Here Comes the Vampire (12 page)

My eyes started to burn and I sniffled.

I
so
needed to get up and do something that didn’t involve crying and moaning and listening to Killer purr maniacally.

Yep, he was definitely enjoying my misery.

I glared at him for a long moment, but short of grabbing the scissors off my desk and following through on my threat, I knew he wasn’t going to take me seriously.

I didn’t blame him. My bark packed a lot more punch than my bite when it came to small, defenseless animals—even annoying ones.

Instead, I rolled onto my stomach, pulled out my iPod and headphones, and stuck the buds into my ears. Just like that, I tuned out everything except Robin Thicke singing about blurred lines and good girls and how much I wanted
it
.

The tune was upbeat and soon I was humming and feeling more like myself. I pushed off the bed, changed into a Gucci tank top and some Juicy sweat pants. Grabbing my laptop and the bag of DVDs, I collapsed back onto the bed, determined to fix my problems instead of wallowing in them.

First up?

The biggee.

Two hours into the first DVD, I started to nod off. It didn’t help that Killer had given up the snoring and gone bye-bye to Sleepy Land for real. Now when I pulled off my headset, the only thing I heard was the hum of the air conditioner and a faint snore carrying through the open French doors from the veranda below.

I left the laptop and walked over to the massive glass that opened out onto a small patio. I looked out and spotted my dad’s shadow still slumped behind the statue. The chainsaw lay forgotten at his feet. His head bobbed. His nostrils flared. The snore grew louder, wheezier, and I found myself re-thinking the whole
I’ll-be-safe-with-my-folks
thing. Especially when I started to close the doors and felt the strange prickling sensation whisper along my skin.

The same c"4%ezie feeling I’d had in the storage room just a split second before Riley had waltzed into Dead End Dating.

My gaze moved left then right, my extraordinary eyesight pushing back the shadows to sweep up and down the lush grass. Empty except for a few steaming piles left just for my father during his impromptu nap.

Was it Viola I was sensing? Her and the other NUNS?

I wanted to think so, but this felt different. I knew Viola and while she could be very intimidating, particularly during a full moon, she’d never been outright dangerous.

I was definitely sensing a threat.

I searched the area a few more seconds before shaking away the strange sensation. Even if Riley had followed me here, he wouldn’t make a move while I was here with my family.

Right?

I closed the French doors, threw the lock and headed back to the bed. Reaching for my headset, I scrolled through the playlist on my iPod. Miley Cyrus belted in my ears, proclaiming to the world that it was her party and she could do whatever she wanted. From kissing to talking to
whatever
.

If only
.

But Miley wasn’t on the run from stake-wielding Riley, or stuck in Connecticut with her bloodsucking parents, or this close to spending her afterlife with the wrong vampire. Add a snotty cat and an impending sense of doom that said things were about to go from bad to worse.

A tear slid down my cheek and I slapped it away.

Okay, I told myself. Okayyyyy. So what if my afterlife was now in the toilet and I didn’t see a way to climb back out before the first major flush? All I had to do was stay afloat until I could fi
nd the elevator footage, prove that Remy and I had NOT done the deed, return the tapes, and all before Ty came home.

Easy peasy.

I held tight to my optimism, focused on the DVDs and settled in for what was sure to be a
very
long night.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“I told you she needed a lot of work...”

My mother’s voice peeled back the blanket of sleep I was currently buried under and slid into my ears.

“...that hair and those nails and, oh, we definitely have to do something about her complexion,” the voice went on. “She’s a vampire, for Damien’s sake. She should be pale.”

“We definitely need pale,” chime in a second voice.

“Or alabaster,” another voice agreed. “Alabaster would be good.”

“A few minutes with my skin specialist and she’ll be back to vapid in no time,” my mother assured everyone.

Wait a second.

I cracked one eye open and stared at the trio of women looming over me, contemplating the fate of my new Bronzed Bellini spray tan.

One was a very regal looking blonde with blood red lips and enough eye makeup to make Lady Gaga jealous, the other a tall redhead with the same bright red lipstick. The women stood on either side of my mother who looked as tastefully put together as ever in a black Gucci shift dress and Cartier diamond earrings.

