I shook the thoughts out of my head—wherever the levelheaded Wanda had gone, she needed to come back ASAP.

  Dev made it easier to think straight when he removed his hand as the waitress came to take our orders. I leaned back while she laid napkins and cups and saucers in front of us.

  Now that I wasn’t touching him—and he wasn’t touching me—Lorcan intruded on my thoughts. His office was right next door to the coffee and ice cream shop. It would take a matter of seconds to go over to his practice, strap him to the dentist’s chair, and give him a memory he’d never forget. Maybe then I could get Dev off my brain. And getting Dev off my brain was probably a very good idea…

  I started to drift into a fantasy about Lorcan when Dev brushed my hand again. Immediately, I snapped back to the present—to the place where we were sitting, side by side, inside the ice cream shop. We were the only customers. His fingertips scorched my knuckles, and his black eyes captivated me with that unbroken haze of heat. I felt stunned, frozen in shock as everything surrounding me vanished, everything but him.

  As he touched me, the memory of last night exploded into my mind again. But, instead of Lorcan, the dream ended with Dev taking me. He never turned into Lorcan. As soon as Dev broke contact, pulling his hand back, Lorcan reasserted himself, and Dev no longer appeared in the vision at all. It seemed to be one or the other: Lorcan or Dev playing the leading role, depending on whether Dev was touching me or not.

  None of this made any sense.

  Something was seriously wrong, but with Dev so close and continuously establishing and reestablishing his influence over me, I couldn’t think straight enough to realize what that something was. I couldn’t even will myself to walk out when I knew I should.

  Yes, I should definitely have walked out. I should have gotten as far away from this ‘man’ as was possible. He intoxicated my mind, and not in a good way. He befuddled my ability to protect myself… from him. He even befuddled my ability to think or speak.

  Somehow or other, the waitress returned, bringing our orders. I didn’t remember ordering anything in the first place, but a tall, triple-mocha cappuccino appeared in front of me, all the same. I lifted it and took a sip as Dev continued to stare at me. It was as though he’d never seen an attractive woman in her forties before (actually I’m one-hundred-forty, but who’s counting?).

  Dev made conversation for the two of us. I wasn’t aware of answering, but he seemed satisfied that I was holding my end of the conversation. He even seemed satisfied when he paid the bill and we left the coffee shop.

  He guided me with that commanding hand against my back again, his fingers bunching the fabric of my dress, as if he were irritated it was in his way. We returned to my store, but before walking in, he stopped me on the sidewalk.

  His black eyes burned into me, snaring me in their impossible gaze. “I will see you soon, my lovely Wanda. Contact me when you’re ready for my fitting?” The smile hit his face again. “Or contact me… for other reasons.”

  I stared at him in stupid silence. Words didn’t exist. Nothing existed, save for him. He didn’t need me to say anything. I just had to go through the motions. I couldn’t even bring myself to mention that he hadn’t given me his number yet.

  He bit back another grin. “Make sure you do a good job. I’m counting on you.”

  “Yes,” I managed.

  He eased closer, and his lips quivered. Was he about to kiss me? Instead, he gripped my hips and none too gently, dug his fingertips into me on either side as he yanked me forward. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

  “I can scent your need,” he whispered.

  I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what to say or do.

  “You are… you are tempting, so tempting,” he answered, then he whirled me around so my back was to him and propelled me toward the store.

  “Have a nice day.”

  I stumbled inside. The instant I crossed the threshold, the enchantment dissolved. I was back to normal—as normal as I could hope to be under the circumstances, anyway. I teetered to the sewing table and slumped over it as I fought to get control of my breathing and heartrate. My legs felt like jelly and my head was too heavy on top of my neck. I supported myself against the table and heaved a long, broken sigh. Now that Dev was gone, there was nothing but a void, a need that continued to build within me. A need of the… sexual type.

  I looked at the sky outside. It was dark with gray clouds—overcast. That meant Lorcan could be right down the street.

