Part 7 (1/2)

”Just because of my mother? Listen, it's only one meeting. You go. You have some refreshments, talk about how great Rob is, and you're home free.”

”But that's the problem. Rob isn't great. He has flaws. Major flaws.”

”You didn't seem to have any concerns last night in the storage closet.”

”I wasn't thinking straight. Now that I am, I see that he's not the vampire for me. Sure, he's got a phenomenal fertility rating.

And abs you could pound nails on. And great hands. And he doesn't mind it when I drink the last gla.s.s of O+ or misplace the remote or get makeup smudges on the lining of his coffin. Still, he's far from perfect.”

I tried to process her words, but my brain stuck on one thing in particular. ”Rob sleeps in a coffin?” A grin played at her lips. ”I wouldn't exactly call it sleeping.”

”Forget I asked. Let's get back to Rob. What's wrong with him? Maybe we can fix it.”

I expected the usual spiel befitting a born male vampire-he's narcissistic and selfish and conceited and money-hungry ”He's too ...” She made a face. ”Nice.”

”No problem. We'll just try to get him to be more considerate and compa.s.sionate and-What did you just say?”

She shook her head. ”He brings me flowers and he rubs my feet. He even sliced and diced this jerk who kept grabbing my a.s.s when we went to that Nickelback concert last week.”

”And the problem is?” Other than murder one, of course.

”He's nice,” she said again, ”and I'm not. I mean, come on, I'm so into myself it isn't funny. I'm selfish and conceited and all I really care about is money and s.e.x. I don't deserve a vampire like Rob.”

”Trust me, you deserve him. He's every bit as selfish as you are. He's just not showing it. You're in the honeymoon phase.”

”But what if we're not? What if he's really a great guy and I'm a b.i.t.c.h?” She shook her head. ”He'll get nicer and I'll get b.i.t.c.hier and he'll end up hating me. I can't do that. Better to call it quits right now before we get any more involved. Then we can still be friends. And still have hot, meaningless s.e.x once in a while.”

I had a feeling that Nina wasn't half as scared of becoming more of a b.i.t.c.h as she was of changing. Mellowing. Falling in love.

I wasn't going to say that, however. I knew my friend. She was in major denial and the more I pushed, the more likely she was to run the other way. ”You're right. You're much too b.i.t.c.hy for my brother. You should break it off now.”

She gave me a strange look. ”Really?”

I nodded vigorously. ”You're beyond b.i.t.c.hy. If there were a Bee-yotch category in the Olympics, you'd win the gold.”

”I'm not that bad.”

”Don't sell yourself short. You're at the top of your game. A master.”

”Really?” Instead of looking hopeful, her eyes were bright. I ignored the urge to throw my arms around her and tell her she was the sweetest, most considerate, most wonderful vampire in the world and any male would be lucky to have her.

”You should tell Rob off, pack your stuff, move out and cut all ties,” I said instead. Harsh, right? But a matchmaker's gotta do what a matchmaker's gotta do.

She blinked. ”You think?”

”Straight up. Then you can go back to boffing bus-boys and concierge attendants and Rob can find a real vampire who wants to settle down. In fact,” I smiled, ”I think I might have just the female for him. I signed her up just yesterday. Tall. Brunette-”

”Rob likes blondes,” she cut in, fingering a golden tendril that had come loose from her ponytail.

”Rob liked blondes. Once you break his heart, he'll go on a mad rampage for brunettes. He'll be dying to go out with my prospect-who, for the record, is also rich and great in bed.”

”Don't you think it's a little premature to try hooking him up? We haven't even broken up yet.” ”That's true. I mean, he's so stuck on you, he'll probably need time for reality to sink in before he'll even consider another vampire.”

”Definitely.”

I glanced at my watch. ”If I know my brother, he should be back in the saddle in about twenty-four hours. I'll give him a call tomorrow night, provided you go through with it and break up with him tonight.”

”The sooner the better,” she said, but I could see the doubt in her eyes. She squared her shoulders and turned. ”I'm getting this over with right now.” She sniffled.

I know, right?

”At the very latest, first thing in the morning,” she added as she signaled a cab and flip-flopped over.

”Atta girl,” I said as she climbed in.

I gave her a wave as the cab disappeared and said a little prayer that I hadn't just pushed her into making the biggest mistake of her afterlife. With Esther missing and my business spiraling down the toilet, I had enough to worry about.

I spent the next few minutes trying to hail my own cab. When that failed, I disappeared into the alley near DED and closed my eyes. Soon, my heartbeat faded into the steady beat of wings and I flapped my way home.

A quick metamorphosis near the back trash can, and I walked around the front and let myself into the building. Minus a shoe, of course.

There was someone in my apartment.

I'd like to say it was my super -vamp abilities that tipped me off a few seconds later when I reached my floor. Truthfully, though, I was running a quart low. I 'd had one measly gla.s.s of blood mixed in with the energy drinks. While plenty to start the evening, it wasn't enough to keep me going past midnight.

No, I picked up on the B&E because my door stood partially open and a light shone inside.

I paused in the doorway and debated my options-run for help or bust in and kick some a.s.s.

My gut leaned toward the first, but my inner fas.h.i.+onista kept me rooted to the spot. Everything I owned was in that apartment, including a brand-spanking-new pair of Dior sungla.s.ses and a Marc Jacobs coin purse.

A wave of determination swept through me. I was a born vampere. Fearless. Ferocious. And fiercely overprotective of my wardrobe.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. My gaze scanned the small living room for anything out of the ordinary.

The antique coffee table I'd talked my mother into giving me? Check.

My prized collection of InStyle stacked on top? Check.

Traitorous cat sleeping on my favorite rug? Check.

Hunky, blond Swede stretched bare-a.s.sed on my sofa? Check, check.

I blinked, but he didn't disappear. Still hunky. Blink, blink. Still blond. Blink, blink, blink. Still naked- ”Vonderful.” Hans' thick accent echoed in my ears and distracted me from the impressive package parked against my favorite throw pillow.

My gaze ping-ponged back to his face and his bright blue eyes. My mom had picked up Hans during a holiday in Sweden.

Basically, she'd fallen for his magical hands and he'd fallen for her bank account, and so they'd been a perfect match. He'd gladly given up a poor existence as a shoe cobbler in exchange for a small fortune, food, unlimited spray tan appointments and a personal trainer. He'd also given up his free will and succ.u.mbed to my mother 's vamp mojo. He now lived in a state of perpetual glam, his own personality whittled away to reflect the man at his most basic form.