The Undead Next Door (6 page)

Fidelia revealed the sixth card. “The Moon.” She gave him an odd look.

Jean-Luc swallowed. “Something to do with hunting?”

“No. It means deception.” Fidelia glanced at Heather. “It could also mean something supernatural.”

Heather’s eyes widened.

He sat forward. “Do not be swayed by superstition. I have sworn to protect you, and I will.”

“I want to believe you. I’m just not sure I can.” Her eyes searched his, and he tried to pour all his concern and admiration for her into his gaze. She didn’t look away. A spark of hope ignited inside him. He wanted her trust, her friendship, her respect. He wanted everything she could give him.

“Time for the last card,” Fidelia announced. “This one is very important, for it signifies the outcome of our current dilemma.” She reached for the card.

The doorbell rang.

Heather jumped to her feet.

Fidelia reached for her purse. “Who would come at this time of night?”

Jean-Luc strode into the foyer with the women following close behind. He heard Angus on the front porch, sending a psychic message to his wife. “It’s not Lui. He would never bother to ring the bell.”

Heather flipped on the porch light and peered through a pane of leaded glass in the door.

“It’s all right,” Jean-Luc assured her. “I think it’s Angus. Allow me.” He opened the door.

Angus slipped inside and nodded at her. “Good evening, lass. How is everything here?”

Heather shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I didn’t expect Jean-Luc to show up.”

Angus frowned. “He had no choice. ’Tis a matter of honor.” His face brightened when his wife skipped merrily down the stairs. “There ye are.”

Emma grinned and walked straight into his arms. “Miss me already?”

“Aye.” Angus hugged her tight.

Jean-Luc groaned inwardly. Angus was so easily distracted these days. “Is there any news to report?”

“Nay.” Angus rested his chin against Emma’s brow. “Robby and I looked all over town. There’s no sign of Lui.”

Frustration gnawed at Jean-Luc. He desperately wanted to hunt for Lui, but he couldn’t ignore his duty to guard Heather. “We need more men.”

“I’m going to New York to arrange for more guards,” Angus assured him.

Jean-Luc nodded. Roman and Gregori had already teleported back to New York, taking Shanna and the baby with them.

Angus turned to Heather. “We’ll bring someone here to help you during the day, too.”

Her eyes widened. “Is all this really necessary?”

“Yes,” Jean-Luc answered at the same time Angus said, “Aye.”

Angus opened the door. “I’d like a moment alone with my wife before I go. Good night.” He led Emma onto the front porch.

She glanced back at Heather, smiling. “I’ll be back in just a moment.” The front door shut.

There was an awkward pause while the others waited in the foyer, then some sounds drifted through the closed door—a squeal from Emma, followed by masculine chuckling and feminine giggling.

Jean-Luc sighed. “Newlyweds.”

Heather nodded. “That much cheerfulness can really get annoying.”

“Oui.” Jean-Luc crossed his arms. “Especially when it is not possible for the rest of us.”

Fidelia snorted. “You two are so depressing, you’re driving me to drink.” She headed for the kitchen. “Anyone else want a beer?”

“No thanks.” Heather watched the kitchen door swing, then slanted a curious glance toward Jean-Luc. “You sound almost…envious of Angus and Emma.”

“What man would not wish to be loved with a passion as great as theirs?”

“Some might find that kind of passion too confining.”

“Only if love was used to imprison them.” Jean-Luc watched her closely. “Is that what happened to you?”

She shrugged and looked away, but he could sense that was a yes.

He stepped toward her. “I think love should make you feel more powerful and strong, more free and capable of achieving whatever you desire.”

Her gaze met his. “A love like that is very rare.”

“Do you have that kind of love with your daughter?”

Her eyes widened, then glimmered with moisture. “Yes. I do.”

“Then it is possible for you.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Why do you think it’s not possible for you?”

