help it. I’m…dead.”

She blinked. “You mean really…dead?”

With a sigh, he sat on the bed. “Completely dead. It’s very…annoying, but it’s only during the day.”

“Right.” She narrowed her eyes. “I guess you have fangs?”

He touched a pointed tooth. “They’re not extended now. I’m in complete control. You’re entirely safe.”

She scoffed. “Safe? Those things are weapons. Oh sheesh. You had your…mouth all over me.”

“I knew what I was doing. And you liked it.”

She marched up to him and slapped him on the face.

He winced. “Why so angry, chérie? I’ve told you the truth.”

“Now you tell me.” She paced in front of him. “There are certain things you’re supposed to say before sex. Stuff like, ‘By the way, sweetheart, I have herpes.’ Or here’s a good one—‘Guess what? You’re about to screw a dead man!’”

He stood. “I am not dead!”

“Give it a few hours! You will be.”

“Does a dead man look like this?” He pushed his trousers down to reveal his bulging cotton briefs. He was no longer fully erect, but he was certainly swollen enough to be noticed. And she did notice. Her eyes widened, then quickly looked away.

“A dead guy who’s stiff,” she muttered. “Go figure.”

“I’m not dead.” He stepped toward her. “Did my lips feel dead when I kissed your breasts and sucked your clit?”

She flinched. “Don’t—”

“Have you already forgotten how you squirmed and screamed in my arms? You gushed all over me.” He licked his lips. “I can still taste you.”

She covered her face briefly. “I haven’t forgotten. That’s why this is so damned hard. I—I thought you were perfect. I thought I was falling in love.”

“You are. I know you love me.”

“No! I can’t…handle this right now. It’s too much.” She ran to the door and wrenched it open.

“Heather.” He zipped up his pants and dashed into the hallway. She was halfway to the cellar door. “Heather, don’t leave the building. It’s too dangerous outside.”

She stopped and glanced back at him with an incredulous look. “It’s dangerous inside. I’m living with a bunch of freaking vampires!”

“We’re good Vamps.” He walked toward her. “We would never hurt you. We have sworn to protect you. Please, promise me you won’t leave.”

She gave him a wry look. “I promise. Believe me, I’m trying very hard not to do anything foolish.” She turned and strode to the cellar door.

Jean-Luc sighed with relief. She understood that leaving the house would be foolish. Unfortunately, she was also implying that a relationship with him was foolish.

He would just have to change her mind. Somehow, he’d win her back. He’d show her he could be trusted. He’d prove to her that their love was not foolish.

Heather dashed up the stairs to the ground floor. Vampires? How could that be? But why would Jean-Luc lie about something so awful? I know you love me. His words pricked at her. No! She couldn’t love a vampire. Vampires were monsters who preyed on the innocent to survive.

She slammed the cellar door behind her and strode down the hallway. Vampires. In Texas. Maybe she should call Immigration. She rushed past the doors to the design studio. Good Lord, her boss was a vampire. And fantastic in bed. She winced and tried to erase that last thought.

I know you love me.

Dammit, she was not going to fall in love with a blood-sucking fiend. A line from an old movie came back to torment her. It required a few sniffles and a thick country accent. I always fall for the wrong kind of man.

Yep, that was her. She’d gone from a control-freak husband to a vampire lover. At least a vampire couldn’t control her during the day. He was dead. A giggle escaped her mouth. Good Lord, she was losing her mind.

She halted halfway across the showroom when the door to the security office swung open.

Robby exited and gave her a worried look. “Are ye all right, lass?”

Vampire. She stepped back.

He frowned. “Doona be afraid.”

Right. He was just a huge, hulking vampire with a sword on his back, a knife in his sock, and fangs in his mouth. She turned and ran up the grand staircase. As she crossed the catwalk, she noticed him standing in the showroom, watching her.

Dammit, she was not going to be afraid. She was at war with fear. She slipped inside her bedroom.

“I have a pistol pointed at your ass,” Fidelia’s voice whispered in the dark.

“It’s me.” Heather locked the door. “We need to talk. Keep your gun handy.”

“I don’t have my guns in bed. I was just bluffing.”

“Get them.” Heather fumbled across the room to the bathroom. “And come in here. I don’t want to wake Bethany.”

A minute later, Fidelia waddled into the room, her purse clutched to her chest.

Heather shut the bathroom door and turned on the light. “We’re in big danger.”

“I thought so.” Fidelia dropped her heavy purse on the marble vanity. Her hair shot out in different directions, and her voluminous hot-pink nightshirt boasted the words Hot Stuff. “The cards have been warning me.”

Heather perched on the edge of the bathtub. An unfortunate memory flashed in her mind. Jean-Luc’s bathtub had been incredible. And there was room in there for two. She shook the thought away. “I snuck into the cellar to find out what they were hiding.”

“Uh-huh.” Fidelia lowered the toilet lid, then sat on it. “Was the sex good?”

Heather’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“I’m psychic.” Fidelia pointed at her. “And your shirt’s on wrong side out.”