  He could be in his office… I could just imagine him reclining into his dentist’s chair while I climbed on top of him, slipped my hands under his shirt, and…

  No! I wouldn’t do that. I couldn’t, because doing anything carnal with Lorcan would only lead to his Kiss—to him turning me into a fully-blooded vampire. I had to fight the urge to be with Lorcan with everything I had. Yes, I had to stop that from happening.

  Looking out at Main Street, my eyes naturally moved up the street to Lorcan’s office. His Escalade wasn’t parked outside in its usual spot. That meant… he wasn’t there. Inwardly, I sighed my relief.

  So, what to do about this need that was still throttling me? Maybe I should close the store early and take Lorcan’s and Dev’s orders home? I could work on them there and I could… take care of business there too… by myself.

  Lorcan lived maybe a mile or so from the duplex. And, owing to the fact that he wasn’t at his office, maybe he was home? Or maybe Marty was driving him around in the hearse?

  Lorcan, being paranoid, had hired a local human resident, Marty Zach, to drive Lorcan around during the day while he rested in a casket in the back of Marty’s hearse. But, Lorcan only did so on especially sunny days, something Haven Hollow didn’t see very often.

  I glanced up at the sky and noticed the dense cloud cover. No, Lorcan wouldn’t need Marty or the hearse today. The sky was basically dark gray—dark enough for him to be out and about. Hmm, maybe he was taking the day off from work to keep away from me, in which case, I’d be closer to him at home than I was here.

  I should go see him, I thought to myself. I should talk to him about what was happening and this Dev stranger.

  But what if I showed up at his house and he was sitting around with his shirt off, like he usually did? What if he was lounging in his boxers or what if, Goddess forbid, he was completely nude? He might walk up to me and wrap his powerful arms around me and take me right there—against the wall. Maybe he’d lift me off the floor and my legs would circle his waist, just like they had last night. His hands would grope down my back to my…

  No! Goddess, what was wrong with me? I couldn’t stop obsessing about one man or the other and this was not the way I usually thought about Haven Hollow’s favorite vampire dentist. Er, only vampire dentist. Most of the time, I pondered how to avoid Lorcan, if I thought of him at all.

  Well, that was starting to be a little less than true lately, wasn’t it? The façade of not caring about Lorcan was seriously cracking, and it didn’t have anything to do with the blood curse.

  Balls!

  Like Astrid said, Lorcan wasn’t a bad guy… for a vampire. He was kind, considerate, attentive, polite—not to mention drop-dead hot. And he’d done nothing but go overboard trying to honor my wishes. No other vampire would have bothered—I’d either be a fully-blooded vampire by now or I’d be dead.

  No! I was not going to start thinking of Lorcan Rowe with phrases like ‘nice guy’ and ‘hot’.

  Just no, Wanda. Not going there.

  I hopped into my crappy car and burned rubber (literally) out of town. The entire way, I plotted on how I would walk through the front door and go directly to my room, where I would barricade myself inside. I wouldn’t listen to any backhanded comments from Hellcat, and I would nail my bedroom window shut to prevent Lorcan—and Hellcat—from getting in and me from getting out. Tonight Astrid was going to Poppy’s after school, which was just as well. She had a house key and could let herself inside. And I’d just tell her I was feeling sick.

  I had my whole strategy laid out, but when I slammed the driver’s door and stormed into my side of the duplex, I stopped just inside the door, dropping my purse. Was that…? It sounded like a scratchy old gramophone playing an ancient recording of Bessie Smith singing, T’Aint Nobody’s Business If I Do.

  Was I finally cracking up for real? I must have been hearing things.

  The sound came from the living room—my living room. I hardly dared to look inside, but when I did, all thought of locking myself in a closet sailed out of my head.

  Chapter Six

  The music really was coming from an old-fashioned gramophone. From what I could tell, the disc was real wax and the sound quality was as authentic. The couch had been pushed aside, right up against the wall to make a big open space in the middle of the room. The coffee table leaned on its end in the corner.