“I never wanted to expose a woman to Lui’s deadly vengeance.” Even with Lui gone, there would still be the problem of his being undead. But Roman and Angus had worked around that problem. Maybe he could, too. “It would be difficult to find a woman who could love me as I am.”

Heather’s mouth quirked. “Are you that hard to get along with? Let me guess. You snore like a buffalo stampede.”

“No. I’m actually rather quiet in my sleep.”

“You don’t stay up all night polishing your fencing trophies?”

He grinned. “No.”

She spread her hands in exasperation. “I give up. I can’t tell what’s wrong with you.”

He stepped closer. “Then you are ready to admit that you like me.”

Her cheeks blossomed a pretty pink, and the sweet scent of Type AB blood wafted toward him. She lifted her chin. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

He smiled slowly. “An unfortunate by-product of my arrogance.”

Her mouth curled with a reluctant smile. “I’m having trouble disliking you.”

“Give it time. You’ll come around.”

She laughed, and the happy sound filled his heart with warm joy. He hadn’t enjoyed a woman’s company this much in years. Hundreds of years. He realized with a jolt that Heather was a rare woman. Her quick mind was a delightful challenge. Not only was she beautiful and intelligent, but she possessed a courageous and caring heart. She’d come to his rescue tonight when she hardly knew him. And even though he owed her, she refused to take advantage. There was an old-fashioned nobility about her that touched his soul.

The phone rang, and she jumped.

“Good Lord, who would call this late? It’s just after midnight.” She dashed into the living room and grabbed the phone from the small table next to the wingback chair. “Hello?”

With his superior senses, Jean-Luc could hear an angry masculine voice on the phone. He hovered by the room’s entrance, close enough that he could eavesdrop, but far enough away to look like he wasn’t.

Heather’s shoulders tensed. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, it’s real late for you to have a boyfriend over,” the masculine voice sneered. “Why don’t you wait till the weekend when I have Bethany? I don’t want her exposed to the lowlifes you sleep with.”

Jean-Luc sucked in a deep breath. This had to be Heather’s ex-husband.

“I have several out-of-town guests spending the night,” Heather gritted out. “And it’s none of your damned business.” She slammed the phone down. “God, I hate Thelma.”

“Who is she?” Jean-Luc asked.

“My next-door neighbor. She’s best friends with Cody’s mother, and she spies on me. She calls Cody’s mother, who calls Cody—”

“And he calls you,” Jean-Luc finished the sentence. He wished this Cody would show up in person. The bastard needed to learn how to respect women.

“I’d better check on Bethany.” Heather rushed from the room. “The phone might have woken her up.” She jogged up the stairs.

Jean-Luc moved to the base of the stairs so he could admire her swaying hips.

Fidelia swooshed through the kitchen door with a beer bottle in her hand. “Enjoying the view?” She chuckled as she headed for the stairs. “Ay, caramba, but you are muy macho. I am glad you are here, Juan.”

“It is my pleasure.” He wondered if the older woman had been eavesdropping. Probably.

“Good night.” Fidelia started up the stairs.

She must have forgotten about the tarot card left from her reading. “Good night.” Jean-Luc wandered back into the living room.

The last card remained facedown on the coffee table. Supposedly this was the card that foretold the outcome of their dilemma. He reached down and flipped it over.

He jerked his hand away as if it’d been burned with silver. A skeleton rode a horse.

Death.

“Come on, sweetie. There are some people I want you to meet.” Heather led her daughter down the staircase.

Bethany had been half awake when Heather had checked on her, and she’d thought it best to introduce the four-year-old to their new bodyguards. The last thing she wanted was for her daughter to be frightened if she woke up and found a stranger in her room.

Bethany held tight to her mother’s hand, taking each step one at a time.

Heather reached the foot of the stairs and turned to face her daughter. “Sweetie, we have two people visiting us. I want you to meet Emma ’cause she’ll be staying in your bedroom tonight.”

“Why?” Bethany scratched at her pink pajamas.

“Just to make sure you’re safe. Sorta like your own personal guardian angel.”

