Authors: Kimberly Raye
Tags: #General, #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction
While Jacqueline Marchette considered herself many things—devoted mother, supportive wife, heartless bitch (at least when it came to fighting for a parking space at the monthly meeting of the Connecticut Huntress Club)—a “girl” wasn’t one of them. And no one ever—
ever
—called her Jackie. Her gaze grew dangerously dark.
“Why, thank you, dear,” she said with tight lips. “What an interesting way to phrase something.” She shoved a drink in my hand and turned to fill another glass. Her knuckles were white on the bottle and I waited for the explosion of crimson.
Surprisingly, she managed to hold her temper and play the proper hostess. She passed out glass after glass as quickly as possible—blood for us vamps and a watermelon martini for Mandy.
We’d just settled onto the sofa to enjoy our refreshments when my mother plucked the glass out of my hand.
“But I wasn’t—” I started, but she cut me off.
“Would you look at the time?” She reached for the next glass…
Pluck.
“We’d better wrap this up.”
Pluck. Pluck.
“I have a huntress club meeting in less than fifteen minutes.”
“But you met last week,” Rob protested, staring longingly after the drink she carted away from him.
“We’re meeting again this week.” She set the glasses down and recorked the bottle.
“But you only meet once a month.” Rob wasn’t giving up. I didn’t blame him. I could feel the pain radiating from him. He needed sustenance.
“It’s an emergency,” she told him.
“It’s a social club.”
“It’s a social emergency.” She cut him a glare. “Marge Ellen Weisenbocker’s daughter is getting engaged. To a werewolf. Marge is beside herself.” She stared pointedly at Jack, who gazed adoringly at Mandy. “She knows that a mixed commitment can never work.”
“I wouldn’t say never.” Did I just say that? “Francis and Melissa are making things work.” Oh, no, that
was
me. I clamped my lips shut. I was
not
saying another word. My mother had already shifted her full attention from Jack to yours truly. “It’s not easy, but it
is
possible. He hasn’t bitten and made her yet, but they’ve already decided they’re perfect for each other. I’m sure the rest is inevitable.”
“Time to go,” she ground out.
“Now.”
Her gaze lingered on me. “I’ll speak with you later, Lilliana.”
Black, here I come.
She herded everyone toward the front door. Just as Jack was about to escort Mandy out onto the front step, my mother clamped a hand around his arm. “Dear, I need you to drive me over.”
“I’ll drive you over,” my father said, coming up be hind her.
“I need Jack.” She tugged my brother away from Mandy. “He can drive me in the Hummer. He loves the Hummer,” she told Mandy. “Don’t you, dear?”
“I guess—”
“Jacqueline,” my father cut off Jack’s response, “I may not be as young as I used to be, but I’m perfectly capable of driving you over to your meeting in a timely manner.”
“I’m sure you are, dear,” her gaze drilled into Dad, “but I would really like Jack to drive me. I never get the chance to spend any time with him. We need to talk more. To connect.”
The moment my mother said the last word, under standing lit my father’s expression. FYI—in addition to never winning, my mother never used the word
connect.
Not when it came to emotional stuff.
“Oh, right.” Dad did his best imitation of a fanged bobblehead. “Jack should drive you.” He clapped my brother on the back. “He handles the Hummer like a real champ. Don’t you, son?”
“Well, I—”
“Your friend,” my mother cut in, referring to a startled Mandy, “can catch a ride back to the city with Lil.”
I opened my mouth to point out the fact that I was wanted for a felony.
Playing escort to my brother’s latest squeeze and making myself even more visible by crawling into the back of a cab might not be the smartest thing to do.
I snapped it back shut. Hey, why ruin a good thing?
“I’ve already called,” my mother added. “There’s a car waiting.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I grabbed Mandy’s arm, hauled her outside and down the front walk. “Later.”
“T
hey like me,” Mandy declared once we’d climbed into the cab and given the driver our destination. “They
really
like me.”
“How many watermelon martinis did you have?”
“Just one. Well, a quarter of one. Your mother sort of rushed us out of there. Not that I don’t understand. I totally do. She’s a busy woman and extremely conscientious.” She smiled. “That’s two for me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Two things we have in common. Being conscientious and reliable. I’m both.” She smiled. “We’re going to be like two peas in a pod.”
Maybe an alien pod.
“I can’t believe I was so worried,” she went on. “Jack and I both were, but I think everything went really well. I mean, except for your brother getting hit and kicked. But otherwise, I think it was probably typical of your usual family get-together.”
Okay. I don’t like to be the bearer of bad news, but I felt it my responsibility to clue this girl in on what she was up against. I mean,
I
would want to know if the love of my life’s mother completely and totally hated my guts.
“Mandy.”
“To think I actually bit off an entire manicure worrying over this meeting.”
“Mandy.”
“And I ate an entire box of Oreo cookies.”
“Code blue!”
She snapped to attention. Her gaze collided with mine. “What? What is it?” Worry flashed in her eyes and my chest hitched. “What’s wrong?”
“I…That’s a really cool shade of lipstick.” I know, I know. I shouldn’t be perpetuating the lie. But she would find out the truth soon enough, particularly when my parents showed up for tea tomorrow. If they showed up. In the meantime, what was wrong with a little hope? “So what is it? Sephora’s Natural Wonder? MAC’s Earth Works?”
