Bite of Envy (Just One Bite #4) (9 page)

When Lizbeth pulled her car to a stop in front of the Cape
Cod-style house she called her home, she couldn't help but grin at the look of
awe on Sandy's face. "I remember the first time I pulled up in front of
this house," she said softly. "All I could think was how I didn't
belong here. Now I can't imagine how I ever lived anywhere else."

Sandy turned a considering eye her way, but then simply
nodded. She didn't need to ask if Lizbeth meant it. Her tone rang with
sincerity. She hoped Diandra knew how lucky she was to have Liz as her lover-
walking away from her had probably been one of the biggest mistakes she'd ever
made in her life, and she didn't regret much in her past. However, she wasn't
one to poach, and Lizbeth had made it clear that she didn't just love Diandra,
but was in love with her as well. She'd keep her regrets to herself, she
thought as she climbed out of the beat-up Nissan and grabbed her purse and
laptop. Lizbeth had already opened the trunk and reached in for the two duffel
bags that she was sure would provide her with more than enough clothing and supplies
to get by for a few days. Taking a bolstering breath, she prepared to meet the
family Lizbeth had made for herself.

Diandra was waiting anxiously at the door. She was thrilled
that Lizzie had brought Sandra with her, but she was also nervous. It wasn't
long ago that her insecurities were written over, but the scars remained and
the old fears bubbled just below the surface. She knew this was the right thing
to do, but part of her feared that having her here would upset their delicate
home life. She certainly hated that it would upset the ease with which they
lived their vampiric lifestyle, but sacrifices had to be made to keep Sandra
safe. That was certainly more important than hiding behind a façade of humanity
for a little while.

Lizbeth walked in, setting Sandra's bags by the staircase.
Walking over, she leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Dia's lips. As she
pulled back, she whispered "Thank you" so softly she knew no one but
Dia would hear her. Wrapping her arm gently around Diandra's waist, Lizbeth
turned towards Sandy. "Sandra Willis, meet Diandra Malone," she said
proudly.

Sandy's eyes grew huge as she shook Diandra's hand.
"Jonah Malone's widow," she said in surprise, turning wide green eyes
to Lizbeth. "I knew that you found his…" she stopped herself,
wincing. Turning back to Diandra, she hung her head, shame filling her face.
"I'm terribly sorry, how rude of me. I meant to say, thank you so much for
inviting me into your home. I hate bringing my troubles to your doorstep."

Diandra studied the woman's bowed head for a moment, then
let out a light laugh. "No worries at all, Sandra. He's been a thorn in
our side for some time now. You're not bringing any trouble that we didn't
already have. We will stop him."

The simply stated assurance brought Sandra's eyes flashing
up to meet her own. "You sound so sure of that, and I have to wonder what
I'm missing." Intelligence and bull dog tenacity had replaced the shame
and curiosity now, and Dia wasn't surprised by it at all. She knew Lizbeth
wouldn't settle for anything less than a sharp mind, and the pretty little girl
features that Sandra sported were as deceiving as Lizbeth's own porcelain doll
looks.

"You're not missing anything of any real
importance," Diandra lied with ease. "I'm just confident that we can
stop him, simply because of how over-confident he's become. He treats this
whole thing like a joke, and taunts Lizbeth with bodies and middle of the night
phone calls. A man that arrogant slips up, always. It doesn't matter how sure
he is of himself. Let him be cocky- he'll just fuck up all the quicker,"
she finished, and Sandra let out a bark of laughter at the profanity dripping
from the lips of a woman who looked like a runway model in a simple black dress
and ballet flats.

"I'll show you to one of the bedrooms to get situated,
and then you can come meet everyone else, if you'd like to," Lizbeth said,
smiling at the look on Sandy's face when Diandra swore. She didn't do it often,
but as Lizzie had a tendency to sound like a trucker, well, it was bound to rub
off a little, she supposed.

Sandy smiled as she gathered up her supplies again and
turned laughing eyes to Diandra. "I'm very happy to meet you," she
said, sincerity evident in her tone as she followed Lizbeth up the stairs.

