Dead and Dateless Read Online Free Page B

into poor business practices, i.e., not turning on the answering machine, just because I was wanted for murder.
    That or I could contact Evie and make sure that she turned the answering machine on. I wasn’t sure how to do this, either (no cell, no money, no dice), but I intended to figure something out.
    “She never answers your calls,” my father pointed out.
    “True, but that receptionist of hers or the answering machine always pick up at the office. I’m not getting either. I think something is…” Her words trailed off.
    “What is it?” my father asked her.
    “I…nothing. It’s just, for a second there, I could have sworn I smelled cotton candy.”
    So much for being downwind.
    “You’re worrying too much, dear.”
    “Of course I’m worrying. I’m her mother. ”
    Aka the CEO of Guilt, Inc.
    “I’m sure Lil is fine. And if she weren’t, someone would have called us by now. The boys keep tabs on her.”
    “Jack doesn’t. He’s too busy committing us to social events with every human in New York.”
    “It’s two, dear. Three counting the girl herself.”
    “Three too many. I swear,” she huffed, “my children are going to be the death of me.”
    “You’re immortal, dear.”
    “With a weakness for stakes and sunlight. Both of which seem preferable to having tea with that woman and her family. Are you sure she’s not a witch?”
    “Jack said she’s a doctor.”
    “There you go. A voodoo witch doctor. She’s probably cast some sort of spell over him and that’s why he’s come to us with this silly request.”
    “Not that kind of a doctor, dear,” my father said. “At least I don’t think. Then again, that would explain why the boy came up with this cockamamie plan. Jack would never cook up something like this by himself.”
    I have three older brothers. Jack, the youngest, is the do-no-wrong brother.
    As for the other two…Max is the hunky one. Okay, so they are all three hunky (we’re talking male vamps, here), but Max is the oldest and so he has hunk seniority. While Rob is the smart brother. Okay, okay, so they are all smart (another vamp given), but Rob is the only one who managed to fly below my parents’ radar. He showed up for Sunday hunts, but otherwise he stayed in Hoboken where he managed the Jersey locations of Midnight Moe’s. And—and this was the biggie—he kept his women to himself.
    I was trying to do the same—fly below the radar, that is—but it wasn’t working as well on account of my being female and the survival of my species—not to mention the family bloodline—depended completely on me and how quickly I could find a suitable vamp and procreate.
    Or so my mother thought.
    “I’m just going to call and tell them no. They’re human. ”
    In vamp terms, human meant dinner.
    “Perhaps if we go,” my father pointed out, “Jack will change his mind about this human. Especially when he sees us all together. He can’t ignore how different we are if it’s right in front of him.”
    Vamp definition for different? Better.
    “So you think we should cancel the Sunday hunt and go?” my mother wanted to know.
    I sat up straight. Cancel the Sunday hunt? Would they? Could they?
    “I don’t see how we can do anything else. We have to let him see for himself how silly it is for him to be involved with someone like that.”
    Yessssssssss!
    “It’s done, then,” Mom declared. “We’ll cancel Sunday and move the hunt to Saturday.”
    I glanced around the veranda for the nearest sharp object. Other than the heel from my Sergio Rossi, there wasn’t even anything close.
    Number three: Buy wooden stake.
    I tuned out my parents and pushed to my feet. Moonlight reflected off the water as I rounded the pool and limped toward the pool house.
    Remember, we’re talking a vamp pool house. Nix the usual umbrellas or beach towels or anything to help shield a body from the glowing ball of fire scheduled to light up the sky in exactly six hours and thirty-six minutes. I