Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Accidentally Yours #4)(49)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Anger simmered in his eyes. “I’m not hiding anything. And I do not appreciate your questioning my integrity.”

“Oh. Look at that. You just moved up the ladder to defensive cocky. Why do men always do that? Instead of simply owning up when they’ve been caught lying, they behave as if they’re at a cocky poker game. I’ll see your defensive cockiness and raise you to colossal cock,” she said in a deep mocking voice. “Oh, well then, I’ll see your colossal c**k and raise you…” Ixtab burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” he growled.

She exhausted her chuckle while he glared. “Oh—I made a joke! Get it? I’ll see your colossal… oh, never mind. Where was I?” She cleared her throat. “Oh yeah. You’re totally hiding something.”

“Am not.” He stepped forward.

“Are too.” She stepped forward, leaving an inch between them. She could smell his sweet breath and feel his energy seeping into her veins. Gods, she wanted to kiss him.

His head dipped an inch, as if he were thinking the same, but then he stopped and turned to leave. “I need to go see my father.”

She grabbed his arm. “You just went. Stop running and tell me. Why didn’t you ever mention the woman? And your twin? I know something is going on, something bad. I can sense it in the air.” He didn’t respond but once again, she felt the fear and suffering building inside him. “Maybe I can help.”

“My father is dying, and there is much to settle before he moves on.”

So that was why Antonio was here. “I’m sorry.” She stroked his arm, not knowing if it was to comfort him or fuel her need to touch him.

“So am I.”

Of course. It was never easy for anyone to lose a parent. This had to be weighing heavily on his soul, and here she was poking the bear, picking a fight with him during his time of need. Gods, she was such a bitch. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I wish you could. But no.”

“Are you sure? If the cause is something dark.” She swallowed, knowing this entire place felt poisoned.

Antonio shook his head and she could swear she saw his eyes tear up. She’d never seen a vampire cry over anything. They were too tough. They were numb. They were like those little calluses on the edge of her big toe that no amount of pumicing could remove.

“How long has he got?” she asked.

“Not long. A few days, perhaps.”

“Your mother must be heartbroken,” she said.

“My mother died after giving birth to us, so it’s just me and my brother now.”

“If there’s anything I can do, say the word,” she said. “I never had parents, but I know it can’t be easy to lose him.”

“I’m not worried about losing my father. The bastard can rot in hell for all I care.”

Whoa! That was unexpected. “I’m not following.”

He rubbed has hands over his face. “I have to go. If you need anything, ask Kirstie, our maid.” He stopped and looked at her, his gorgeous olive eyes filled with distress, a distress that spiked her heart. “Ixtab?”

“Yes?”

“I must open the tablet tonight.”

“You’re not going to tell me why, are you?” she asked.

He shook his head no.

Ixtab watched Antonio leave. Nothing about his situation felt right. Nothing about it made any sense. It was hands down the oddest situation she’d ever been in. Even stranger than the time Cimil threw a chocolate fondue party—for the record, there were no strawberries or cake for dipping; there was only… Cimil. But as bizarre and painful as this situation had become, nothing was worse than the hollowness burning inside. She could no longer deny that she felt something for Antonio. And it killed her to know that he wanted this other woman.

Who was she?

Reason number eleven: vampires are really good at keeping secrets.

She had to know what was going on before that portal opened, and there wasn’t much time. She scratched her itchy veil. The answer seemed to be staring her right in the face. Perhaps if she got away from the darkness of this house, she would be able to think clearly.

She picked up her phone and called for her chauffeur.

Chapter Veinticuatro

“Hola. Me llamo Ixtab, pero mis amigos me llaman Ixy.” Ixtab stood before a group of roughly twenty people sitting on steel-gray foldout chairs in a small room toward the back of the village town hall. The dingy yellow walls were blanketed with fliers, including a shocking amount of missing persons photos—mostly women.

It had taken Ixtab’s driver over thirty minutes to find the nearest AA meeting—or anything-A meeting—however, Ixtab’s fuzzy head had benefited from the afternoon drive through the historic town.

“Hola, Ixy,” the group replied.

“Hola. I know I’ve compelled everyone in this room, so it’s not as if you have a choice in the matter, but I do want to thank you for being here. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” She began telling the nearly comatose crowd all her woes, including the odd bit about the look-alikes: Francisco, Antonio, and his twin. Yet divulging the facts didn’t help her sort out this mess in her head as she’d hoped. Too many pieces were still missing.

“So, any clues?” she asked.

A few random grumbles came from the group, and then, “If you ask me, señorita, you should stay away from that house and that family. They are cursed and everyone knows it.” Ixtab took a good look at the man in his eighties wearing thick glasses and a moth-eaten sweater.

“Cursed? What kind of ‘cursed’?”

No one responded. And this was why the art of compelling rocked. “Tell me now. I command you,” she said directly to the old man.

“They say the father is possessed by the devil. He steals the souls of young women.” The old man pointed to the wall and then went on to say that the police had investigated the family many times over the decades. Dozens of missing women had been traced back to the estate, but each time the charges were dropped without explanation. “Any policeman who goes into the house never remembers ever being there.”

Red goddess flag!

Speaking of compelling, is that what Antonio’s father been doing? Crap. Could he be a vampire, too? But then, why was he dying? No. That didn’t make any sense. Perhaps it was the case of an overly superstitious people. These small towns loved their spooky legends.

In any case, Ixtab already had to check out Antonio’s father on the top of her list. Whatever was going on—the dark energy in that house, Antonio’s obsession with the tablet, his twin—she’d bet her favorite red flip-flops that the father was the key to everything. “Thanks everyone, this noodling session was really helpful.”