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The Real Werewives of Vampire County


He gave a sexy smile, as if he knew. “We need to feel comfortable around each other if we’re going to maintain our charade.”


Luckily I was not vapid or stupid, even if Lucien would prefer it. “Kissing you was not in the contract.”


He moved his mouth dangerously close to mine. I felt strangely vulnerable as he brushed his fingers along the edge of my jaw. His thumb found the curve of my chin. “You could use a good kiss.”


I didn’t doubt that. But I didn’t need it from him.


He broke the contact and I nearly slithered to the ground with relief. If he’d tried to kiss me at that very moment, I wasn’t sure what I would have done.


He brushed past me, toward the bed, which gave me time to press my legs together tightly and try to forget I’d ever met a vampire named Lucien.


He stretched out over the bloodred bedcovers, his back against the antique headboard. God, he was a solid piece of man. And I’d seen a lot of well-built weres.


I couldn’t let Lucien get to me. “What do you really want?” I demanded. But I was already in trouble. I’d never been so aware of my body—or tempted to learn the god-awful truth.


Darned if the vampire didn’t know what I was thinking. “You’re not about to use your power on me.”


“Of course not,” I snapped.


“Then why are you tilting your chin down?”


“My chin?”


“Back in the crypt, you lowered your chin a fraction right before you began the interrogation.”


Interesting. I’d never been aware I did that. I tried to imagine interrogating someone and realized he was right.


Lucien went cold. “Don’t you ever interrogate me.”


“There’s no need,” I said. “Is there?” I ignored his scowl. “It might not even work on your kind.” Although I believed it would.


“Nevertheless,” he said, “I’ll question the vamps. You question the wives.”


I crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine.”


I had a feeling I was going to be doing the heavy lifting.


His phone beeped. Lucien eased it out from his back pocket and checked the screen. “After you speak with Tia, I think you should question the vulture. She seems a likely suspect.”


“Agreed. Where will you be tomorrow?” He certainly couldn’t sleep in the bedroom. It had three bay windows.


His expression didn’t give anything away. “The Vampire Council has made certain provisions for me.”


“But you won’t tell me what or where?”


His pointed look said it all.


“Way to go, partner.” I should have known. “You’ll hop into bed with me just so long as I don’t know where you sleep.”


He patted the mattress next to him. “Must you make things difficult?”


“Actually, refusing to sleep with you will make things a lot simpler. And while we’re at it, let’s lay down some ground rules. Number one: no bed sharing.”


Lucien scowled.


“Number two: no kissing.”


“I think you’d like it.”


“That’s beside the point,” I snapped, reddening when I realized what I’d said. “Number three,” I said a little louder, ignoring his smug expression. “No bloodsucking.”


“Those are not very good rules.”


I didn’t ask for his approval, just as he hadn’t asked for mine. “They’re my rules.”


“Agreed,” he said. “Now I have one more.”


“Lay it on me.”


He gave me a long look. “Never use your truth powers on me.”


“Where’s the fun in that?” I asked just to tick him off.


He didn’t even have the courtesy to take the bait. “Agreed?” he asked.


“Agreed,” I said, slipping out of the room.


This was going to be a long three days.


CHAPTER 4


I smelled Vinny before I heard him. “Wake up, cupcake.” He still had that odd mix of old wood and grass going for him. Only now, he had the body of a French maid from the Playboy Mansion.


“You like?” he asked, as I stared at the boobs practically popping out from under the lacy front of the dress. His voice was as gravelly as ever, only now he had cover model features, big doe eyes, and legs that wouldn’t quit. “I’m your housekeeper, Helga.”


“The garters are a bit much,” I remarked, climbing out of bed.


“Right-o. This coming from the fashion queen.”


“Don’t you start.”


He leaned up against the edge of the dresser. “Lucien has it so you’re gonna go over to that gal Tia’s house. Nine o’clock sharp.”


I checked the bedside clock. “Okay. I have a half hour.” Plenty of time.


“I paid her a visit last night.”


No wonder Lucien never went anywhere without Vinny. He was handy to have around. “Let me guess,” I said, “pizza delivery guy?”


“Nah.” He scratched at his ear. “These women don’t eat. Besides, I had to get on the inside.”


“Stranded motorist?”


He grinned. “She has a thing for hurt bunnies.”


Somehow I couldn’t picture Vinny as a fuzzy bunny.


“Anyhow, I checked her out good. She don’t seem to be working for anybody else. You might want to do your woo-woo thing”—he twirled a finger on the side of his head—“just in case.”


“Thanks,” I said. I fully intended to use everything I could on her—and the rest of the werewives.


A half hour later, I rang the doorbell at 12 Mysteria Lane. Tia Lovelace lived in a pink two-story flanked by climbing white roses and a generous front porch.


I was wearing a lovely orange pantsuit, perfect for concealing weapons. The pockets were big enough for my stun gun, I had my fixed-blade daggers tucked in the back and two pairs of handcuffs—one in each bra cup.


A dazzling auburn-haired were opened the door. She had the same pouty lips and impeccable skin as the rest, yet she seemed a little fresher than the others, more real.


“You must be Heather,” she said, treating me to an uneven smile.


“That’s Mitzy to you.”


“I didn’t get a chance to say hi last night,” she said shyly.


No kidding. “Lucien said you could help.” I didn’t need to elaborate. We both knew.


“Come in,” she said, standing behind the door while she opened it, as if she could disappear.


“Nice spread,” I said, if you liked peach and white. She led me into the most un-vampirish living room in the universe. It was sleek and clean. In fact, it would be very hard to hide a weapon in this place.


Still, as soon as my butt hit the couch, I leaned forward and drew my power up into my chest. “Tia,” I said as I felt it move through me, “why are you helping me?”


My head throbbed and my ears began to buzz. Her glossed lips parted and I could feel the taut pull of my powers, binding her to me.


“Have you seen yourself in the mirror?” she asked. “That vulture is going to tear you apart.”


“Okay, so I had a few problems last night,” I admitted. We’d work on that later. I needed to know her connection to Lucien.


Tia furrowed her brow. “A few problems? Red stilettos with a yellow peasant dress?”


Oh come on. “Red shoes are sassy.”


“You looked like an eighth-grade hooker.”


My temples ached. “Tell me what you really think,” I said, resenting my power for the first time.


But Tia was on a roll. “Francine is openly asking why a status-seeking vampire would marry you. It’s only a matter of time before you’re discovered.”


I focused on her, ignoring the pounding behind my eyes. “Why are you helping us?”


She pursed her lips. “I started this. I led the council to Marcos the gardener.”


I sat back. Well, that was news.


“Why?” I asked slowly.


“Sunny was my friend. She had her faults, but she was a good person.” She sighed. “I knew I could go to Detective Mead.” She crossed her long legs. “My husband trusts him.”


“Is he going to be able to work with Lucien as well?” It would be nice for Lucien to have an ally among the vampires.


“No.” Tia chewed at her lip. “My husband is asleep.”


“Well, sure,” I said. “It’s daytime.”


“No”—she wrung her hands—“Thomas has been asleep for the last six years.”


“In the ground?” I’d heard of vampires who did that.


“Here at home,” she said. “He’s very tired.”


“Obviously.” I didn’t know what else to say.


Tia gave a small smile. “Thomas would approve of my going to Lucien. He’s a good man.”


“Maybe.” I was the one asking the questions, and fighting a massive headache. It still didn’t explain why she’d called someone like Lucien in. “Do you know anyone who wanted to hurt Sunny?”

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