  Astrid lazed on the couch, watching Darla and Libby as they danced in the middle of the room. Darla wore a wine-red flapper dress with the waist almost around her thighs. Sequins sparkled and shimmered and rustled from every seam and the cream cloche hat decorated with a massive wine-red bow matched the rest of the ensemble.

  Ugh, I’d never liked 1920s fashion, even when I’d lived through the roaring twenties—the dresses were just too amorphous and didn’t lend themselves to curves.

  Libby wore one of her starched Marilyn-Monroe-Meets-Eleanor-Roosevelt dresses and stood there with her arms crossed against her chest as Darla grew more and more frustrated with her. From what I could figure, Darla was trying to teach Libby how to dance the Charleston. And failing.

  “Step forward… then behind… now step back with the other foot…” Darla gasped in exasperation. “For pity’s sake, honey, get your arms into it! You look like a stiff!”

  Until recently, Libby had been a stiff—as in she’d been dead. Then I’d reanimated her unintentionally, and she’d become my zombie, needing to be near me constantly. It was something that happened when one raised the dead—the dead in question became worse than stage five clingers. And Darla wasn’t much better. She’d been a spirit haunting Poppy’s house until I’d reanimated her, much like I’d done to Libby. Now the pair of them were like my shadows. Luckily they no longer lived with me and, instead, took up residence in the other half of the duplex. As to why they were here now though? I wasn’t sure. Furthermore, why was Astrid home?

  Libby tried to copy Darla’s instruction, but Darla’s comments only made her more self-conscious and mechanical in her movements.

  I stepped into the living room, already exasperated with all three of them. Had Hellcat been there too, I might have just turned around and walked back out. “What’s going on? And, Astrid, why aren’t you over at Poppy’s?”

  Astrid shrugged. “Finn wasn’t feeling well, so we skipped today.”

  Darla and Libby looked up at me with huge smiles on their faces. They were always happy to see me—I just wished the feeling was mutual.

  “An’ we’re just havin’ us a nice, relaxin’ dame’s night between…” Darla started, before waving at Libby and Astrid. “… you know… dames.”

  Astrid lifted a plastic cup of something frosty to her lips and took a long sip through the Day-Glo green straw. “You’re just in time. I was worried they were gonna start remodeling the place before you got back.”

  “Go over there, dollface,” Darla told Libby. “Stand back an’ watch how it’s done.”

  She shoved Libby aside. Without really meaning to, I sank down on the couch next to Astrid—I was just too defeated by this point to do anything else. Darla changed the disc on the gramophone and strutted to the middle of the room as a fast-paced rhythm filled the room. With no one in the way to cramp her style, she started to Charleston like her life depended on it.

  She rotated her ankles and flapped her arms to the bouncy rhythm as Astrid watched her with wide eyes. Libby appeared irritated, and I just lacked the energy to feel anything at all.

  The sequins of Darla’s dress flapped and jingled, along with the collection of glittering chains around her neck. I thought I probably should have been more interested, I mean, how often do you get to see a real flapper dancing in full regalia?

  “If she starts brewing gin in the bathtub, this could go on all night,” Astrid said on a yawn.

  “Starts brewing gin in the bathtub?” I countered. “You mean she’s doing that sober?”

  Astrid cracked a grin. “I think she might have completely forgotten about the ‘giggly water’ in the pantry.”

  I looked up at Darla. Instead of resuming Libby’s lessons, Darla let herself go. She twirled around the room and bent forward from the waist to swing her arms in even more wild gyrations.

  The record kept playing and Darla kept dancing. I leaned back against the cushions as Astrid shoved a bowl of beer nuts into my hands.

  I took a handful. Darla bumped into my sewing machine table and my pincushion fell onto the floor, along with a few scraps of fabric. Libby picked them up and put them back on the table, straightening a few pieces lying there, still waiting for me to stitch them up.

  The minute Libby started cleaning, it appeared she couldn’t stop. She forgot the dancing lessons, and turned her whole attention to tidying the room, which wasn’t that out of the ordinary, considering Libby liked to clean.

  “What’s different about you?” Astrid asked as she looked over at me and studied me pointedly.

