The Undead Next Door(44)

"Phineas, ye can go downstairs," Ian told him. "Robby's already headed that way."

"Sure. So long." Phineas waved at Heather. "See ya tomorrow night."

"Sleep well." She winced. What was the appropriate thing to say? Die well?

"What about you, bro?" Phineas asked Ian.

"I took the drug," Ian responded, his voice low. "I'm staying up."

Phineas grimaced. "Man, that's wack."

Phil looked the young Scotsman over carefully. "Do you feel all right?"

Ian shrugged. "I was a wee dizzy at first, but I feel fine now."

Phineas shook his head. "I've dealt with drugs before. They're no good, man."

"I'll be fine," Ian insisted. "Now go on downstairs."

"Okay." Phineas looked at Heather. "Keep an eye on him." He strode from the room.

Heather approached the two remaining guards. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Ian crossed his arms, frowning.

"He's taken an experimental drug that will allow him to stay awake during the day," Phil explained.

"Is it dangerous?" Heather asked.

"Nay," Ian answered. "I feel fine, and we need more than one guard during the day."

Heather bit her bottom lip. These vampires were going to great lengths to protect her and her family. It was becoming increasingly hard to think of them as monsters.

As they all walked back to the design studio, she noticed the darkness. Shutters had been drawn over all the windows. The lights were on, but it was still gloomy without sunlight.

"They did a lot of stuff while we were eating breakfast," she whispered to Phil.

"They can move very fast," he replied.

Super fast and super strong. And super sexy. She mentally slapped herself for that last thought.

"Why does it have to be so dark?"

"Sunlight would burn Ian," Phil whispered. "It'll kill him if he's exposed to too much."

Heather grimaced. The young Scotsman was putting himself in too much danger. "I don't see why we need two guards in the daytime. Louie's a vampire, right?"

Phil nodded.

"Then he would only attack at night," Heather concluded. "Unless he's taking the same drug Ian is."

"I'm sure he isn't. But he's an expert at controlling the minds of mortals. He used mortals to assassinate the French kings. He could brainwash anyone to come here and kill us, even during the day."

Heather gulped. "So anyone who comes to the door could be an assassin? Like…the mailman?"

"Correct."

The doorbell rang.





CHAPTER 22




Heather moved close to her daughter. Ian unsheathed his sword, and Fidelia removed a pistol from her purse.

Phil peered through the blinds on the window beside the front door. "It's the UPS man." He punched a button on an intercom speaker. "Leave the packages on the porch."

"This could be legitimate." Ian rested the sword blade against his shoulder. "Jean-Luc was ordering things online Sunday night."

"What's going on, Mama?" Bethany whispered as she took hold of Heather's hand.

"It's…a surprise." A pleasant one, Heather hoped.

Phil continued to spy through the window. "We've got four boxes. He's leaving now. Stay back. The sun's up."

Ian moved out of the way. Phil opened the door, and a slash of sunlight shot across the showroom floor. Above the shiny marble, golden dust motes danced in sunlit air.

Heather glanced at Ian to see if he was all right. His eyes glistened with moisture.

She walked toward him. "Are you in pain?"

He shook his head. "It's been a verra long time since I've seen sunlight. I never thought I'd see it again. 'Tis so…beautiful."

Heather turned away. It was hard to stay prejudiced against these vampires. The slash of light disappeared as Phil exited and shut the door. She moved to the window where Phil had peeked out earlier.

"You shouldna stand so close," Ian warned her.

Did he think the packages would explode like her truck? She peeked out the window to make sure Phil was all right. "Oh my gosh, he's sniffing the boxes."

"Phil can smell a bomb," Ian said. "Please move back."

"Phil can smell—" Her question was interrupted when the door opened and Phil pushed a box inside.

"This one's safe." He shut the door.

"Who's it for?" Bethany ran forward to look at it.

"Bring it here." Ian sheathed his sword, then drew the smaller blade from his knee sock. "I'll open it for you."

Bethany pushed the box to Ian just as Phil shoved a second box inside. "This is fun!" She pushed the second box to Ian. "Open it!"

