The Undead Next Door

CHAPTER 12

Damn that Lui! Jean-Luc had no doubt the bastard was behind this. The horrified look on Heather's face tormented him as he rode to her burning house. He'd wanted to drive Heather there, but the sheriff had insisted she go with him. So Jean-Luc sat in the front passenger seat of his BMW while Robby drove. He'd been to her house only twice, yet he was feeling a loss.

Heather had to be feeling it a thousand times more.

Her suffering hurt him much more than his own half-destroyed chateau in France. He'd bought it thirty years ago, so he could pretend he had roots going back to an old noble family. But the truth was, he'd never had a family, and a cold pile of stone had not produced the feelings of warmth and comfort he'd craved.

As they drove through the small business section of Schnitzelberg, Jean-Luc noticed a few old buildings were boarded up. "These places could have stone cellars."

"Aye," Robby answered. "We should check them later."

"Ye think Lui could be hiding in one of them?" Ian asked from the backseat of the BMW. "Angus told us a wee bit about Lui."

"Yeah, what a bad dude," Phineas MacKinney added. "Been killin' all your old ladies, huh?"

Jean-Luc shifted in his seat to look behind him. He'd known Ian for centuries. The Vamp might look fifteen, but he was much older. Angus had transformed him at the Battle of Solway Moss in 1542. Seated next to Ian was a tall black man with the unlikely surname of MacKinney.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Jean-Luc Echarpe."

"The name is Phineas, but you can call me Dr. Phang."

"Thank you for coming." He turned to the third man in the backseat. "You're one of Roman's daytime guards."

Phil nodded. "With Roman and Connor gone, there's no one left for me to guard during the day."

The mortal smiled. "But someone's got to watch over you guys."

"You're cool, brother," Phineas announced.

Jean-Luc agreed. A trustworthy mortal was hard to find. The Malcontents viewed mortals as inferior cattle and enjoyed feeding off them and killing them. The Vamps had fed off mortals, too, before Roman's invention of synthetic blood, but they had never been killers. In fact, they tried to protect mortals from the Malcontents. They'd killed hundreds of Malcontents in the Great Vampire War of 1710.

But now, the Malcontent leader, Casimir, was transforming thieves and murderers to swell the ranks of his foul army. Their mission—wipe the good Vamps off the planet and terrorize the mortal world.

Angus had been the Vamp general in 1710, with Jean-Luc as second in command. Angus was always looking for good Vamps to recruit. Finding trustworthy mortals was even trickier. Only a few mortals were willing to risk their lives to protect Vamps. Phil was one of those few.

"Thank you for coming," Jean-Luc told him.

"Not a problem. But I'm going back on a plane." He cast Ian a wary look. "I really don't like hitching a ride when you're teleporting. I just know I'm going to re-materialize someday with my head on backwards."

Ian chuckled. "Angus always checks under his kilt to make sure he dinna lose anything important."

Robby cleared his throat as he turned onto Heather's street. "Do ye think Lui set this fire?"

"Yes." Jean-Luc gripped the brass handle of his cane. "When he attacked two nights ago, he heard me call Heather by name. She was relatively safe until he figured out her last name and where she lives. This fire is his way of announcing that he now knows everything."

"Why didn't he attack her at the fair?" Phil asked.

"He enjoys playing cat and mouse. He'll stretch this out to torture me." Guilt flooded Jean-Luc when he spotted the fire truck in front of Heather's house.

A crowd of people had gathered in the street. The sheriff's car, parked across the street, illuminated the scene with flashing lights. Heather had been so stricken by the news, she hadn't protested at all when Billy dragged her off to his car.

Angus had asked for the keys to her truck, so he could bring her daughter and babysitter to the house. Dazed, Heather had handed over the keys without question. Angus had carefully checked her truck for any explosive device before allowing Emma, Bethany, and Fidelia to climb in. Robby slowed the BMW to a crawl as they approached the crowd. "Mrs. Westfield canna remain in her house."

"I know." Jean-Luc nodded. "I have to convince her to move in with me. It's the only safe place for her now."

Robby parked behind the sheriff's car. As Jean-Luc climbed out, he surveyed the scene. The air was thick with the smell of charred wood, but there were no flames to be seen. The firemen had already put the fire out.