“Mandy’s Natural Lip Color.”
Oh.
She smiled. “I don’t wear much makeup. I don’t usually have time for it.” She glanced at her watch. “I took tomorrow off for the tea. It’s my first day off in four years. Jack suggested I just take a half day, but I want us to have plenty of time to celebrate once the parents meet and we tell them that we’re getting married.”
“WHAT?”
Her face lit up. “I wasn’t supposed to spill the news, but I’m so excited I just can’t help myself. I have to tell
someone.
” Her gaze collided with mine and I saw Jack poised on one knee, an engagement ring the size of a third world country in his right hand.
“
Engaged
? No way!” She nodded and I couldn’t help my own smile even though I knew this was the worst possible thing that could happen as far as my mother was concerned.
Then again.
My smile widened.
“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she rushed on, as she rummaged in her purse and pulled out the Third World country. She slid the ring onto her finger and held up her hand. “You won’t tell him I told you, will you? We agreed to tell our parents first. Together.” She clasped her hand to her chest and gave me a pleading look.
“My lips are sealed.”
Not to mention that Jack and I haven’t had an actual conversation since…I don’t think we’d ever had an actual conversation. Name-calling, yes. But nothing that qualified as an actual exchange of relevant information.
“I can’t wait for tomorrow.” She fanned her fingers and the ring glittered in the darkness. “It’s going to be the most thrilling day of my life. I mean, other than the day I got engaged. And the day Jack rolled into the morgue. And last Thursday when he and I rented this suite at the Waldorf. We took a champagne bath together and rolled around on a bed full of rose petals and read poetry to each other.”
“That’s, um, sweet.” In a gross way. The guy
was
my brother.
“My parents are going to be ecstatic,” she rushed on. “And I’m sure your parents will be thrilled, too. Who wouldn’t want their five-hundred-and-thirty-five-year-old son to finally settle down?”
When I started to open my mouth, she held up a hand. “I know I’m not a born vampire and I’m not exactly French, but I’m a nice girl. I’m from a good family. An old family. We’ve been around
forever,
so it’s kind of like we’re immortal. We’ve played crucial roles in several key events in history and have even been mentioned in several history books.”
“You don’t say?”
She nodded. “My great, great, great, great grandfather came over on the
Mayflower
and my great, great, great, great uncle Radcliffe rode with Paul Revere, and my great, great, great aunt Millicent was burned at the stake during the Salem witch trials and—”
“Whoa, back it up. What did you just say?”
“My family can be traced all the way back to the
Mayflower.
” She radiated pride.
“Not that part. The other part.”
“Uncle Radcliffe?”
“Fast forward.”
“Aunt Millicent?”
“Bingo.”
“I was saving that surprise for tomorrow.” Her smile widened and a sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. “It turns out I’m not so human after all. They say my aunt Millicent was one of the most powerful witches of her time and since I’m her direct descendant, that means I have Other DNA flowing through my veins. Not that I know how to cast a spell or anything like that. The closest I’ve ever come is watching reruns of
Charmed
. But still, it’s something, right?” She beamed. “I can’t wait to tell your folks. They’re going to flip!”
“They’re going to flip, all right.” I had the sudden vision of my mother, fangs bared, going for Mandy’s silken white throat, and panic rushed through me.
Not your business,
a voice whispered.
The same voice that said
better you than me
when it came to my mother’s wrath.
Still. We’re talking
fangs,
and just because of a little DNA glitch.
“You know, Mandy, you might want to keep that little piece of information to yourself. You’re a terrific girl. Smart. Attractive.”
“Really attractive,” the cabbie added from the front seat. He flashed a smile in the mirror. “Sorry, it’s just that you’re really pretty. And so are you.” His gaze shifted to me.
“Uh, thanks.” Not. “Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yeah. Attractive. And outgoing. And fun loving.”
“And an award winner,” she added. “I’ve been Neighbor of the Month for six months in a row. I’m never home and so it’s impossible for me to disturb anyone.”
“A multiple award winner,” I added. “And smart.”
“You already said that.”
“Did I?” I shook my head. “My point is, you’ve got it going on. You know it. Everyone knows it. So what’s the use of bragging?”
Excitement faded into worry. “You really think it would sound like bragging?”
I nodded. “And who needs it? I mean, my folks already love you, right?” It’s not like I was
saying
they loved her, or even implying it. I was posing a question.
I slid my hand down next to me and crossed my fingers anyway.
“You really think they
love
me? I know they like me. But love?” Hope filled her gaze as it met mine and my chest hitched again.
My mouth opened on its own. “Sure, they do.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “As for tomorrow, don’t worry about a thing. They’ll be thrilled.”
I was
so
going to hell for this if I ever got staked.
Or jail.
A strobe of red and blue lights cracked open the blackness just up ahead. A uniformed police officer appeared in the blaze of headlights and motioned for us to stop.
Uh-oh.
I
t’s okay, I told myself, my heart pounding, my gaze transfixed by the dizzying mix of red and blue that swirled atop the squad car that sat off to the side of the road.
Okay, okay,
okay.
It’s just the police.
On the corner of my parents’ street. In the middle of the night. While I’m on the run for murder.
This was so
not
okay.