Heather glanced down, and heat flooded her face. She quickly changed the subject. “I discovered something important. I was right about Jean-Luc being centuries old. He was born in 1485.”

Fidelia nodded her head slowly. “That explains a lot. That’s a lot of experience. He must have been good in bed.”

Heather scoffed. “That is quite beside the point.”

“So he was good?”

“Fidelia, his eyes turned red. They were glowing.”

Her face paled. “Santa Maria.” She crossed herself quickly. “Did you see the white gnashing teeth?”

“No, but he has them. He’s a vampire. They’re all vampires. Except Phil. And poor Pierre. Even Louie is a vampire.”

Fidelia’s brown eyes widened. “Are you sure? Did Juan-Luc confess?”

“Yes.”

She pressed her hands together, close to her mouth, whispered a prayer in Spanish, then crossed herself again. “I have always sensed there were…others, but I never—” She stiffened. “Did he bite you?”

“No. I never saw his fangs come out.” Heather grimaced at the thought of ugly canines jutting from Jean-Luc’s beautiful mouth.

Fidelia leaned forward to examine her neck. “You have no marks.”

“He didn’t bite me,” Heather insisted. “He said he was in complete control.”

“Control, yes.” Fidelia sat back, frowning. “I have heard they would be very good at mind control. He could bite you and then wipe it from your memory.”

“I don’t think so. Jean-Luc said he doesn’t allow any biting in his house. They all drink blood from bottles.”

“Really?” Fidelia’s dark brows lifted. “Then none of these vampires attacked you?”

“No.”

“Juan-Luc didn’t use mind control to force you to do things against your will?”

Heather shook her head, feeling her cheeks grow warm. He’d made her scream, but she’d done that willingly enough. “I don’t think he was controlling me. I was sorta out of control. I yelled at him and slapped him.”

“Did he yell back?”

“No.” Heather shifted her weight on the edge of the tub. “He asked me not to leave the house. He’s…worried about our safety.”

Fidelia took a deep breath. “Let me get this straight. He didn’t attack you or bite you or control you at all?”

“No.”

“Then why were you yelling and slapping him?”

“Because they’re vampires. Isn’t that reason enough?”

Fidelia shrugged. “As far as I can tell, they’ve tried very hard to make us comfortable, and they’re serious about keeping us safe. They lost one of their own today.”

“Pierre was mortal.”

“He was their comrade, and they were upset by his death. It could have happened to any of them. Or to us. We’re all in danger.”

Heather sighed. “So you think we should stay here? Unite with these…vampires against the common enemy?”

“Louie’s a vampire, no? I say our best protection is more vampires. We should definitely stay here.”

Heather nodded. “I agree. But as soon as they kill Louie, we’re leaving.”

“And what about Juan-Luc? You like him, no?”

“I can’t date a man who has survived for centuries by biting women and sucking their blood.”

“I bet he gives one hell of a hickey.”

“Fidelia! The man is a monster.”

She reached for her purse. “You want me to shoot him? I’ll kill him tonight.”

“No!” Heather jumped to her feet.

Fidelia gave her a knowing look. “You failed that test, chica.”

Heather gritted her teeth. “It’s not what you think.”

“That he’s very good in bed?”

She sat with a huff. “It has nothing to do with attraction. I simply abhor violence in general.”

“You slapped him.”

“I was upset. And I feel kinda bad about it now.”

Fidelia leaned forward on her elbows. “When did he confess? Before or after the sex?”

“After.” Heather rubbed her brow. She was getting a headache.

“Ah. So that is why you slapped him. The bastard. He took his pleasure from you and satisfied his own needs before telling you the truth.”

A dull pain throbbed at Heather’s temple. “Actually, he never got—I mean, he spent the whole time pleasuring me.”

“Oh!” Fidelia’s eyes lit up. “That Juan-Luc. He is muy macho.”

Heather sighed. She’d had the biggest orgasm ever. Not that she ever intended to think about it again.

“So he never tried to bite you, and he didn’t seek his own pleasure.” Fidelia tilted her head, considering. “Then why did he take you to bed?”

Heather swallowed hard. “He said he loves me.”

“Ah. Amor.”

Heather slumped. “He said he’d waited five hundred years for me.”

“Mmm. Romantico.”

“But he’s a vampire.”

Fidelia shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect. My second husband—he had six toes on one foot.”

“This is a little more serious than that. Jean-Luc is literally dead half the time.”

Fidelia nodded. “For most men, that would be an improvement.”

“I’m serious! I have to stay away from him. I want a normal life for me and Bethany. We’ll live here for the moment, but I’m going to avoid him at all costs.”

“All right,” Fidelia agreed. “You must never talk to him, even if he is muy romantico. And you must try not to think about how good the sex was. It was really good, wasn’t it?”

“You’re not helping. Whose side are you on?”

Fidelia patted her knee. “I’m on the side of your heart, chica. Your heart will tell you what to do if you listen.”

Heather groaned as another jab of pain targeted her temple. This was not the advice she wanted to hear. For when it came to her heart, she feared it was already lost.