“Oh.” Bethany blinked. “Does she have wings?”

“No, but she’s as pretty as an angel.” Heather led her daughter to the living room and spotted Jean-Luc at the coffee table. He stepped back and stood stiffly by the wingback chair.

Heather narrowed her eyes. She’d detected a hint of guilt in his expression before it had gone blank. What had he been up to? She glanced at the coffee table. The tarot cards had been gathered together into a neat stack.

She wondered what the seventh card had been. Had Jean-Luc seen it? She dragged her gaze from the stack of cards back to him and realized he was staring curiously at her and her daughter. “I brought Bethany to meet you.”

“She looks so much like you.”

“Yeah. It’s called genetics.” Heather got the impression he wasn’t around children very much. “Sweetie, this is Mr. Echarpe.”

Bethany raised a hand. “Hi.”

Jean-Luc bowed. “I am honored to meet you, Bezanie.”

She tugged on her mother’s pajamas and whispered, “He talks funny.”

“He’s from France. Like Belle,” Heather whispered back, aware of the wry look he was giving her.

“And the Beast?” Bethany asked.

Heather returned his wry look. “Exactly.”

“Is he my guardian angel, too?” Bethany asked.

“No. Emma is yours.” Heather glanced around, but Emma was apparently still on the front porch.

“I will be guarding your mother,” Jean-Luc explained.

“Oh.” Bethany nodded. “Then you get to sleep in my mama’s room.”

Heather coughed. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I will abide by your mother’s wishes.” Jean-Luc’s eyes gleamed as his gaze raked over her. “It is my most fervent desire to see her well…pleased.”

Heather’s skin prickled with goose bumps. Good Lord, he was visually undressing her right in front of her daughter. He was a beast. Her cheeks grew hot.

He merely smiled.

A sound at the front door distracted her, and she saw Emma slipping inside.

“I checked the grounds after Angus left.” Emma locked the front door. “It’s clear.”

Bethany wrapped an arm around Heather’s leg. “Is that my angel?”

“Yes. Emma, this is Bethany. I wanted her to meet you since you’ll be in her room tonight.”

“Of course.” Emma approached them, smiling at Bethany. “Good heavens, you’re as pretty as a princess.”

Bethany giggled and let go of her mother’s leg. “I was a princess for Halloween. Mama made my costume.”

“I’m sure it was lovely.”

Bethany looked up at her mom. “She talks funny, too. Is she from France?”

Emma chuckled, casting an amused glance at Jean-Luc. “I’m from Scotland. I live in a castle.”

Bethany wandered toward her. “I have a castle in my room. It’s pink.”

Emma leaned over. “Super. I’d love to see it.”

Bethany glanced back at her mom. “Can I show it to her?”

“Of course.” Heather held out her arms for a hug. “Let me kiss you good night.”

As Bethany lunged into her arms, Heather continued, “Don’t stay up too late.”

“Okay.” Bethany turned back to her new friend. “I have a dollhouse, too.”

“I saw that.” Emma took Bethany’s hand to lead her upstairs. “It’s so big.”

“There’s a family living inside,” Bethany announced as she took the stairs one at a time. “There’s a mommy and a little girl.”

“I see,” Emma murmured.

“There was a daddy,” Bethany added, “but the mommy made him leave.”

Heather winced.

“He’s okay,” Bethany continued as they reached the top of the stairs. “He lives in the closet now.”

Heather covered her mouth to stifle a groan.

“The closet is too good for him,” Jean-Luc whispered.

She spun about to find him standing right behind her. Heat burned her cheeks. She’d finally resigned herself to accepting his protection, but she wasn’t comfortable with him learning so much about her personal life. “Maybe now you understand why I refused to stay at your place. Bethany’s been through too much lately.”

“How long ago were you divorced?”

“It’s been over a year since it was legal, but we moved here almost two years ago.” Heather sighed as she wandered toward the couch. “My mother had just died and left me the house. Thank God we had a place to go.” She sat on the couch. “Not all women are so lucky.”

