Broken Heart 05 Over My Dead Body (5 page)

I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to date Brady. I felt discombobulated. Okay. Wait. No need to feel that way. I pressed a hand against my chest and tried to suck in a steadying breath. Ouch.

Okay, so I couldn’t steady my nerves. I’d learned my lesson about trusting too easily. I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. All I had to do was guard my heart.

While I waited for Damian to deliver the damaged pole, I tinkered on an old toaster. I thought the heating element was the problem, but it still didn’t operate after I replaced the Nichrome wire coils. There had to be another reason the electrical circuit wasn’t working. Hmm. Maybe something with the bread carriage or the spring—

“Simone?”

“Ahhh!” I jumped a foot (literally!) at the sound of a female’s hesitant voice. I whirled around, wide-eyed. Sheesh! Had my vampire senses turned off? This was the second time in the same day I hadn’t heard someone approach.

Darlene Clark stood behind me.

“Sorry, hon. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She smiled at me, but since her fangs were showing, I wasn’t exactly comforted. She was my height, though she tended to wear ankle busters that made her three inches taller. She had blue eyes, curly black hair, and even before she was a vampire, skin like cream. I’d never seen her in anything but dresses—and none of those were Wal-Mart specials. Darlene was a blood- sucking Snow White.

“Can I help you with something, Darlene?”

“It’s my water,” she said. She looked embarrassed. “The pipes are busted in the kitchen.”

“Again?” I grabbed a wet wipe from the tub I kept on the worktable and cleaned my hands. In December, Darlene’s kitchen pipes had frozen over and then burst. Her home was one of the oldest in town, right along with the LeRoy house, which had been relocated to the compound, the Silverstone mansion (the queen’s digs), and the McCree farm. I helped plug the leak, fix the pipes, and then clean up the mess. Like I said before, the ol’ water woo-woo came in handy now and again.

“I fitted you with new copper pipes. What in the world could’ve happened?”

Darlene nibbled her lip. “I don’t really know.”

Everyone in Broken Heart had the Oklahoma drawl, but Darlene’s was thicker than most. Mine had been diluted by living in Nevada, but every now and then it crept into my words.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll meet you over there.”

“Oh. Well, I have the car. You could just hop in.” She smiled again, but her gaze skittered away.

Unease wiggled through me. “Why didn’t you just call?”

“I guess I wasn’t thinking straight. Marissa’s playing with Jenny over at Jessica’s house. I wanted to get it fixed before she got home.”

Marissa had just turned seven; she was a year older than Glory. Her hair was a darker blond and her face more oval-shaped, but they looked a lot alike. Marissa must’ve taken after her father, whom Darlene had divorced a couple years ago, because I couldn’t see anything of the mother in the little girl. Except maybe the propensity for fancy dresses and shiny accessories.

“I’m sorry, Simone.” Her hands fluttered around her face. “I just get so scatterbrained.”

“Looks like you skipped eating, too.” I eyed her fangs. I always met my donor before I headed in to work. His name was Rick. He was twenty, working his way through med school, and was so matter-of-fact about the process, I didn’t feel so . . . icky about the whole thing. I don’t care how sexy the movies make it. Sinking my canines into the neck of some willing victim gave me the heebie-jeebies. But that’s what vampires had to do to survive—and to tell you the truth, I’d done worse to ensure I’d live another day.

Darlene ran her tongue over her teeth. Her gaze fastened on my neck, and I flinched. Unease jack-rabbited right into freaky-deaky. I grabbed a wrench off the table, and her gaze lit up.

“Oh, good! You’ve decided to come with me.”

No, I’ve decided to bash your skull in if you point those fangs in my direction. Darlene always was one brick short of a full load. Becoming a vampire hadn’t given her any extra IQ points.

Darlene wandered toward my worktable. I scooted away, but kept the wrench in my hand. I was really popular today. I glanced at Darlene, who was studying the scattered tools with a disturbing intensity. Despite having daughters only a year apart, we lived now the way we had as humans—saying hi now and then, unless something needed fixing. Neither one of us had ever tried to arrange a play date. Most folks knew Glory didn’t talk, and she didn’t really like socializing with anyone.

Come to think of it, neither did I.

