Dead and Dateless Read Online Free

I know. I was turning out to be sort of good at this whole on-the-run criminal business (I had my clothes and I was free). What can I say? I had a brain to go with my ultra fab body. I also had a receptionist/ personal assistant who never missed CSI, and who never failed to give me the lowdown after each episode.
    For now I was broke and destined to stay that way unless I stumbled over a stash of cash hidden in my folks’ azalea bushes.
    So not happening. My dad, like all other born vampires, was extremely careful and frugal (that’s cheap to you and me), and so the only thing hidden in the bushes was a bear trap he’d bought last week to put a damper on Viola’s next NUNS meeting.
    “I know milk does a body good, but baby, how much have you been drinking?”
    I drew a deep breath, forced myself not to smack the smiling cabbie and turned on the charm. “That’s a good one.”
    “I’ve got more.”
    “I’ll take your word for it. Now pull over.” Now.
    The minute the thought registered, his hands tightened on the wheel and he eased onto the side of the road. The cab rolled to a stop.
    “Thanks so much for the ride.” I reached for the doorknob as he twisted around in the seat and eye balled me.
    “My pleasure. That’ll be eighty-five dollars and—”
    “And thanks for forgetting all about me.”
    “What…” His voice faded as I caught and held his gaze.
    You will forget me. As soon as I climb out of this cab, you’ll forget I even exist. You’ll think you drove all the way out here to get some fresh air and sightsee. End of story. No megalicious hot babe clutching a pillow in your backseat. No trying to pick her up. No enormous unpaid fare on your meter. Nada.
    He blinked and the desire in his gaze faded into confusion.
    As I scrambled out of the backseat, my gaze hooked on the worn paperback sitting on his dash. Love Smart. Guilt niggled at me and I heard myself say “Got a pen?”
    He blinked, still dazed and confused, and retrieved a pencil from his glove box.
    I grabbed an old receipt off his seat, scribbled the name and number for Dead End Dating and handed it to him. “Call Evie Dalton and she’ll help you find that perfect someone.”
    Just call me sucker.
    Not that I actually felt for the guy. Or knew what it was like to sit home all by my lonesome and wonder if there was someone—anyone—out there waiting for me (I’m talking opposite sex, not creditors). A girl had to protect her livelihood and I needed all the clients I could get. ’Nuff said.
    He stared at the number as if I’d handed him a Visa Gold card with unlimited spending and I smiled. And then I frowned because, hey, bad ass vamps didn’t get all mushy just because they’d made someone’s day. Especially desperate badass vamps, which is exactly what I was at the moment.
    Forget the undying gratitude and the fact that I’ve just made your year, and scram.
    I willed the thought as I climbed out, and then hustled down the road. I chanced one glance behind me to make sure he’d driven off—yeah, baby—and then I really hauled butt. My boots were literally smoking by the time I sprinted across the carefully manicured lawn that surrounded my family’s three-story house.
    A soft, yellow light illuminated the front door and I had a sudden vision of myself curled up in my bed on the third floor. My parents still expected me to fail and so they’d yet to turn my space into another guest room. I took a few steps up the front walk before I caught myself.
    My parents’ place would most likely be high on the list of my possible whereabouts. While I knew they would believe my innocence and have no qualms helping me hide, I wasn’t about to put them in a position where they would have to lie. Even more, I wasn’t about to put myself in a position where I would have to listen to yet another of my mother’s endless lectures on why I should give up the matchmaking biz, settle down with a suitable eternity mate, and squeeze out a