Diandra waited until Sandra was out of sight before
releasing an uneasy breath she wasn't aware she'd even been holding. Maybe this
wouldn't be as awkward as she thought, and that pleased her. She turned towards
the kitchen where Adrian fussed over the coffee, preparing a tray to bring in
to them. "Oh no, you don't," she teased him, making him jump and let
out a very unmanly squeal of surprise. "You're a member of this convoluted
family, too, so don't go acting like you're just the hired help while she's
here. Lizzie included you as a member of the family, so you'll act like you usually
do. She's a guest, yes, but you matter a Hell of a lot more."

Adrian grinned. "Yes, ma'am," he teased right back
at her, swatting her leg gently with a dishtowel he had draped over his shoulder.
He picked up the tray, following Dia into the parlor where they sat down with
their coffee and waited for Lizbeth and Sandra to make an appearance.

"Liz, I didn't expect all of this," Sandy
breathed, surprised pleasure written large all over her pretty face as she took
in the lush surroundings. Her guest bedroom had recently been redone, she could
tell, but it felt so homey and comfortable. Hell, it was certainly a far cry
from the sterile apartment she called home. It was just a place to bed down for
the night, and occasionally to throw together a meal.

Looking around the room she'd be making her own for the next
bit of time, she sighed with pure envy. Now this, this was a room to live in. A
place to set up picture frames next to the plotted plants. A place to lay out
her cosmetics on the antique table with the lighted mirror made for that
purpose. There was an oak armoire in the corner for her to hang her clothes,
just begging to be used. And when she walked through to the adjoining bathroom,
she let out a sigh of pure bliss. Candles everywhere around the sunken tub,
plants giving off a pleasant odor, the room so luxurious that it seemed to
belong in the penthouse of some high-rise, not a pretty Cape Cod home in
Bethany Beach.

"Lizbeth, this is just… there are no words to say how
amazing this place truly is. You're very blessed," Sandra said softly,
unable to meet Lizbeth's eyes as tears fell from her own, rolling down her pale
cheeks and leaving tracks through her makeup.

Lizzie walked over and took a tissue from a box on the sink,
gently blotting away the tears. "Why are you crying?" she asked, her
tone as gentle as her hands as she guided Sandra out of the bedroom and sat
gently with her on the bed. Sandra was tough- she didn't cry easily, as she saw
it as a sign of weakness. A big-shot reporter shouldn't cry, she often told
Lizzie back in their days together. A reporter struggling to make a name can't
be seen as weak, or the others will be all over her like vultures circling a
wounded animal. To show her tears now meant two things- she trusted Lizbeth
like she trusted no other, and her emotions were simply too strong to be held
back any longer.

Sandra looked up at her through glistening lashes, then
hastily back down at her feet. "I came here with you, partly for safety,
partly for curiosity, and partly because I hoped to see some chink in your
life, some place I could wedge myself into and whisk you away from this. I
wanted you back, consequences be damned. I couldn't accept that you could be
happy without me. It hurt my heart, but it hurt my pride more." She
flushed, color rising back into a face that had been void of it moments before.
"I'm ashamed of that now. I see how truly happy you are here. This is your
home, and your new life. I won't interfere in it. Perhaps it would be best if I
leave," she finished in a rush, turning to pick up her bags and do just
that.

Lizbeth grabbed her arms, stilling her frantic movements.
"No," she said simply. "You're at risk out there. I can't
explain so you'll understand, but there's nowhere safer for you than right
here, with us, in this house. Diandra, Eamon and I can keep you safer than
anyone else could." When Sandra sat back down beside her, she firmed her
tone and locked her eerie blue eyes onto Sandy's green ones. "But make no
mistake about this. Diandra and RaeLynn are my world now, and I won't allow my
old feelings for you to wreck what I have with them. This is my life, my home, this
is everything to me. If you cannot respect that, you will have to leave. I
won't save your life at the expense of my own," she finished, voice hard
and eyes harder.

Sandra looked down and gulped audibly. "I
understand," she whispered, and the honesty in those two words told
Lizbeth that she knew and understood, and that there would be no games played
between them.

