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“Like I’m going to play games of strategy with you under the influence of opiates.” I snorted.
“Well, it’s not like you’d win without the influence of opiates,” she observed dryly.
“Scrabble it is,” I decided.
“Go fetch the board from my car, won’t you, Mr. Dodd?” Ophelia asked sweetly. “And on your way back, be sure to stop by the cafeteria to bring Iris a nice human breakfast. I’m sure she’s hungry.”
The grumpy, chastened vampire loped out the door with a resentful glance over his shoulder. Part of me felt sorry for Mr. Dodd, who would be vomiting Jell-O and broth for the next few days.
I got over it.
18
Remember to keep in contact with the “daytime world.” Go to work. Answer your friends’ e-mails. One day, your vampire guest will leave your house, and you want to have a life to go back to.
—The Care and Feeding of Stray Vampires
I closed the front door behind me with a snick and leaned my head against it. One more day down. Until what? I had no idea, which was sort of depressing. I just knew that I’d survived another day.
I dropped my messenger bag by the table, wincing at the effort it took from my still-tender muscles. I was healing. Stairs were still difficult. Gigi had sweet-talked Ben into helping me during my first few days back at work. It stung my pride, but I couldn’t lift anything heavier than ten pounds with my shattered shoulder. With tales of my “heroic efforts” to help Cal through his ordeal spreading through the undead gossip circuit, referrals had tripled. I needed Ben’s help. Plus, I’d had to hire Jolene as my full-time assistant and apply for a loan on a second Dorkmobile.
Cal had been gone for nearly a month. I’d come home from the hospital to find the house empty, his tent neatly folded in the basement. He’d left a fangwort flower pressed between the last pages of my mother’s cutting journal. And that was it.
I wasn’t keeping track of the thirty-two days since he’d made love to me. I hadn’t marked the thirty days since I’d told him I didn’t want to be a vampire like him. And I certainly wasn’t aware that it had been two weeks since I’d had any sort of update from Ophelia. Despite being grateful for my assistance, she didn’t seem to think it was healthy for me to continually check on Cal’s progress in closing the investigation.
Time was the enemy, but it was all I had. Gigi was set to graduate from high school in a week. She’d attended the prom with Ben, wearing a gorgeous yellow strapless gown that set off her dark hair beautifully. Ben had arranged for a wrist corsage consisting of yellow gladioli. Gigi had rolled her eyes but accepted it gracefully, particularly after I pulled her aside and told her that the flowers symbolized infatuation. To receive a gladiolus implied that the recipient had pierced the giver’s heart with passion. Gigi had pinked up prettily, while I prayed that Cal’s “pepper spray” lecture had been effective.
Gigi had decided on the University of Kentucky, where she planned to major in nursing. Watching the staff at the hospital take care of me had had a profound impact on her. And it didn’t hurt that Ben was majoring in information systems there. She had a roommate lined up. She was collecting towels and sheets and the dolphin posters required to decorate her dorm room. After August 1, I would be an empty-nester, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
Somehow I didn’t think that working more hours was going to be a big comfort to me. Maybe Mr. Rychek could tell me where he got Diandra’s hypoallergenic cat.
Returning to a darkened, empty house was something I needed to get used to. I sighed, dropping my purse onto the hall table and trying to remember what I had in the fridge. Jolene had organized some sort of casserole brigade among her aunts to feed us while I was laid up. For days, we’d gorged on meatloaf, pot pie, chicken-and-rice casserole, and pasta salad, none of which appealed at the moment. But making dinner for just myself was a singularly depressing thought. And eating Jujubes for dinner, though appealing, couldn’t be responsible. Maybe I needed to consider one of those sad, single-lady “dinners for one” cookbooks.
I didn’t bother turning on the lights as I made my way to the kitchen. The house was spotlessly clean. I’d gone into a sort of dusting frenzy the previous week, as it was one of the few household chores I was allowed. Gigi mastered the heavier tasks but did mention that she was glad the dorm had a cleaning staff. I planned to let her figure out that meant that the main hallways and communal bathrooms were cleaned, not individual rooms.
I set my cell phone on the kitchen counter. My foot caught on something on the floor, and I went flailing down. “Yipe!” I shrieked as I fell on top of something rather firm and smelling of leather and oak moss.
“We have got to stop meeting like this,” Cal’s voice said, all smug and cool as I struggled to pull my face out of his chest. “We are terrible at staying away from each other, Miss Scanlon.”
I righted myself, pushing up on my elbows so I could see his happy, relaxed face. He was fully recovered. His face had filled out a little, and his color was even. He’d lost that tired look around the eyes. He trailed his fingers over the ridge of my cheekbone, stroking the skin reverently. “Iris, aren’t you going to say anything?”
Oh, I had plenty to say.
“You prick!” I yelled, smacking out at him. “You jackass! You moron! You insufferable, arrogant ass-monkey!”
“Ass-monkey?” He chuckled, catching my wrists and holding off my blows. “I see you’ve gotten past your reluctance to curse. I don’t think ‘ass-monkey’ is a word, by the way.”
“It is now! I just made it up!” I brought my knee up so I could catch his balls.
Or I would have if he hadn’t dodged. Stupid lightning-quick vampire reflexes.
He dodged my kick, caressing my thigh as he gently forced my leg into a less injurious position. He nuzzled my throat. “Well, as an insult, it’s highly effective, so congratulations.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing here, lying on my kitchen floor?” I demanded. “And by the way, did you get your sword back? I think I should have asked that before I started beating on you.”
“Yes, I got it back.” He drew his hands over my hair, drawing me closer. “And I’m down here because I wanted to start over. So I came back to where we started, so to speak. I couldn’t figure out a way to get you to my kitchen floor without tipping you off.”
“Did they medicate you heavily while you were gone? I mean, they had plenty of time to get the dosage right.”
