Valentine's Day Sucks (3 page)

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Authors: Michele Bardsley

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In his hands, he held the golden bow.

“Fuck,” said Eros.

Then he disappeared.

SINCE NEITHER BRADY nor Simone had the ability to travel by beam-me-up-vampire-Scottie, we decided that Flet would take Simone, I would take Brady, and Patrick would take Mom.

Once we got that all figured out, we got with the undead atom implosions, and landed inside the Golden Oak Retirement Community.

Poolside.

During a party.

A naked old people party.

Sir-Mix-A-Lot loudly proclaimed his love of big butts, and several partygoers were shaking theirs with enthusiasm. And other body parts were swaying and wiggling and—I let go of Brady and pressed my hands against my face. “My eyes,” I cried. “My eeeeeeyyyeeees.”

“It’s not bad,” muttered Brady.

“We have vampire vision. And immortal memory. I need therapy, STAT.”

“Jessica, my love!” Oh, sweet baby Jesus. That impish Irish brogue belonged to Ruadan, the first vampire in the world, the biological father of Patrick, and my undead father-in-law.

I pressed my hands harder against my eyes. “He’s standing right in front of us, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” said Brady.

“He’s naked, isn’t he?”

“Oh, yes, love. I’m very naked. You should try it. You’re too tense.”

“You have to go away,” I said. “I cannot look at my nude father-in-law.”

“The human body is a beautiful thing, Jess.”

“Dad?”

Patrick’s voice was very near, on the right of me. I felt his arm go around my shoulders, I turned and pressed my face against his chest. I nearly wept with relief.

“Wow.” Simone’s voice filtered through Sir-Mix-A-Lot’s booming rap song. “Ruadan? Jeez, that’s a—oh, hey, honey. I didn’t see you there.”

“Simone!” cried Ruadan. “Good t’ see you!”

“If you hug my wife,” said Brady in the coldest voice I’d ever heard, “you will die.”

“Da, why are you naked?” asked Patrick.

“Everyone’s naked,” said Ruadan. “I didn’t want to be rude and show up with me clothes on.”

“You certainly are fit, Ruadan.” That voice belonged to my mother. I heard her gasp, and realized she’d glanced down at his package. “My goodness.”

“Kill me,” I whispered. “Please.”

“Let’s just find Eros,” said Patrick. If I didn’t know better, I would think panic edged his tone. “Colleen? Shall we go to Arthur’s apartment?”

“Yes. It’s a short walk from here.”

Because my husband loves me, and because he probably didn’t want to pay for my very expensive therapy, he scooped me up and carried me through the crowd.

I refused to open my eyes until he swore that we were standing in front of Arthur’s apartment door and there were no naked people in sight.

Patrick gently put me on my feet, and I opened my eyes. Brady and Simone, now with a freed Flet hovering near her shoulder, were on our left.

Mom knocked on the door. “Arthur?” she called. “It’s me, dear. It’s Colleen.”

“Aaaaaahhhh!” shouted a man.

“Oh, my God! Arthur!”

“Mom, move.”

She stepped out of the way, and I gave the door a shove. It busted off the hinges and fell inward. We all marched inside.

Eros stood in the living room, his bow aimed at a man standing about three feet away. A towel was wrapped around his waist, thank the saints. Arthur had a bit of belly, in cute way I guess, a rather lot of chest hair, a likeable—if not frightened—face, and thinning gray hair. We gathered around Eros, all except my mother, who went to comfort her boyfriend.

“Shot through the heart,” he cried. He pointed at Eros. “And you’re to blame!”

I bumped Eros with my shoulder. “Dude. You give love a bad name.”

Eros blinked, and looked down at me. “You again?” He swiveled around and took in his surroundings. “Shit. What did I do this time?”

“You shot Arthur with your magic love arrows.” I grinned. “That sounds like a porno.”

“You are so odd.”

“Unique,” I said.

“Did he really shoot you, Arthur?” asked Colleen.

“Yes. With a gold arrow that just sank into my chest. It tingled.”

Eros grimaced. “I’m sorry. Look, we can explain—”

Arthur backed up a step, dragging my mother with him, and held up both hands. His eyes went red and he flashed his fangs. “I don’t want any trouble!”

His towel dropped to the floor.

And I was suddenly staring at the penis of my potential step-father.

I studied his package … well, because I couldn’t not look at it. Don’t judge. You’d do the same thing.

“Hey, Artie,” I said. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

“
BUT WEREN’T WE already falling in love?” asked Arthur. He’d made a concession to us clothed folks by putting on a pair of shorts. We sat around his dining room table drinking bourbon as we filled him in Flet’s disastrous attempt at fulfilling wishes and poor Eros’ forced compliance in said wishes.