  “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged as she looked back at Darla and Libby. Then she turned to face me again. “You don’t usually let them stick around for more than three minutes after you get home.”

  She had a point. I could shoo them out of the house and tell them to dance and clean their side of the duplex, but I just lacked the energy. Besides, I’d already made it pretty clear that I valued my space and they weren’t welcome to hang around.

  And yet, something about the scene unfolding before me now was… comforting. I couldn’t exactly explain why. Maybe I was just used to all Darla and Libby’s crazy antics—or maybe I’d just gotten used to having them around? I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about the fact that if someone had told me I’d raise a zombie from the grave and make a ghost corporeal and then actually… like them (sometimes), I would’ve hexed that person into the next century. Now… well, now I wasn’t so sure.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Astrid asked.

  I looked at her and shook my head, sighing. “As weird as it sounds, I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have those two waiting for me when I got home from work every day like two eager dogs.”

  Astrid laughed, and we both grew quiet as I glanced at her again. “And you… minus the eager dog part.”

  She burst into a grin and rested her head on my shoulder.

  ***

  A knock rattled my front door and blowing out a quick breath, I whispered to no one, “Here goes nothing.”

  I smoothed down the tight black dress that hugged my curves and straightened my stockings. Checking my hair in the hall mirror, I threw on my highest heels and opened the front door.

  “You look just as rancid as you usually do,” Hellcat commented as he sauntered by. I chose to ignore him. Instead, I faced my gentleman caller.

  Lorcan stood on the porch in a fitted and handsome black suit, silk tie, and crisp, white shirt. He was holding a bouquet of red roses which he immediately handed to me and I accepted, much though I didn’t want to.

  “You didn’t have to bring me flowers, especially when we’re celebrating your birthday.” And, no, I hadn’t bothered to get him anything, because I didn’t want to give him any ideas… or any more ideas than he already had.

  “I wanted to bring you flowers.”

  “Well, they just make this whole thing… feel much more datey than it needs to.”

  He cracked a grin, revealing his white teeth and pointed fangs. “Why, Ms. Depraysie, this is a date!” Then he looked me up and down and made a show of licking his lips. “You look… good enough to eat, my dear.”

  “Stop it.” I stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind me. “Don’t think you can win me over with flattery or flowers or whatever else you’ve got up your sleeves. I’m still mad at you about the other night.” Even though I wasn’t. Not really, because it wasn’t his fault, but still, it was better to let Lorcan think I was always mad at him. That way he’d mind himself.

  “Oh, I would never dream of trying to win you over.” Lorcan grinned even broader.

  He pivoted sideways and cocked his elbow. “May I escort my lady to her carriage?”

  I smiled in spite of myself. He then bowed so gallantly, I felt my cheeks warming. He definitely knew how to put on the charm. “Go on.”

  He didn’t put his arm down. He beamed at me so delightedly that I slipped my hand through his arm, even though I frowned at him, all the same. In general, it wasn’t good to encourage Lorcan. He was unpredictable and way too imaginative. Together, they weren’t a good mix.

  He escorted me down the steps to the car, which was idling at the curb. It wasn’t his Escalade I was used to seeing.

  Instead, the car was a sleek, silver Porsche convertible, and the top was down. Lorcan opened the passenger door for me and handed me into the seat. I had to practically sit on the pavement, the car crouched so low to the ground.

  “New ride?” I asked.

  He beamed like a little boy. “It is. Just picked it up!”

  “Hmm, what is it?”

  “Porsche 911 Targa 4s.” He grinned even more boyishly. “A birthday present to myself.”

  “What did that set you back?”

  He grinned even more broadly. “$135,000.”

  I took a deep breath and then shook my head as he climbed into the driver’s seat and turning the overpriced man-toy on, the engine roared to life. Passing my jalopy of a vehicle, the Chevy Vega, where it was parked and looking especially depressing, he peeled onto the road and put the pedal down. The breeze whipped my hair back and a thrill of exhilaration set my heart racing, much though I didn’t want to admit it. It’s just… I was used to cars like this.