He tapped his cane on the street as he examined the crowd. Lui might still be lurking about. "The house looks fine from the front," Robby commented. "It must have been a small fire."

Jean-Luc nodded. "His intent wasn't to destroy, just to send a message."

Angus parked Heather's small pickup behind the BMW. Emma, Fidelia, and Bethany had all crammed inside, and now they climbed out. The frightened look on the four-year-old's face struck Jean-Luc like a punch in the gut.

Angus strode toward his employees—Robby, Ian, Phineas, and Phil. "Search the area. If Lui engages ye in battle, call for backup."

The guards separated quietly.

Angus stepped close to Jean-Luc and handed him Heather's keys. "Emma and I will be leaving now. 'Tis too late to teleport to Budapest, but we'll go to New York tonight and travel east tomorrow."

"I understand." Jean-Luc pocketed Heather's keys. He knew the hazards of traveling east. A vampire would fry if he teleported into sunlight. "I hope you find Casimir."

"We need to kill him before another war breaks out."

Jean-Luc's chest squeezed with trepidation. He'd known Angus since 1513, the year Roman had transformed them both. They'd become the brothers he'd never had. If he lost them, he would truly be alone. "Be careful, mon ami."

"You, too." Angus rested a hand on Jean-Luc's shoulder. "I've always admired ye in battle. Ye charge in, strong and fearless." He glanced toward Heather's house. "Ye should live the same way. Ye deserve to be happy."

Jean-Luc nodded, comprehending the unsaid message. Angus approved of Heather. The bigger question would be if Heather could approve of him. "God go with you."

"And you, too." Angus turned quickly away. No doubt the big Scotsman didn't want to be seen all teary-eyed. He took Emma by the hand, and the two strode down the street.

Jean-Luc knew they would teleport away as soon as they found a secluded place. A little hand curled around his fingers, and he looked down to see Bethany holding his hand. In her other arm, she held the yellow bear he'd won. After he'd smashed three pyramids of milk bottles in rapid succession, the vendor had gladly handed over the bear in order to keep his entire inventory of milk bottles from being destroyed.

"There's too many people. I can't see," the little girl whispered. "Is my house still there?"

"Yes, and it looks all right from the front. The fire is already gone."

Her bottom lip trembled. "I want my mama."

I want her, too. "We'll find her." He led Bethany through the crowd.

"Who do you think started the fire?" Fidelia asked as she walked alongside them. "Was it that bad guy, Louie?"

"I believe so."

"I should have stayed home. He'd be full of lead if I'd caught him." She patted her purse.

Bethany halted and tugged on Jean-Luc's hand. "I don't want my dollies to get hurt."

His throat constricted at the sight of a tear rolling down her cheek. He squatted in front of her. "If you lose anything, I will replace it."

Her green eyes were the same shade as her mother's. Whereas Heather's eyes could flash with anger, twinkle with mirth, or harden with suspicion, Bethany's eyes were simply wide with worry and need. Deep inside, he felt his heart responding. Was this how a father felt? Mon Dieu, it was something he had never expected to feel. It was…odd.

He'd always thought parenthood was all about protection and duty. He hadn't expected such a strong surge of…tenderness. He wasn't sure he liked it. It felt so damned vulnerable. If anything happened to this little girl, how could he live with himself?

"It will be all right." He wiped her tear away with his thumb and hoped he'd sounded convincing. He straightened and escorted her through the crowd.

"Mama!" Bethany broke loose and ran to the left. The little green bear fell from her pocket onto the street.

Heather was standing about fifteen yards away, talking to the sheriff. She turned at the sound of her daughter's voice, leaned over, and opened her arms.

"Mama, are my toys all right?" Bethany leaped into her mother's arms.

Heather straightened, still holding her daughter. "It's okay, sweetie. The fire didn't reach your room." Her gaze met Jean-Luc's, then she looked away.

He winced at the pain he'd seen there. He picked up the little bear and walked toward them. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" Billy eyed him suspiciously. "Did you have something to do with this?"

"Of course he didn't," Heather jumped in. "He was with us at the fair."

"He could have paid someone to do it," Billy muttered. "He's got a hidden agenda, I can tell."

"I got my hidden agenda right here," Fidelia growled, clutching her purse to her chest.

"How much damage to your house?" Jean-Luc handed the little green bear to Fidelia for safekeeping.