"Good," Lizbeth said, standing and pulling Sandra
to her feet. "Then let's go downstairs and have some coffee. We'll talk
about Carson, and see what we can do to stop him and keep you safe."

"Well, I suppose that could have gone better,"
Lizbeth said with a groan of frustration as she and Diandra tumbled into bed
that night. She grabbed the pillow, growled into it, and then placed it over
her face, effectively shutting herself away from the conversation before it had
begun.

Dia just laughed at her antics as she slid her robe off and
climbed into bed beside her lover. "Oh, now, it wasn't that bad… after a
little while. She was awkward and nervous, and who wouldn't be? It's not like
you took it easy on her either," she scolded Lizzie halfheartedly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lizbeth shot back,
pulling the pillow off of her face and tucking it behind her head once more.
She climbed back off the bed and removed her own robe before sliding under the
covers and rolling over to face Dia.

Diandra smiled at Lizbeth and leaned in to kiss her cheek
lovingly. "It means you didn't have to wrap yourself around me the whole
time. You could have been a bit more sympathetic for her feelings."

But Lizzie shook her head. "No, I couldn't have. First
of all, I didn't do it to rub it in- I did it because I wanted to. I wasn't
going to change the way I act around you to keep from offending her
sensibilities. And second, I know her." She looked deep into Diandra's
eyes, making sure she had her full attention. "Sandy may seem like a
sweetie, and she gave me the 'I can let you go knowing that you're happy'
speech today, but that's all bullshit. She's like a shark, scenting for blood
in the water. If she'd not seen us like that, she would have assumed things
aren't great between us and tried to come between us."

Diandra laughed. "Really, Lizzie, it can't be as bad as
all that," she protested, but her laughter trickled into silence at the
serious expression on Lizbeth's face.

"You don't know her," Lizbeth said simply, and Dia
knew she meant every word. "Sandra Willis makes a game out of breaking up
couples. I don't know if it makes her feel better about herself or if she
really thinks she wants the person she's gunning for, and it truly doesn't
matter. All that matters is that she stays safe, we stop Carson, we give her as
little information as possible for her fucking story, and then we go our
separate ways."

Diandra wrapped her arms around Lizbeth and drew her close.
"Mm, sounds good to me, baby," she said, and they spoke no more that
night.

Sandra drew back from their bedroom door with a muffled sob.
She'd heard everything with crystal clarity, and her heart was shattered inside
her aching chest. Her phone had rung a little while ago, and she was surprised
to find herself talking to Giles Carson. He was smooth, she'd give him that,
and he didn't bat an eye as far as she could tell when she accused him flat out
of murdering Heather. He coolly denied it, and offered to give her an
interview, telling his side of the story. "Really, Ms. Willis, you're
ready to paint me in a bad light in the press, and you haven't even attempted
to hear me out. Ms. Snyder and I have a rather… sordid history, and I'd like to
tell you the truth. Will you meet me at Afterlife in about an hour?"

Sandra checked her watch and saw it was approaching eleven
already. "I don't even know where that is," she admitted, both eager
and reluctant to meet with him. She could smell the story, knew it would be a
great one, but feared becoming a headline herself.

Carson gave her the address and she finally agreed to meet
with him, but she knew she would send Lizbeth and Diandra in her stead. She
didn't think it was in her best interest to go by herself, not after promising
them to stay put. But after she ended the call she went to their bedroom and
overheard what she clearly was never meant to.

Sandy sniffled, wiping away the tears as her brain worked
overtime. Her mother had always warned her that you never overheard anything
nice about yourself if you listened in to other people's conversations, she
thought ruefully as she quickly changed into a sleek black top, black leggings
and a pair of heeled black boots. Throwing her purse over her shoulder, she
checked to make sure that there were extra tapes to go with her recorder, and
she slipped down the stairs as silently as possible, and right out the front
door. She ran to her car, put it in neutral, and gave it a push start, sliding
quietly down the driveway. As the tires hit the road, she turned the engine
over and laughed a bit to herself, thankful for all the times she pulled this
stunt as a teenager, sneaking out to meet her girlfriends after her parents
were asleep.