Okay. All right. Maybe I was overreacting to the tension. Or maybe there was no tension. And yet, my inner alarm was clanging. I’d learned to listen to my instincts—and damn it, they were screeching like a cat in the grip of an affectionate toddler.

“Darlene?”

Her vacuous blue gaze met mine. She was pushing on one of her fangs and staring at me.

“Maybe you should go eat,” I suggested again. “And I’ll be at your house in, say, twenty minutes?”

“But the water . . .” She drifted off midsentence, her gaze meandering. As the seconds passed, she seemed to drown in her own thoughts. Then she finally said, “I suppose if you can’t get there any faster, it’ll do. I mean, I may need a whole new kitchen in twenty minutes.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I swallowed the thorny knot of anger climbing up my throat. “On second thought, I suggest you call a plumber,” I said sweetly. “I think the Consortium has one or two on staff.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Call. A. Plumber.”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes lost their vacant look. “My goodness, Simone! There’s no need to snap at me. Just call me when you’re ready to pop by, okay?”

She spun around and left the garage, her high heels clicking disdain across the concrete floor. I had worked really hard not to lose my temper around folks. But I was beginning to wonder why I should be peaches and cream all the time, especially to people like Darlene, who didn’t seem to know I existed unless she needed my skills.

I faced my worktable and tossed the wrench onto it. Anger beat a tempo at the base of my skull. I don’t know why I felt mad. No reason to be, not really. Darlene’s visit and dealing with the so-called sabotaged pole had just put me off-kilter. And . . . well, maybe my growing feelings for Brady figured somewhere into the mix, too.

My cell phone rang. I plucked it from the holster and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Simone, it’s Reiner. I’m bringing the damaged post to you. I thought I might throw a stone at two pigeons while I was there.”

I puzzled over the odd sentence. Oh. I couldn’t stop the chuckle. “You mean kill two birds with one stone?”

“Ah. Yes.” He paused. “I have the design for the queen’s gift, the one I hope you can help me complete.”

Even though seeing Reiner again ranked between stepping on a rusty nail and licking an electric fence, I had to admit that I was curious about this project. I don’t know why he thought I could help. Guess I was gonna find out.

“What do you think?” asked Reiner.

We’d been studying his carefully sketched plans for the last ten minutes. The object, at least on paper, was twelve inches high with a base six inches wide. Angled on the left was the statue of a robed figure holding a gnarled wooden staff; on her right side was a big black wolf. Suspended above them was a crystal orb. Reiner explained the statue was the Moon Goddess and her lover, Tark. The orb was a stylized moon. I glanced at him. “You want the woman to raise her staff and when she does, the orb will glow blue?”

He nodded. “I based the design on some of the ancient icons, which are still on display in the temple. There used to be many temples, just like there used to be many lycans and Roma. Now, there is only one temple—and not so many of us.”

I knew that the lycanthropes were a dying race. At least, they had been until Patsy and Gabriel’s union gave them hope. Of course, the loup de sang drank blood like vampires—and not all lycans appreciated that, er, quirk.

“You know, when we lived in our little village, I served my princes. I was their loyal bodyguard, their friend. I was also their best tracker.” He smiled softly. “Better, even, than Damian.” His tone was reminiscent, and underneath it, something I’d could only describe as yearning. “Do you know the story, Simone?”

“What story?”

“Sixty years ago, in the mountains of the Schwarzwald—the Black Forest—Roma and lycans lived together peacefully. Damian had married and was soon to be a father. After years of watching our women mourn and our children die, we had hope.”

He snapped his fingers and the sound echoed in the stillness. “Then it was gone. Destroyed by the Ancient vampire Koschei and his Wraiths. Those who survived went elsewhere. Even the princes exiled themselves.” Reiner ’s despair was so thick it coated every word. He traced the lines on the paper. “Their father was the last royal alpha of pure blood. Their mother was an American. She was the daughter of a royal and a commoner. In the very early days of our kind, such a match would’ve never been allowed. The royals are different genetically.”

I nodded. I knew that because the Consortium had explained it at the same time they’d explained why they’d been unable to replicate the cure for the Taint. Right now, the only way to rid a vampire of the disease was to transfuse him with royal lycan blood. As far as I knew, only two vampires had received the treatment: Lorcan and Faustus.

