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An obscene amount of money would provide enough of a cushion that I might be able to sleep for more than a handful of hours per night. Mr. Calix slid to the floor, apparently drained by the effort of playing purse keep-away.
“How obscene?” I asked, coughing suddenly to chase the meek note from my voice.
“Ten thousand dollars for a week.”
I quickly calculated the estimate to replace the aging pipes in my house, plus Gigi’s first-semester tuition and the loan payment due next month, against what the Council paid even the lowliest of its underlings. I shook my head and made a counteroffer. “Twenty-five thousand.”
“Fifteen thousand.”
I pursed my lips. “I’m still saying twenty-five thousand.”
“Which means you never quite learned how negotiating works.”
It was a struggle, tensing my lips enough to avoid smirking. “How badly do you want to get off that floor, Mr. Calix?”
He grumbled. “Done.”
“One week,” I said as I knelt in front of him, my voice firmer than I would have thought possible under the circumstances. “That means seven nights. Not seven days and eight nights. Not seven and a half nights. Seven nights.”
“Done.”
“Excellent.” I gave him my sunniest “professional” smile and offered my hand for a shake.
“Don’t push it,” he muttered, closing his eyes.
I sighed, pulling my cell phone out of my bag to call Gigi. I wasn’t going to make that booster meeting, after all.
2
The first rule of caring for a stray vampire: Don’t tell anyone you’re taking care of a stray vampire.
—The Care and Feeding of Stray Vampires
The moment I started dialing the phone, his hand snaked out and smacked it away. My precious BlackBerry shattered against the kitchen wall into splinters of black plastic. I shrieked indignantly, my mouth agape as I watched the shards tinkle to the ground.
He killed my phone. He ruthlessly murdered my phone! Mother … fudger.
My phone was my lifeline, my tether to my clients. It was what kept me available for their needs, their wants, each and every whim. I never ignored a call. Ever. If I wasn’t able to answer, hair-trigger frustration and undead diva temperaments could lead to lost business. Lost business meant lost income, and lost income meant … I fought the rising panic clawing at my throat.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” I seethed.
“I said you couldn’t call anyone.” He wheezed, as the effort to bat my phone into shrapnel had apparently cost him some energy.
“I was calling my sister to let her know not to come home tonight,” I said. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting her walk through the door unless I know you’re … house-trained.” He snarled at that, pulling his lip back from sharp white teeth, but he remained quiet. I supposed that expecting an apology for the pulverized phone was futile, so I continued. “You’re replacing that phone, by the way. And if I didn’t have backup assistance to replace all of my contacts, I would leave your butt here on the kitchen floor, to hell with you and the Council.”
“You’re that attached to your phone?”
“It’s the most dependable relationship I have.”
If he’d made a joke about the vibrate feature, I would have walked out the door with a clean conscience. Unfortunately, he drew his own phone out of his pocket and handed it to me without comment, which took that option off the table.
Shunted to Gigi’s voicemail, I told her to ask if she could stay at her friend Sammi Jo’s house for the night and to call me before she came home. Behind me, Mr. Calix sat leaning against the cupboards, drinking the last bottle of clean synthetic blood.
I turned, crouching in front of him so we were at eye level. He didn’t seem to like that, his big, honeyed-chocolate eyes pinning me as I hovered outside of striking distance. I squared my shoulders and tried to force as much authority into my voice as I could muster. “Here are my rules. I will set up a comfortable, light-tight place for you in my root cellar. I will stock bottled blood and whatever you need at my home. You will not be welcome in any of the living spaces above the first floor. I will not be feeding you any of my blood. Ever. And neither will my sister. In fact, if my sister is in the house, you are not allowed to be in the same room with her alone. The minute your week is up, you are out.”
“You’re making an awful lot of rules, human.”
I smiled sweetly. “I’m not the one stranded half-naked on a cold tile floor, vampire.”