"We were lucky." Heather set her daughter down on the street. "We only lost the kitchen in the back. My dad enlarged it when I was little, so there was an extension jutting off the back of the house. It's mostly gone, but the main part of the house is okay."

"You're lucky to have such a nosy neighbor." Billy pointed to the house on the right. "Thelma saw a strange man lurking around the back of Heather's house. She was already calling 911 when the fire started."

Jean-Luc had no doubt the strange man was Lui. "Did she describe the man?"

"Why do you care, Mr. Sharp?" Billy glowered at him. "Is he someone you know?"

Jean-Luc gritted his teeth. "I would never cause harm to Heather or her family."

"Well, someone has," Billy snarled. "You got any enemies, Heather? Any other boyfriends?"

"No."

"Piss off any students?"

"No."

Billy rocked back on his heels. "I guess it could be your ex. Cody's been acting real weird lately."

Heather pulled her daughter close and glared at Billy. "This is not the time to discuss that."

"For now, the house is off limits. No one goes in."

Heather looked stunned. "But our clothes—"

"Not going in," Billy repeated. "Can't have you mucking up the crime scene."

"That's ridiculous," Heather countered. "The crime happened in the kitchen. We could go through the front door and straight up to our bedrooms."

"I want my toys," Bethany whimpered, hugging her giant yellow bear.

Billy pointed a finger at Heather. "You're not going in. That's final."

Heather's cheeks flushed with anger.

"Don't worry," Jean-Luc assured her. "I'll make sure you have everything you need."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I can't let you bear that expense." She turned to glare at Billy.

"How soon can we get back in?"

He shrugged. "Could be a few weeks. Or months. I'll post a deputy on the street to make sure no one goes inside to take your stuff. Do you have a place to stay?"

She sighed. "I'll figure out something."

"They will stay with me," Jean-Luc announced. "I have a guest room they can use."

Billy's eyes narrowed. "Don't you own that fancy new store on the edge of town?"

"Yes. Le Chique Echarpe."

"Whatever," Billy muttered. "So the store is your residence, too?"

"For the time being, yes."

"Excuse us one minute." Billy grabbed Heather's arm and pulled her a few yards away.

Jean-Luc rested a hand on Bethany's shoulder to keep her from running after her mom. He turned to look at the house, but he could still hear Billy's whispered words.

"I don't know why, but the guy's after you, Heather. He could have set the fire to force you to live with him."

"He wouldn't do that," Heather muttered.

"How do you know? How long have you known this guy?"

Heather sighed. "Since Friday."

"And you're going to live with him? I didn't think you were that stupid."

Jean-Luc clenched the brass handle on his cane. He'd had enough. He marched toward them.

"Do you actually trust him?" Billy asked.

Jean-Luc halted, holding his breath while he waited for Heather's answer.

"Yes," she whispered. "I do."

It was exactly what he'd hoped to hear, but it still sizzled through him like a small shockwave. She turned and met his gaze. A hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes retained some wariness. She might say she trusted him, but he had the distinct impression she was not entirely comfortable with it. He would have to proceed carefully. If she found out the truth about him too soon, he might lose her completely.

There was something unique about Heather. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, perhaps a combination of things. She had a beautiful face and hair, but in his line of work, he saw that often.

She had a body that made his mouth water. He wanted to nibble every inch of her.

Even so, his feelings went beyond simple lust. He liked the way she talked, the way her mind worked, her sense of humor and compassion. He simply liked her. It was so simple, yet felt so profound.

"Will you come home with me?" he asked.

She studied his eyes, and her expression softened. "Yes. Just give me a minute."

Billy made a grab for Heather's arm and scowled when she pulled away. "I'll stop by tomorrow to make sure you're all right." He shot Jean-Luc a warning look.

"She'll be safe with me." He touched her shoulder. Thankfully, she didn't step away.

Billy turned and strode across Heather's front yard. He yelled at a deputy to bring the crime scene tape.

"I can't believe this is happening," Heather whispered as they began running the yellow tape across her front porch. "We have no clothes."

"You're in luck. I make clothes."

She gave him a dubious look. "Do you have designer wear that'll fit me or Bethany? Or Fidelia?"

He glanced at the older woman. She was almost as wide as she was tall. "I have some designer sheets."