Ian had already sliced the packaging tape on the first box. He dug through some Styrofoam peanuts and pulled out a beautiful doll wearing an elaborate dress.

Bethany squealed and held out her arms. "It's for me!"

"Good Lord," Heather whispered, moving closer.

Ian removed several plastic bags, each one containing another lovely outfit for the doll. "Och, ye can tell a fashion designer picked these out. Verra fancy."

"I love her!" Bethany spun around, holding the doll.

Heather turned to Fidelia. "We can't keep this stuff."

Fidelia snorted. "Try taking that away from your daughter."

Heather winced. "He's being sneaky and manipulative."

"I'd say he's clever and generous," Fidelia muttered. "But then, what the hell do I know?"

Ian emptied the first box and found a few picture books. Heather sighed. Jean-Luc would make an excellent father if he wasn't a monster. With a jolt, she remembered that Roman was a father.

What if Jean-Luc used the same procedure? Could he actually become a father?

"All done." Phil shoved the last two boxes inside, then shut and locked the front door. Meanwhile, Ian had the second box open. It contained an antique set of hand-painted tarot cards.Fidelia clasped them to her chest. She looked at Heather. "You're loco if you let him go."

Heather frowned at her. "I can't be bought."

Ian opened the third box and pulled out something made of a rich black taffeta. He handed it to Heather.

It was a black cocktail dress, and just her size. Jean-Luc was probably trying to replace the one he'd torn last Friday. She admired the classic styling and superb craftsmanship. It had probably cost a small fortune.

"Can't be bought?" Fidelia asked wryly.

"No." Heather laid the dress back into the box. "I'll be returning this."

Ian dug into the fourth box, then quickly closed it. With a blush staining his youthful face, he pushed the box toward Heather. "It's for you."

"What did you get, Mama?" Bethany danced over, waving her doll in the air.

Heather pulled out something red and lacy. A bra. She stuffed it back in. "It's nothing. Just clothes."

"Oh." Bethany turned away, disappointed.

"Let me see." Fidelia inched closer.

Heather fumbled under the peanuts and pulled out another item. Black lacy underwear. She stuffed it back in.

Fidelia chuckled. "That Juan-Luc. He's a naughty one."

Heather shook her head. He'd ordered this stuff Sunday night? Had he planned on seducing her all along? She pulled out a midnight-blue silk nightgown, edged with lace. Yep, apparently, he had.

"Mmm, muy romantico," Fidelia whispered.

Heather closed the box, feeling the heat of a blush. Even Ian and Phil looked embarrassed. They were studying a shadow on the wall.

"I'm not keeping this stuff." She stacked her two boxes neatly. "I refuse to be in his debt."

Fidelia shook her head. "I don't care what you say. I'm not giving back my new cards."

They all proceeded to the design studio. Curtains had been drawn across the French doors along the back wall. The furniture from the kitchen had been arranged in a front corner, away from Heather's sewing machine. She could sew all day without interfering with Fidelia's ability to watch television.

The morning passed without further incident. Lunch was a little creepy when Ian sauntered into the kitchen, sipping something red from a glass.

Alberto joined them a bit later. "Do you have any idea where Sasha is? She never showed up for our lunch date."

Heather shrugged. "She's at some spa in San Antonio."

"I called there, and she checked out."

"Oh." Heather took a bite of her turkey sandwich while she considered. "Her mom lives nearby. Sasha might be visiting her." Or she might be avoiding Alberto.

He frowned at his sandwich. "I suppose."

"I'm sure she'll be back in time for the charity show," Heather said. "There's no way she'd miss that."

Alberto nodded. "That reminds me. We need to set up a runway in the showroom. Do you know any local carpenters?"

Phil shook his head. "We don't want strange workmen coming in."

"I've got an idea." Heather carried her plate to the sink. "The high school where I teach put on a musical last year, and they built a runway into the orchestra pit. I could check to see if they still have it."

"Good." Alberto looked relieved. "See if they can bring it here. I'll work on the invitation list."

"No more than twenty guests," Ian warned him.

Alberto scoffed. "That's ridiculous!"

Ian arched an eyebrow. "Ye can say that after what happened to Pierre?"