Your Coffin or Mine? (13 page)

“What about his girlfriend?”

“I’ll distract her every now and then so you can cozy up to him in front of my mother.”

“And the jacket?”

“You’ll get it back in mint condition. Tomorrow.” When she didn’t answer, I added, my voice softer, “Please, Nina. This would really mean so much to me.”

Several seconds ticked by. “Oh, all right. But you owe me.”

“No problem. I’ll give you—”

“And don’t even think about offering me a free profile,” she cut in.

“—free, um, coffee. And cream.
And
sugar.”

“Forget it.” She paused before delivering the verdict. “I want your Badgley Mischka sunglasses.”

“The ones with the Swarovski crystals?”

“Those are the ones.”

“But—”

“Or I’ll call Pierre and tell him to meet me upstairs. It’s quickie time.”

“Deal,” I muttered.
Bitch.

“I heard that.”

“Sorry I’m late,” I told my mother when she opened the massive front door later that evening. “I couldn’t decide between the Anne Kleins and the Jimmy Choos.” I stared at my feet outlined against the expensive marble tile. “Jimmy won.”

“Fine, fine.” Jacqueline Marchette looked her usual stunning self in a black Emanuel Ungaro dress. The material that draped her body accented her tall, svelte figure. Her long, dark brown hair was slicked back into its usual chic ponytail. She had high cheekbones, rich brown eyes, and glossed lips. White gold mesh earrings dangled from her pale earlobes. She had one hand on the doorknob and a tumbler of vodka in the other. She reeked of French perfume, cherries jubilee, and major disapproval. “Just hurry and get inside.” She spared Nina a look as she waved her glass. “Your father’s already in the middle of his fourth putt and your brothers are here.
And
the human.” The door thudded shut behind us. The ice in the vodka glass tinkled.

My mother wrinkled her sculpted nose as she led us toward the main living room where everyone was gathered. “I tell you, if I have to see that Molly fawn all over my baby one more time, I’m going to throw myself on the nearest sharp object.”

“It’s Mandy, Mom.” The
click, click
of my shoes echoed in the massive hallway, keeping time with my frantic heartbeat.

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 disappoint 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 disappoint her.

No, she would make me suffer.

“It’s outrageous is what it is,” my mother went on. “She keeps touching him.” She took a long swallow from her glass as we reached the main room.

My oldest two brothers—Max and Rob—stood by a polished cherrywood sideboard. Max looked as handsome as ever in expensive casual—Guess jeans and a fitted, washed-out gray tee. Rob had gone for modest casual in a pair of Levi’s and a navy henley, while my dad pulled off tacky casual in black, red, and white plaid pants and a red golf shirt. Max sipped a scotch on the rocks, Rob nursed a bottled beer, and my dad leaned over a small putting green, golf club in hand.

My mother nodded toward the couple who sat side by side on the tapestry sofa. “What did I tell you? She’s holding his hand.” She said it with the same outrage as
“She’s plotting to destroy the entire born vamp nation”
or
“She’s wearing a Dior knock-off.”

Let’s see. Hopelessly in love. Wedding in three months. Joint checking accounts. “The nervy bitch,” I murmured.

“Exactly.” She forced a smile. “Everyone, Lil’s here. And Nina.”

Several pairs of eyes turned toward us and I gave a little wave before scanning the rest of the room in search of some sign that tonight was going to be even worse than I’d anticipated. An indentation in the couch. A pair of car keys that didn’t go to the Marchette fleet of filthy expensive vehicles. A jacket or a pipe or—I swear I’m not making this up—a scorecard for total Orgasm Quotients.

Long story short: My mother wanted grandbaby vamps to carry on the Marchette line. Since no female was good enough for her three boys, the fate of this particular branch of the family tree rested solely on yours truly. Hence the constant fix ups.

At least until Mandy had entered the picture. My mom had been so freaked lately that she’d forgotten all about finding eligible, fertile son-in-law candidates. I’d been solo for the last six hunts.

I smiled. Make that seven.

“Remy’s running late. He’ll be joining us for dinner later,” my mother informed me, wiping the smile off my face. “He’s your date for tonight.”

Fifteen

D
id she just say Remy?

My heart jumped and if I hadn’t been a perfect, pretentious born female vampire, I would have sworn I could feel the sweat popping out on my fore-head.

Not
Remy.

Don’t get me wrong. I like the guy. As far as born male vamps went, he was one of the most tolerable. I grew up with him in the old country. We’d played connect the blood drops together and chased our human nannies and even terrorized the occasional small village. While I didn’t see him that often now—I lived in Manhattan and he upheld the law as the chief of police in Fairfield—we still had a lot in common. Even more, I never had to worry about giving him the brush-off because I knew he didn’t like me like
that.

At least, I’d never thought so until my close brush with jail a few months back. He’d helped me out and I’d sort of promised him a favor, and, well, the debt remained unpaid. Now whenever he looked at me, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was picturing me naked.

Particularly since I’d started to picture him naked.

“So where is she?” my mother asked as she came up beside me, effectively killing my anxiety over Remy’s imminent arrival.

“Right there.” I motioned to where Max poured a drink for my best friend. Meanwhile, everyone else tried to look awestruck while my pops demonstrated his latest twist and curl, and griped about his failed sniper attempt on Viola.

