Part 5 (2/2)
”Yeah? Well, save that s.h.i.+t for later. Right now, Phoebe's BFF found a piece of paper with information on it or some s.h.i.+t when he was sweeping up the dead chick. He's pretty productive in his heightened state of freak. I should bring him back to the castle and let him dust the s.h.i.+t out of my torture rack. All those d.a.m.ned little nails are a b.i.t.c.h to clean around.”
Phoebe's eyes narrowed in disgust at how cavalier she was being, but she pushed her way past Nina who stomped off to help Wanda in the kitchen and headed toward the living room, where Mark had indeed donned his ap.r.o.n, feather duster, and Swiffer. ”Mark?”
He held up a hand for dramatic pause, hitching his jaw. ”Do. Not. I'm just not ready.” He ran the Swiffer along the underside of the chest they used as a coffee table with a frantic swipe.
”We have to talk sometime,” she coaxed, smiling sweetly at him.
Mark threw up his middle finger at her. ”Like. h.e.l.l. We don't ever have to talk about vampires and blood and fangs and women who cremate on command on my Jennifer Convertible!”
Phoebe winced, deciding on another tack. ”You know what this is like?”
”A Wes Craven movie?” he squeaked.
”It's like an adventure, Mark. Remember how just the other day we were sitting around over chocolatinis all wis.h.i.+ng for something to jump-start the humdrum rut we're in?”
Mark planted his hands on his Dockers-clad hips, his eyes wide. ”Jump-start? This was more like being attached to a live electrical wire and jumping into the pool at the Y. When I said we needed a break from our routine, I was thinking more along the lines of, I dunno ... spelunking or ceramic cla.s.ses, Phoebe. Not a dead woman and Emo-licious in there!”
”You know what else this is like?”
His finger shot up to stab at the air between them. ”Do not give me one of your crazy soap opera references. This isn't like anything on Chances or Connections or even the thank-G.o.d-someone-put-it-out-of-its-long-overdue-misery Edge of Eternity.”
He was right. Even the Edge of Eternity couldn't top this. ”Did Wanda and Nina have the chance to explain this to you?”
His head bobbed vigorously. ”Oh, they explained. Yes, they did. I heard all about their accidents and puppy dogs, dentists, exotic cats, and trips to h.e.l.l. I learned cute new catchphrases I'm sure would be trending topics for crazy on Twitter given an opportunity. I heard, miss. Oh, yes, I did!”
She shot him a mournful glance, clasping her hands together in front of her. ”So you get that I'm a vampire now? That, among other things, I'll never eat tuna tartar again?”
”Don't be such a silly. You'll be too busy drinking blood and reading minds to partake in my insignificant tuna tartar.” Mark swatted at her with the feather duster, his words squeaky and watery.
Overwhelmed, Phoebe threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing his soft middle tight. She pressed her ear to his heartbeat, steady and sure. ”I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen or to get you involved. I'm still not even sure how it happened. I'll make the trauma up to you somehow. Maybe a facial or a ma.s.sage? Wait. I know. I'll take bathroom duty for the next year.”
Mark sighed against the top of her head. ”How about a good brain bleach? You know, to wipe the G.o.d-awful images from my head?”
There was no making up for the kind of trauma she'd inflicted on him-even if she had no way of knowing it was going to happen to begin with. ”I'll think of something. Promise. But until then, I really need you to stick by me this time. Now more than ever.”
His grating sigh penetrated her eardrum, but he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. ”Don't be ridiculous. Where else would I stick if not to you?” Mark patted her on the back and deliberately set her aside. ”Now get off of me and look at this piece of paper I found over by the door where Vampirella was. She must have had it on her. It has O-Tech's letterhead on it.” He pulled out a wrinkled dirty note from the pocket of his pants, palming it to her. ”Go decipher it with that hunk of a man and let me process. And by process I mean someone's going to have their eye shadows alphabetized when all's said and done tonight.”
Phoebe let her shoulders relax for a moment, relieved. Mark was organizing. A sure sign he was officially on the road to recovery.
”And take this.” He handed her one of Optimus's empty cans of cat food with a pink Tupperware top. ”It's the woman's remains. She deserves a decent burial. Whoever-whatever she is-was. Oh, dear G.o.d,” he whimpered, promptly returning to his cleaning spree.
”I'll take that,” Sam said from behind her, making heated chills climb her spine just by the sound of his voice. ”It should be up to me to spread her ashes. Whatever her reasons, she came to find me, and I can't help but think she knew what her fate was. She was warning us.”
She handed him the can, avoiding his fingers because they were probably sources of yet more tingles of awareness. ”You're very honorable.” And hot. s.e.xual napalm hot.
”She was trying to help us, I think. It's the least I can do.”
”And she was our only connection to what happened with this new unexplored vampire power I seem to have acquired. A power we don't know whether you have or not, unless you're feeling adventurous and want to give teleportation a whirl.”
Sam frowned, running his fingers over the dark stubble on his chin. His long, lean, well-manicured fingers. ”It looks that way.”
”Which means I should never think about a psyche ward again,” she joked. She had to or she'd cry. Or dry heave. Whatever.
Taking her by the shoulders, Sam held her eyes with his. His gaze was serious and troubled. But that wasn't what garnered most of her attention. His touch was, and it left her unnerved. Just as she'd suspected it would. ”Phoebe, look. I promise you, I'll figure this out. This mess is my fault, and I'll clean it up.”
”Will you change before you do? I imagine that dress could be uncomfortable to clean anything in. Especially a mess as big as the one we're in.”
His response was a chuckle, deep and rich, leaving a warm, resonant ring in her ears. ”I promise to find some man-pants soon.”
”I really thought you were a cross-dresser,” she responded by way of an apology for labeling him.
Sam smirked, the dimple in his chin lickable. ”In hindsight, I almost wish that was the case. But alas, I'm just a secure guy who isn't afraid to go for the laugh. This all happened at a Halloween party.”
”I heard. That woman was your date.”
”One I can't remember much about other than the way she looked.”
”One-night stands are like that. Nameless. But I imagine it wasn't her name that attracted you to her.” A stab of unwarranted, totally unexplained jealousy pinged her gut. It deserved absolutely no attention for its pettiness.
Sam averted his gaze and focused on a spot just above her shoulder. ”So you know about that night, then?”
Phoebe flapped her hands dismissively, then clasped her ponytail, dragging her fingers through it. ”No details. And no judgments. We all get lonely.”
Sam paused for a moment, his eyes scanning her face. ”Lonely is clearly a dangerous thing these days.”
”It's not just the clap the singles of the world have to contend with anymore,” Phoebe agreed wryly, then handed him the slip of paper, forcing her focus to remain on answers, not Sam's bedroom bunny. ”Mark found this when he was stress cleaning. She must have dropped it on her way in when she collapsed. It's from O-Tech.”
Sam held it up to the light and read it with a frown, the lines on his wide forehead deepening.
Fear came back in a jolt to her gut. ”What does it say?”
”The letters TDB. It's my letterhead. It has my name on it, but it's not my handwriting.” Sam held it up for her to see.
”What do you think TDB stands for?”
Sam scratched his head with lean fingers. ”I have no clue.”
Phoebe noted the scrawl of the mysterious initials was large and flowery, maybe even feminine. ”What do you do at O-Tech?”
He gazed right into her eyes so intently Phoebe blinked. ”I'm one of a team of scientists there. I'm an entomologist in research and development. O-Tech deals in pest control-among other things.”
”Bugs?”
”Many winged things. Yes.”
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