12

T ess

I sang when I cleaned, before somebody with Superior Tiger Hearing moved in with me and made pained faces when he heard me.

Okay, I wasn’t the best singer, but I was certainly one of the most enthusiastic. And Lou liked my singing.

“Don’t you, Lou? Lou?”

When I found my cat burrowed beneath not only my blanket, but my pillow, too, I tried not to take it personally.

My phone buzzed. I expected Jack with news, but it was Carlos. Susan’s vampire brother was supermodel gorgeous, an important person on the vampire high council, and a good friend of mine. But it was daytime. He should have been sleeping.

“How are you awake? It’s three in the afternoon!”

“Very carefully.”

“How do two porcupines make love?”

“What?”

“Very carefully!” I cracked up.

Silence from his end.

“See, because they have quills, and?—”

“I understand the joke,” Carlos said. “It’s just not?—”

“It’s totally funny.”

“Tess. You’re in danger. Maybe we should talk about the werewolves and leave the porcupine jokes for later?”

I thought about it. “Nah. What kind of wolf knows she’s a wolf?”

“ What ?”

“A werewolf!”

Silence.

“Get it? Aware wolf, A W A R E wolf.”

He sighed. “Okay, I give up. Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“How do police catch vampires? With stake-outs. What do you call twin vampires? Dead ringers. What’s a vampire’s favorite fruit? Neck-tarine. What did the vampire say when he looked in the mirror? Long time, no see.”

“Stop!” I was laughing so hard I was crying. “You have to stop. I can’t breathe.”

“What’s a vampire’s favorite TV show? Big Fang Theory.”

I sank down on the couch, holding onto my side. “Okay. Okay. I get it. Stop.”

“How many real vampires are there? None, unless you count Dracula.”

“Hey! Did he really exist? Count Dracula?”

“That’s what you want to talk about when dead bodies keep showing up in your garage?”

“Okay, first, ‘keep showing up’ is exaggerating. This is the first. Second, even if there was once a vampire named Count Dracula, he’s long gone, which makes him much less scary than garage murderers.”

Silence again.

“Oh, no. Dracula’s not dead?”

“I don’t think we should focus on unpleasant details, Tess.”

“Carlos, I will never make pecan pie for you again unless you tell me the truth.”

“Who knows? There have been rumors. Sightings. But there have been sightings of Elvis, too.”

I sigh. “You didn’t call me when you should be sleeping to talk about Elvis.”

“Or Vlad Dracul. But conversations often take left turns with you.”

“How are things with Bram’s? How’s Trinity doing?”

“My Orlando nightclub is doing fine, and I’m sure Trinity would love to see you. You and I should go dancing there one night.”

This time, I was silent.

“Tess?”

“Um. Are you hitting on me, Carlos?”

The way he burst out laughing wasn’t all that flattering.

“Tess. Even if I weren’t involved with someone, and even if I didn’t cherish our friendship enough not to want to risk it, I quite like my neck.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to wake up one evening with a tiger’s fangs in my throat.”

“There you go, exaggerating again. What’s up, Carlos?”

“I just want to warn you: do not find yourself alone with Sheriff Reynolds. He’s a killer.”

“Funny. He said the same thing about you.”

“I’m a vampire,” he said, his voice turning dark and smoky. “It goes with the territory. But I haven’t killed anyone recently, and I never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

“Okaaaay. But I promise I’m being careful. What about you? Do you—are you safe when you’re asleep during the day?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m making pecan pie. Why don’t you come over for a late dinner once it’s dark? Jack was planning to go with Lizzie to the full moon run with the Riverton pack to help her learn how to shift, but I don’t know if that’s still on.”

I was wondering why I hadn’t heard from Jack recently. It made me nervous, since there were killers about.

“I’ll be there at eight-fifteen. Sunset is at eight oh six.”

“Ooh! How do you know that? Is it from your supernatural vampire senses?”

“Weather dot com.”

“Huh.”

“I’ll see you soon, Tess. Lock your doors, please.”

We hung up, and I locked my doors. I also checked my rifle. I’d practiced enough, so I was quite good with it. The killer from last night had better not show his face around here again.

When the doorbell rang an hour later, it was Sheriff Reynolds, and he was alone.

He was also armed.