“However did she get this color in the first place?” Jacqueline Marchette pursed her full lips and frowned down at me as if looking at a bug under a microscope.

“I paid primo bucks for it at an upscale salon in Manhattan.”

“You paid for a
tan
?” the redhead quipped. “You can’t be serious?”

“I told you, Louise,” my mother waved a perfectly manicured hand, “she hasn’t been thinking clearly what with all the worry about when and if she would ever find a suitable commitment mate. She’s been doing her best to f"4%ezhatdistract herself with that dating service, but I knew it was just a matter of time before she cracked like a cheap coffin.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Louise shook her luscious red hair and looked appropriately shocked. “All twelve of my daughters have been committed for ages.”

“That’s only because they settled for the first vampire who happened along with a penis.” While Jacqueline could badmouth one of her own, she wasn’t going to let someone else join in. “Everyone knows that your girls have zero taste.”

“I’ll have you know all of them ended up with more than suitable matches.”

“Like Wallace Dupree?” Jacqueline arched an eyebrow. “He’s committed to your youngest, right?”

“What’s wrong with Wallace? He owns a very lucrative pest control company.”

“Exactly. He chases bugs for a living, which is fine for his assistants. But he’s a vampire, dear. Not Renfield.”

“He likes to stay hands on with the business.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that, except my Lil wanted better. She was waiting for that perfect match, weren’t you darling?”

Darling? Me?

“Um, could you all just step back for a second. My brain is starving for lack of oxygen. I need to breathe.”

“Breathe?” My mother looked at her friends as if I’d just cracked the funniest joke. “Isn’t she witty, too?”

“My Helen is witty,” chimed in the blonde. “That’s what landed her a mortgage broker with international holdings in Greece.”

“Overseas holdings? Really, Allison?” Jacqueline shook her head. “You know any American vampire worth his salt keeps his livelihood right here in the U.S. Why, Lil’s Remy has grown his security firm into a national organization, with over eighty branches in forty different states. He’s quite the catch. Or he was.” She beamed and my stomach hollowed out.

“About that—“ The words stuck in my throat and I swallowed. I know, I know. She was my mother. She’d given birth to me. Fed me. Nurtured me. She wasn’t going to end my existence if I happened to disagree with her.

At the same time, she was my
mother
. She’d given birth to me. Fed me. Nurtured me. She wasn’t going to end my existence if I happened to disagree with her.

No, she would make me suffer long and hard instead.

Especially if I disagreed with her in front of her two closest frenemies.

“Ma, he’s not really
my
Remy. He’s—“

“Time to get up and get dressed,” she cut in. “Now.” She eyed the suitcase sitting nearby. “On second thought, maybe we can stop off at Eileen’s Boutique for something more appropriate on our way to your makeover.”

“A makeover?”

“You can’t very well show up at the reception looking like this.” She motioned to me in my tank and sweats, my hair mussed. I glanced in a nearby mirror and saw the black rimming my eyes thanks to lack of sleep and a few too many tears.

“Not that you’ll have to live like this for much longer,” my mom rushed on. “You’ll have Remy and a Visa Gold Card. Every day will be spa day. Oh, and I hear his company has a wonderful health insurance policy. And dental.”

“My fangs are fine, Ma.”

“And he’s got round the clock maid service at his place.”

“I actually like cleaning now. It sort of grows on you.”

“Maybe we should forget the make-over and take her straight to Dr. Loralei,” Louise offered. “She doesn’t sound so good.”

“Isn’t Dr. Loralei a psychiatrist?” I asked.

“Mental health therapist,” my mom corrected. “And I think Louise is right. We get everything ket ntal straightened out upstairs and then we tackle the rest.”

“But what about the appointment with the event planner?”

“I’ll take care of that. You just worry about pulling yourself together, dear. You look tired.”

