Hell On Heels(108)

I figured the best way to handle this was to lie—hugely. However, gay Vampyre boyfriends had a way of interrupting and screwing up all your plans.
“Well, you see…”
“He’s her mate and he dipped his stick in several other…actually many other oil tanks. So she dumped his furry player ass, snuck away in the middle of the night and hadn’t really planned on ever going back there again.” Dwayne sucked in a huge breath, which was ridiculous because Vampyres didn’t breathe.
It took everything I had not to scream and go all wolfy. “Dwayne, clearly you want me to go medieval on your lily white ass because I can’t imagine why you would utter such bullshit to my boss.”
“Doesn’t sound like bullshit to me,” Angela said as she channel surfed and landed happily on an old episode of Cagney and Lacey. “We might have a problem here.”
“Are you replacing me?” Hank Wilson had screwed me over once when I was his. He was not going to do it again when I wasn’t.
“Your call,” she said. Dwayne, who was an outstanding shoplifter, covertly took back the remote and flipped over to the Food Channel. Angela glanced up at the tube and gave Dwayne the evil eye.
“I refuse to watch lesbians fight crime in the eighties. I’ll get hives,” he explained, tilted his head to the right and gave Angela a smile. He was so pretty it was silly—piercing blue eyes and body to die for. Even my boss had a hard time resisting his charm.
“Fine,” she grumbled.
“Excuse me,” I yelled. “This conversation is about me, not testosterone ridden women cops with bad hair, hives or food. It’s my life we’re talking about here—me, me, me!” My voice had risen to decibels meant to attract stray animals within a ten-mile radius, evidenced by the wincing and ear covering.
“Essie, are you done?” Dwayne asked fearfully.
“Possibly. What did you tell him?” I asked Angela.
“I told him the Council has the last word in all matters. Always. And if he had a problem with it he could take it up with the elders next month when they stay awake long enough to listen to the petitions of their people.”#p#分页标题#e#
“Oh my god, that’s awesome,” I squealed. “What did he say?”
“That if we send you down he’ll give you bus money so you can hightail your sorry cowardly butt right back out of town.”
Was she grinning at me, and was that little shit Dwayne jotting the conversation down in the notes section on his phone?
“Let me tell you something,” I ground out between clenched teeth as I confiscated Dwayne’s phone and pocketed it. “I am going to Hung Island, Georgia tomorrow and I will kick his ass. I will find the killer first and then I will castrate the alpha of the Georgia Pack…with a dull butter knife.”
Angela laughed and Dwayne jack-knifed over on the couch in a visceral reaction to my plan. I stomped into my bathroom and slammed the door to make my point, then pressed my ear to the rickety wood to hear them talk behind my back.
“I’ll bet you five hundred dollars she’s gonna bang him,” Dwayne told Angela.
“I’ll bet you a thousand that you’re right,” she shot back.
“You’re on.”

Chapter 2
 
“This music is going to make me yack.” Dwayne moaned and put his hands over his ears.
Trying to ignore him wasn’t working. I promised myself I wouldn’t put him out of the car until we were at least a hundred miles outside of Chicago. I figured anything less than that wouldn’t be the kind of walk home that would teach him a lesson.
“First of all, Vampyres can’t yack and I don’t recall asking you to come with me,” I replied and cranked up The Clash.
“You have got to be kidding.” He huffed and flipped the station to Top Forty. “You need me.”
“Really?”
“Oh my god,” Dwayne shrieked. “I luurrve Lady Gaga.”
“That’s why I need you?”
“Wait. What?”
“I need you because you love The Gaga?”
Dwayne rolled his eyes. “Everyone loves The Gaga. You need me because you need to show your hometown and Hank the Hooker that you have a new man in your life.”
“You’re a Vampyre.”
“Yes, and?”
“Well, um…you’re gay.”
“What does that have to do with anything? I am hotter than asphalt in August and I have a huge package.”
While his points were accurate there was no mistaking his sexual preference. The skinny jeans, starched muscle shirt, canvas Mary Janes and the gold hoop earrings were an undead giveaway.
“You know, I think you should just be my best friend. I want to show them I don’t need a man to make it in this world…okay?” I glanced over and he was crying. Shitshitshit. Why did I always say the wrong thing? “Dwayne, I’m sorry. You can totally be my…”