“…tried to take her out from several different vantage points. Who knew the woman could move that fast?” he told my brother Rob.

“She’s a
were,
Dad. They have fast reflexes.”

“I had five fully cooked pot roasts as a distraction and she still dodged every bullet.”

“You really shot at someone?” Mandy asked. “Isn’t that attempted murder?”

“Not during hunting season,” Jack informed her.

“But that’s Nina,” my mother murmured. “She’s hardly appropriate for Jack.”

“Why not? Born vamp. Impressive Orgasm Quotient. Great shoes. Killer eyelashes.” Nina had gone for the Christina Aguilera look, complete with multicolored lashes that shimmered every time she blinked. “I think I hit the jackpot.”

“But all of you were in knickers together.”

Thanks, Ma, for that great visual.
“Look at it this way. She already knows what a shit he is, so there’ll be no surprises a few centuries down the road.”

She seemed to think. “True. I suppose it could work.” She shrugged. “Anything’s better than that Maxie.”

“
Mandy.
”

“Whatever.”

“Besides, Nina isn’t going to actually hook up with Jack. This is just a little teaser to get him ready for the real prospects.”

“You already have more lined up for the dinner party?”

“Do I have more?” I snorted. “I’m a professional, Mother, a detail-oriented perfectionist who is always fully prepared and leaves nothing to chance. Of course I have more.” At least I was hoping like hell I would. “You’re paying me good money and I fully intend to deliver.”

“If she’s really a prospect for Jack, why is she flirting with Max?” She eyed the blonde who leaned into my oldest brother and rested a perfectly manicured hand on his arm.

“That’s not flirting. They’re just talking. And laughing.” And looking as if they’d like to strip each other bare and do the nasty right there on my mother’s prized Berber rug. I snatched my mother’s glass. “Let me get you a refill.”

I made a beeline for the liquor and breezed by Nina. “Would you cool it?” I hissed.

“You told me to cozy up to him.”

“Jack, not Max.”

“I’m practicing.”

“Well, stop it. Ooops, we’re out of ice,” I declared. I motioned to the human perched next to my youngest brother. “Mandy, can you help me get some from the kitchen?”

She popped up, excitement bubbling in her eyes at being called by her actual name. “Sure.”

“Fab.” I turned to Nina and whispered, “You’ve got five minutes to impress my mom. Make it good.”

“As soon as I get home, I’m lining my cat’s litter box with your Donna Karan jacket,” I told Nina as we hid out in the pool house a half hour later while everyone else searched for the
it
person.

“Since when do you have a cat?” She gave me a curious glance.

I shrugged. “I’m trying an alternative diet.”

“Ewww.”

Yeah, ewww. But it was the best I could come up with considering the fact that I was extremely upset. And pissed. I gave Nina the evil eye. “What the hell were you thinking?”

She shrugged. “You said to make it good.”

“That meant a little smiling and flirting with
Jack.
It didn’t mean a lap dance for Rob.”

“I wasn’t giving him a lap dance. My skirt got stuck on his zipper.”

“Because you were shaking your moneymaker right on top of his Mr. Happy.”

“Your father swung his club and I had to dodge. It was either Rob’s lap or the floor.”

“There was a rug to cushion the fall.”

“Get over it. The night’s still young. I’ll give it another shot during dinner.” She glanced at the diamond Cartier bracelet encircling her slim wrist. “How much longer do you think they’ll be?” Her fangs peeked past her full lips. “I’m starved.”

My father was
it.
In addition to being the head of the Marchette clan, he was also the grumpiest loser. “It could take awhile.”

We spent the next hour dishing on the latest spring line and discussing our sex lives.

Okay, so we discussed Nina’s sex life and my lack of one since Ty had dropped off the face of the earth.

“I hate to perpetuate the snob thing, but there’s a reason the ancients turn their noses up at the whole vampire-making thing.”

“Maybe they’re just a bunch of old geezers who are set in their ways.”

“And maybe they know something we don’t.” She gave me The Look. “All I’m saying is, I would forget all about this Ty person if I were you. There are plenty of other vamps out there—”

The shrill sound of a whistle drowned the rest of her warning.

I pushed to my feet. Thankfully, it was over. The hunt
and
the lecture.

“Awesome, Dad,” I told my father when I reached the patio to find him looking sullen. Rob wore a victorious smile and held up the whistle he’d ripped from my father’s neck. (Quick update: The
it
person wore a whistle around his or her neck and the first vamp to get close enough to rip it free and blow took home the coveted vacation days.) “You held out longer than anyone
ever
.”

“Way to go.” Nina smiled and added her congratulations. “For an aging vamp, you’ve totally got it going on.”

My father’s gaze turned red and I seriously debated ducking beneath a nearby chaise longue.

“Why, thank you,” my mother blurted, stepping between Nina and my dad’s piercing glare. “Such a nice compliment, darling, don’t you think?” she asked my father, placing a hand on his arm. “Even the younger vampires are impressed with your wisdom and cunning.”

In addition to being an overbearing mother, Jacqueline Marchette had also perfected her ass-kissing skills. At least where my father was concerned.

She smoothed the collar of his golf shirt.
Pucker up.
“Have I told you how fast you were this evening?”

My father drank in her praise like a thirsty construction worker. His chest puffed out and he pushed his shoulders back. “I was fast, wasn’t I?”