My mom was actually worried about me. As terrifying as the thought was, it was also sort of sweet. In a weird, twisted,
Mommy Dearest
way. My chest hitched. “I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

“Of course, you haven’t. Why, I bet you’ve been up non-stop, coming up with baby names and nursery colors. And for the record, I’ll not have you naming my first grandchild something hideous like Sunny or Summer or any of those other names you used to play at when you were a child.”

I remembered my stash of dolls and the names I’d come up with for each of them. “That was over four hundred and ninety years ago, Ma. I think I’ve matured since then.”

She eyed the pile of stuffed animals on a nearby chair and I shrugged. “I was going to get rid of them. I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

“I’ll have Dolores do it for you while you’re at Dr. Loralei’s. You need all of your faculties when you name your first child. Especially if Remy is anything like your father. He’ll try to make suggestions and sway you towards his side of the family, but you have to stand strong and pick something regal. Something powerful. Something from our side. Like Jacqueline.” She stared at me as if to say
Done
and I felt the blood I’d sucked down last night churning in my stomach.

“You want me to name my first daughter Jacqueline?”

“Or your first son. I’ve always wanted a little Jacque.”

“You’ve got a little Jack,” I said, reminding her about my brother.

“That’s the point. I had a Jack, now it’s only fair that you have one, too. To uphold the family tradition. Why, I even saved Jack’s first pair of baby booties.”

“Which you should give to him and his wife for their kid,” I reminded her about the upcoming bundle of human joy that was about to be delivered in less than two months.

“That Mindy can get her own baby booties,” my mother waved a hand. “Your baby will be my legacy. A true born vampire. A real Marchette.”

“It’s
Mandy
, not Mindy, and I’m not naming my son Little Jacque.”

“We’ll see,” she said in a voice that never failed to strike fear in the hearts of frightened villagers and send yours truly running online to MyTherapist.com. “Now get a move on.” She patted me on the bottom.

No, really.

I would have been touched at the warm gesture except that she stared at me as if I were the last bottle of O- at a Marchette family reunion.

I had to get a grip on this right now. I’d come to Connecticut to play the ultimate Vampzilla, not get sucked back into the vacuum that was Jacqueline Marchette.

Okay, so I’d come to hide out from Riley, but I was also here to put a crimp in my mother’s reception plans.

I sat up abruptly and smiled. “I think we should all have makeovers,” I announced. “The four of us. Like a girls’ night out.”

“We’re not girls, dear. We’re women. And we have three important appointments to handle this evening. I don’t have time to sit at some salon and get fussed over when it’s obvious there’s no way to improve on perfection. You, on the other hand, need a solid evening of pampering to get you in tip-top shape for this weekend. Speaking of which, I need to call the florist. I wanted blood red roses, but they only have crimson which is at least a full shade too light.”

“You’re right,” I told her. “There’s no time for frivolous primping. I should forget the makeover and just get busy kjus"4% with the really important things. I have so many great ideas for the reception.”

“But I already have a good handle on what I’m doing.”

“What
we’re
doing.” I beamed. “I’m here now, ready and willing to jump in and make the final decisions.”

In the blink of an eye, my mother’s look went from
What the hell?
to total outrage. “You can’t be serious?”

“It only seems right. I’m the eternity mate, after all.”

“Which is why you should take some time out to enjoy yourself. By yourself.”

“But I hate being all by my lonesome.” I jutted my lip out in a perfect pout. “I want makeovers for all of us. At the same time.
Together
.” And then I did the one thing I knew would freak my mother out even more than when I’d announced I was moving out and opening my own dating service.

I summoned the waterworks and busted out crying.

“I suppose we could spare some time on the way to the country club,” my mother said after a moment of shocked silence.

“Really?” I feigned surprise and sniffled. Loudly.

“Yes. Just stop what you’re doing.” She waved a hand. “Stop it right now and we’ll go for makeovers
. All of us,” she added, despite the objections that echoed around her.

“Your wish is my command.” I sniffled again for good measure, popped up off the bed and headed for the bathroom to get changed.

And that, girlfriendzzz, is how you do psycho Vampzilla.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Are you okay?” I asked Evie the moment she picked up her cell phone.