After tossing and turning with too many sexy memories replaying in her sore head, Heather gave up on sleep. She took a long hot shower, dressed, and headed down the stairs to the studio by five A.M. As she neared the security office, the door opened.

“Good morning, lass,” Robby greeted her.

She mumbled a greeting and hurried past him. If she could just immerse herself in the work she loved, she might be able to forget all the vampires lurking about. They probably all knew by now that their secret was out.

“Hey! Wait up, dudette!”

She glanced back. Great. The one named Phineas was following her. She kept walking.

“Whassup?” He caught up with her.

“Nothing.” She stopped in front of the studio doors and punched fourteen eighty-five into the keypad. “I just want to work.”

“That’s cool. Don’t mind me. I’m just hanging out.”

“Like a bat?” she muttered as she entered the studio.

“More like your own personal bodyguard.” He closed the door behind her. “We want to keep you safe.”

“Somehow I’d feel a lot safer without a vampire following me.”

Phineas stopped with an injured look. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

Had she actually hurt his feelings? “You’ve never bitten anyone before?”

He winced. “I ain’t perfect, but I’ve worked real hard to control myself. I know I was a bum before. Hell, I was a real loser when I was alive, but Angus believes in me, and I ain’t gonna let him down.”

She proceeded to the worktable to organize her supplies. “Are you saying your life is better now that you’re dead?”

“I ain’t dead. At least not right now. And yeah, my life is better. This is my first real job, and I’m doing real good. I’m sending money home to my family. And I’m learning how to fence and do martial arts. You wanna see?”

Before she could say no, Phineas spun around to face the cluster of mannequins in the center of the room.

“Hai-ya!” He assumed an attack pose. “You’re going down, sucker!”

He grabbed a male mannequin by the arm, twisted, and bent over at the waist. Heather assumed the mannequin was supposed to fly over his shoulder and crash on the floor, but unfortunately, the arm simply came off.

Phineas looked surprised for only a second, then he tossed the arm on the floor. “Yeah, I whupped your ass.” He pranced back, holding up his dukes. “You won’t be messing with me, sucker! I’ll turn you into the one-armed man!”

A grin tugged at Heather’s mouth, and she turned away. The last thing she wanted was to remember how much she actually liked these guys. She wandered toward the dress form where she’d draped the finished parts of the first gown. There was a note stabbed to the form with a sewing pin. She glanced over the black cursive script to read the signature at the bottom.

Jean-Luc. Her heart lurched. She removed the note.

An excellent start on your first gown. The show will take place as planned, a week from this Saturday. Attendance will be restricted. I wish you well with your designs, but my first priority is your safety.

That was it. Polite and businesslike. She was almost disappointed. He could have written something like, Sorry I’m a vampire, or I’d rather die again than ever bite you. But no, he didn’t even mention his role as a blood-sucking fiend. And he didn’t write anything romantic, either.

She crumpled up the note and dropped it in the trash bin. It was better this way. He was her boss, nothing more. As soon as Louie was dead, she was outta here. She settled down at the sewing machine to finish the skirt.

Phineas perched on the worktable. “Robby thinks you’re afraid of him. That’s why he sent me to guard you.”

“I’m not afraid.” Just totally freaked. She stepped on the foot pedal to start the machine.

“It takes time to get used to us. Man, I was totally freaked when I first found out I was a vampire.”

Heather stopped sewing. Had he read her mind? More likely, totally freaked was just the universal reaction to vampires. “How long have you been…like this?”

“Just over a year.” Phineas described his transformation at the hands, or teeth, of some evil vampire dudes, and how Angus had saved him.

“The evil ones still feed on people?” Heather asked.

“Yeah. They even kill people. We hate them.” Phineas puffed out his chest. “We’re the good guys.”

“So there are good vampires and bad ones?”

“Yeah. How does Connor say it? Death doesn’t change a man’s heart. So a bad dude’s gonna stay bad, you see.”

“And a good man stays good?” Like Jean-Luc. She’d always felt he was a good man. A wonderful man. I know you love me. His words haunted her.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Phineas launched into a long story about a really bad dude named Casimir.

Heather returned to her sewing, but found herself drawn into the story and asking questions. Apparently the two factions were called Vamps and Malcontents, and they were on the verge of an all-out war. Angus MacKay had been the Vamp general in the Great Vampire War of 1710.

“Did Jean-Luc fight in the war?” she asked.

“Hell, yeah. He was second in command. Connor told me Jean-Luc never left Roman’s side. He took some major cuts to keep Roman safe.”

He was a loyal friend, a hero among his own kind. But his world was totally beyond hers. It was a dangerous world, too. Not a good place for her and Bethany. She tried not to think about him. “Who’s Connor?”

“Roman’s head bodyguard. I’m usually assigned to Roman’s house, but Connor insisted on hiding them.”

“They’re in danger?” Heather recalled meeting Roman briefly. His wife had been very friendly and—Heather stopped sewing with a gasp. “They have a child!”

“Yeah. Roman’s like a scientific genius, you know. He makes the synthetic blood we drink. And when Shanna wanted a baby, he figured out a way to make the baby his.”