“You were not so lucky with your marriage.” He crossed the room, then took a seat in the wingback chair.

“Cody’s a jerk, all right, but I can’t regret it.” She dragged the chenille pillow into her lap. “I have Bethany.”

Tears crowded her eyes, and she blinked them away to keep from getting too emotional in front of this guy she hardly knew. But never a day had passed that she didn’t thank God over and over for her daughter.

Because of her daughter, she’d kept fighting when the situation seemed impossible. She’d refrained from wallowing in despair or self-pity, even when she wanted to, because she refused to look weak or insecure in front of Bethany.

Jean-Luc leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “You’re a good mother. She’s fortunate to have you.”

What a wonderful thing to say. It would be so easy to fall for a guy like this, but she still knew very little about him. That was why she was here on the couch after midnight even though she was exhausted. She needed to find out more about this sword-wielding, mystery man in a tuxedo who insisted on protecting her.

She took a deep breath. “How long has Louie been killing your girlfriends?”

“A long time.” Frowning, he tugged at his black tie till it unraveled. “But I assure you, I will not let him harm you or your daughter. His reign of terror has ended.”

His frown suddenly transformed into a look of relief and hope. “The Death card. Of course. It meant his death.”

“Excuse me?”

He motioned to the stack of tarot cards. “I looked at the last card. It was Death. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to alarm you.”

Heather laughed. “The Death card wouldn’t scare me. I’ve drawn it myself many times over the last two years. It doesn’t actually refer to death, but rebirth. Like the death of my marriage allowing me a new beginning.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “That sounds much better. I hope to have a new beginning, too.”

“Really?” That seemed odd. Wasn’t he already rich and successful? But then wealth and success didn’t always equal happiness. What had the cards said about him? The poor man was lonely. That made sense if he avoided relationships because of Louie. “If you can…get rid of Louie, then you could have your life back. You could have your new beginning.”

He sat forward. “I haven’t planned that far ahead. I regret that you’re now in danger, and my main concern is keeping you safe.”

“But it could be a good thing that he’s come back. You can resolve this mess once and for all and be free to enjoy your life.” And stop being lonely.

“You describe an enticing future for me, but still, I would give it up gladly if I could remove Lui’s threats against you.”

Heather swallowed hard. What an unselfish, honorable man. He seemed too good to be true. What had the Moon card indicated—deception? She’d been fooled before by men, so she needed to be careful. But the card could also mean something supernatural. The immortal theory simmered in the back of her mind. Gorgeous immortal men trying to chop each other’s heads off. Then would Louie be immortal, too? It would certainly explain those old names that Jean-Luc had called him.

“You are an unusual woman,” he said quietly.

She sure had an unusual imagination. “I’m fairly normal, I think.”

“No. I sense that you’re…irritated with me for invading your home, but you don’t seem angry that I’ve put you in danger. Most women would be furious about that.”

“But you’re not doing it. Louie is.”

“Most women would still blame me.” Jean-Luc rubbed his brow. “And they would make me feel even more guilty than I already do. But you, you take it in stride, and you remain so positive. And courageous.”

His lovely compliments warmed her heart, although it was hard to completely accept them. Cody had done a good job of making her feel inferior. “Actually, I’ve been a coward most of my life.”

“I saw you tonight, attacking Lui. You were very brave.”

“I’ve been trying to improve. After my mother’s death, I realized how much I had let fear control my life. It stole my dream. It killed my parents. So I’ve declared war on fear.”

His eyes gleamed with what she could only interpret as admiration. “You’re a fighter. I like that.”

She grinned. She could really get accustomed to this. Cody had always put her down to make himself feel better. But Jean-Luc was different. There was a quiet, self-assured strength that emanated from him, and it was so attractive. Of course he was attractive, she realized wryly. He made her feel good about herself.

“You said fear killed your parents. How can that be?”