“Is it true that werewolves were once guardians of vampires?”

“Lycanthropes have been around much longer than vampires. It is true that some vampires glamoured lycans as guards much the same way they glamoured humans as drones. Of course, the Consortium does not condone either practice. Patrick and Lorcan befriended us. They helped us when no one else would. And that is why Damian, Drake, and Darrius offer their skills and their loyalty.”

“What about you?” I asked. The question startled both of us. I usually wasn’t so nosy, especially not about someone I wasn’t sure I liked.

“I joined the Consortium because I appreciated its vision, its goals. But I cannot help but think my people were meant for some larger purpose—and that we have lost our way. We are direct descendents from the Moon Goddess. Her blood runs in all our veins.” He rolled up the paper and wrapped a rubber band around it. “I do not know why She allows our children to die or why She has blessed Gabriel and his vampire bride with fertility.”

I knew right then he’d lost a child. The catch in his voice and the sorrow in his eyes told me so. Maybe when his village was attacked, or maybe just in the course of trying to raise a lycanthrope baby. . . . Who knew?

I never thought I’d ever feel anything but disgust for Reiner. I didn’t want to admit that the man was capable of feeling as wounded as me. For a long time, I thought I had the market cornered on pain. After I’d escaped Jacob, I’d beaten my soul bloody with the spiked stick of regret. It was hard to let go of my guilt. Then I learned not so much to let go, but to bury it. What I’d done was still there, shiny and sharp just below the surface. Waiting for me to dig, waiting for me to cut myself and bleed out.

“I’m sorry.” I meant the words, though I fought the urge to lay a consoling hand on his shoulder. We might both have painful pasts, but that didn’t mean I trusted him. “Y’all have suffered so much, Reiner.”

“You have no idea.” His gaze flicked to mine. “Or maybe you do.”

“I see the shadows in your eyes, Simone. You think your smile can hide them, but no, nothing can ever hide that pain—not from someone who understands it.”

“Let’s not pretend we understand anything about each other,” I said. “You’ve got your woes, and I’ve got mine.”

“We are not so different.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “We are.”

Reiner inclined his head, an acknowledgment or a denial—I didn’t know which.

“You will help me make the statue work?” he asked.

I wasn’t sure agreeing to spend any more time in his presence was a wise thing to do. But I liked his idea, and I knew I could figure out how to get that staff to rise—clockwork parts, maybe—and that moon to glow blue. “A week isn’t a lot of time. The festival’s on Saturday.”

“I have the parts already crafted. It is only a matter of putting them together and getting them to work.”

“Okay,” I said. “Come by on Monday around eleven p.m. and we’ll get started.”

Reiner grinned. “I look forward to working with you, Simone.”

I wish I could’ve said the same about him. Instead, I just stuck my hands into my pockets and gave him my best Pollyanna smile. He looked at me an instant longer than necessary; then he left the garage, whistling.

I felt the tension drain from my shoulders. It was probably stupid to work with a man who caused such contentious feelings. I couldn’t point to one single thing he’d actually done to make me not like him. It’s just that my instincts were a-buzzin’ again—and I intended to proceed with caution.

I looked at the cracked post sitting on my worktable. I really wanted to get started on it, especially since half the night was already gone. I wasn’t sure Darlene still expected me, and if she was, too bad. I got out my cell phone, dialed the Consortium’s headquarters, and asked for the plumber on call.

“That’s Dunmore,” said Arin. He was a nice older lycan who knew just about everything and had it all organized, color-coded, and filed. “He just moved into town a couple weeks ago all the way from England. He’s a lycan.”

“As long as he can fix water leaks, I don’t care if he’s the pope.”

Arin laughed, said good-bye, and transferred me. The phone rang a couple of times, and then a brash English voice offered, “Dunmore’s the name, plumbin’s the game.”

“I’m Simone. I run the garage on Main Street.”

“I know you. You need me to come round and fix your pipes, love?”

“Uh, no. But Darlene Clark sure does. Did she call you?”

“No. Give me the address. I’ll go on over and see what I can do.”

I told him how to get to Darlene’s house, and then hit END. One problem solved; a million to go.

I leaned over the table and patted the shiny black pole. “It’s just you and me, buddy. And it’s time for the autopsy.”