“Maybe you were,” slurred Flet. He sat on the edge of a shot glass, dipping his hand into the bourbon. “But she wasn’t.”

Arthur frowned. He turned and took Mom’s hands in his. “You’re not sure about us? Even after last night?”

“Last night?” I asked. “What happened last night?”

“None of your business, young lady,” said Mom.

“I’ve already seen Artie’s penis,” I said. “So it’s okay to admit you two had sex.”

Mom’s jaw went slack. “We didn’t actually … do it.”

“We’re not bound,” said Arthur. “But still, Colleen, your daughter has a point.”

And I really wanted to say, No, Artie, apparently you had the point, but Patrick put his hand on my leg and squeezed.

Keep it up, love, and your mother will ground you.

You mean, stake me. Okay, okay. I’ll be good.

You’re a darlin’ liar, you are.

I smiled.

“I have to admit, Arthur, that I starting thinking about our differences. I’m human, and you’re a vampire. You’ll stay sixty-six forever, and I will just keep getting older.” She brought a hand to her face, a still beautiful face even with its laugh lines and wrinkles. “I know I could try to Turn … but I just don’t know. And how could you want me if we have so little time left together? And what if … if I die … and you’re bound to me … you know that’s not going to be easy.”

“I don’t care. I cherish every minute with you,” said Arthur. “I didn’t get a choice about Turning, but I understand your dilemma. Just be with me, Colleen. We’ll figure it out.”

Mom looked torn. I could tell she wanted to leap, to be in love, and to be with a partner. With Arthur, she wouldn’t be alone anymore, and she would have a partner. For however long that may be—whether it was another twenty years or it was forever.

“Choose love,” I told her. “You should always choose love.”

Mom smiled at me, her eyes bright with tears. Then she leaned over and gave Arthur a gentle kiss. “Okay,” she said. “I’m yours.”

“Wish granted!” said Flet, lifting both arms in a motion of triumph. “I rule!” He fell backward, off the shot glass, and splattered on the table. Gold glitter puffed out.

Then he was still.

A tiny snore emitted from his tiny nose.

“He’s passed out,” said Simone. “I think that’s our cue to go home.”

“Ours, too,” said Patrick.

We all stood up and said our good-byes. I was the last to hug my mother. She kissed my cheek, and said, “Thank you.”

“I love you,” I said.

“Love you, too.”

Eros was still in his pink suit, but his bow had disappeared. He walked with us as far as the courtyard.

“It’s been an interesting experience,” he said. “I think I’ve been retired long enough. It’s time to come back to the world of humans, and help them find love.”

“Lots of people find love,” I said. “Why do you think they need your help?”

“Because they’re humans,” said Eros. “Stubborn, irrational creatures. Besides, mother’s been so bored lately she would probably leap at the chance to do some matchmaking.”

“Good luck to you then,” said Patrick, offering his hand. “Let us know if you need help.”

“And the same goes for you,” said Eros, shaking my husband’s hand. “Jessica. It’s been … enlightening.”

“Thanks. Um, before you go, I just gotta know—do you pee?”

Eros laughed. “Oh, yes. Gods and goddesses pee—we pee champagne.” He put a finger to the dimple in his chin. “And we poop rainbows.” He winked at me—and disappeared.

I glanced at Patrick. “He’s joking, right?”

Patrick shrugged.

“Oh, c’mon,” I said. “You cannot tell me that rainbows appear because gods are somewhere in the sky taking a shit.”

“Why not?” asked Patrick. “Now, do you want to continue this conversation or—” He held out his hands and a familiar gold box appeared in them. Godiva. My favorite chocolates. Yay! “—do you want to go home and celebrate Valentine’s Day?”

“I want you,” I said, taking his offering and standing on my tippy toes to kiss him.

“Ta gra agam duit, céadsearc.”

I smiled against his lips. “Back at you, babe.”

The End

(Sorta. It’s never really the end with Broken Heart.)

ABOUT MICHELE BARDSLEY

Michele Bardsley is a national bestselling author of paranormal, romance, and mystery fiction. She lives in Texas with her husband (The Viking), four dogs, two cats, and nine finches. She loves “Supernatural,” chocolate, crocheting hats, and spending time with her husband.

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OTHER TITLES BY MICHELE BARDSLEY

THE BROKEN HEART VAMPIRE SERIES

Humorous Paranormal Romances

I’m the Vampire, That’s Why