Her grin faded. “It’s a long story.” And a painful one. But if she confided in Jean-Luc, maybe he would tell her about himself. Or maybe it would put him to sleep.

“I would like to hear it.” He lounged back and waited.

She had to admit she was curious how he would react. So she took a deep breath and dove in. “My father was the town sheriff. He was very good at his job, but my mother lived in terror that he’d be killed. She nagged him for years to quit.”

“Did he?” Jean-Luc asked, apparently interested.

“No. He wanted to make a difference. And he did.” Heather smiled, remembering. “When I was about six, there was a boy who went missing. Everyone was trying to find him. There was no ransom note, so my dad believed the boy had wandered into the woods and was lost.”

“Did they find him?”

“My dad organized people into search parties, but no luck. Then he sought the help of a psychic in a nearby town. He took some flak over that. There were a few old ladies in town who thought Fidelia was some kind of Satan worshipper, but she did help my dad find the boy.”

“Fidelia was the psychic?”

“Yep. My dad never needed Fidelia’s help again, but my mother was thrilled to find someone who could give her the reassurance she needed.” Heather leaned back to regard the ceiling as she recalled all the times her mother had dragged her to Fidelia’s old, crumbling house. “Every week we went to see her, and Fidelia would announce that my dad was going to be safe for another week.”

“For a price,” Jean-Luc added.

Heather laughed. “Yep. I didn’t realize till my mom passed away that we were Fidelia’s main source of income. She was broke, and I needed a babysitter, so we teamed up.”

Jean-Luc nodded. “I can tell she cares for you and your daughter.”

“Well, yeah, if I can just keep her from shooting someone to prove it.”

Jean-Luc smiled. “It is a good sign of your character that you inspire such loyalty.”

Heather sucked in a deep breath. That had to be the most awesome compliment she’d ever received. She could really get addicted to Jean-Luc. “Thank you.”

He shrugged as if it wasn’t a miracle for a man to say wonderful things. “You were telling me about your father?”

“Oh, right. When I was sixteen, I went with my mom to Fidelia’s. I was studying for a test in the kitchen. Then I heard all this shouting from the living room.”

“An argument?” Jean-Luc asked.

“A bad reading. Fidelia tried to calm my mother down, but after ten years of readings, my mom knew what all the cards meant. She was totally freaked out. By the time we got home, my mom was hysterical. She called Dad and insisted he come home right away. He knew she was upset, so he stopped by a grocery store to buy her some flowers.”

Heather rubbed her forehead, suddenly reluctant to go on with the story. “Two guys in ski masks barged in, waving pistols. My dad tried to stop them, and he was…shot.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Heather’s eyes filled with tears. “If Mother hadn’t called him so upset, he wouldn’t have been in that store. It was her fear that grew and grew until it came true.”

Jean-Luc stood and paced across the room. He seemed deep in thought.

Heather took a big breath to regain control. She’d come too far in life to turn into a blubbering weakling.

“Did your mother blame herself?” he asked quietly.

“No, that never occurred to her. In fact, she felt justified, for her fear had been proven right.”

Jean-Luc shook his head as he continued to pace.

Heather wished she knew what he was thinking. “My mother’s obsession with fear increased, but with a new focus. Me.”

He halted and stared at her.

Heather lowered her gaze to the pillow in her lap and tugged at the fringe. “My dream of leaving Schnitzelberg and becoming a fashion designer was deemed too dangerous. I needed to stay home and have a safe career. The boy I was dating in high school was too dangerous, too, ’cause he wanted to go into law enforcement.”

She dug her fingers into the pillow as a surge of anger rushed through her. “I let Mom order me around. She was so miserable after Dad died, and I wanted her to be happy. But she was never happy. The more I gave, the more she demanded. She even picked out my husband for me.”

“Cody?”

“Yes. He was so dependable. So predictable. And even more controlling than my mother. I felt so smothered, like every creative need inside me was slowly being strangled to death.”

Jean-Luc sat beside her on the couch. “At least you have a beautiful child.”