Heather rolled her eyes. "The toga look could get old in a few days. I'll just drop by the discount store and pick up a few things. Luckily it's open 24/7."

He winced. "I would prefer you have something nice."

"It's all I can afford right now."

"You will not pay for it." He motioned toward her house. "I am responsible for this."

"You didn't start the fire."

"I know who did."

Her eyes widened. "Are you sure it was him?"

"Yes. This is Lui's sick way of announcing he knows your identity."

A fleeting look of panic crossed her face before she regained control. "I was afraid of that."

"Then you fully realize the danger you are in. Lui will try something worse next time."

"That's why I'm desperate enough to move in with you."

"I thought you trusted me."

She gave him an exasperated look. "Do I have any choice now?"

That hurt. "You can trust me, Heather. I promise I will keep you and your daughter safe."

She searched his eyes. "I do want to trust you. I think I do trust you, but everything is happening so fast. The bear you won for my daughter—that was really very sweet, about the sweetest thing I've ever seen from a man."

"Thank you." He moved closer. "The kiss wasn't bad, either."

Her cheeks blossomed a rosy pink, and she looked away. "I don't usually…I don't know what—"

He hooked a finger under her chin to force her eyes to meet his. Her gaze rose to his chin, then stopped. "I need you to promise me something."

Her gaze lifted and locked with his. "What?"

"You must never leave the studio without a guard. That goes for Fidelia and Bethany, too. You must be protected at all times."

"We can do that."

"And you must follow my orders without hesitation."

She pulled back. "I won't let anyone control me."

"I have no wish to control you. I want to keep you alive."

She bit her bottom lip. "Well, I wouldn't argue with that."

"Good. When Lui attacks, there won't be any time for arguments. You must do as I say."

Her mouth thinned. "You plan to kill him, don't you?"

"I have no choice. It's either him or us."

She shuddered. "For once I'm glad Fidelia has all those guns."

"I'll take you shopping now. My car's over there." He motioned to his BMW.

She frowned. "We'll just get a few things. Some clothes and a few coloring books to keep Bethany occupied. She may go crazy without her toys."

"Really?"

"Have you ever seen a four-year-old with nothing to do? It's not a pretty sight."

"Oh." He glanced at the house, now completely cordoned off with yellow tape. A deputy stood guard at the front steps. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

"How?"

"Trust me." He pointed to his BMW. "Wait in the car. It's not locked. I'll be there shortly."

"What about my truck? My purse was inside."

"I have the keys. Robby will bring it to the studio later."

"Okay." She walked over to Bethany and gave her a hug. While she talked to Fidelia, Jean-Luc sent out a psychic message to Robby, Ian, Phineas, and Phil.

Meet me by Heather's truck. If you see Phil, bring him, too. He wasn't sure how adept the mortal guard was at picking up psychic messages.

Robby was the first to show up. Jean-Luc handed him the keys to Heather's truck with instructions to drive it to the studio. Ian, Phineas, and Phil joined them.

"No sign of Lui?" Jean-Luc asked.

"Nay," Ian answered. "It would help if we knew what he looks like."

"I've never seen him look the same way twice. I recognize his voice, though. And his eyes.

They're black with an odd gleam. You can feel the hatred, but there's something more, something…unhinged."

"So the dude's a psycho," Phineas observed.

"And verra dangerous," Robby added. He gestured toward the crowd. "These people are mortal. Ye can smell the difference."

Phil chuckled. "Are you saying we stink?"

Robby grinned. "Some might say so, but no' me. I think mortals smell…sweet."

Phil shook his head. "I'm so not flattered."

Phineas sniffed and gave the mortal a curious look. "You smell kinda different, bro."

Phil's smile faded, and he exchanged a wary look with Robby. Jean-Luc frowned, sensing an undercurrent he wasn't privy to, but this wasn't the time to discuss it. He asked Phil to join him on the shopping trip, then explained the undercover mission to the three Vamps. "Can you do it?"

"Aye, 'tis a piece of cake," Robby answered. "We'll see ye later."

Jean-Luc was relieved to see Heather and her family sitting in the backseat of the BMW. He climbed into the driver's seat.

Phil settled in the passenger seat, then turned to face the females. "I'm Phil Jones. I'll be guarding you in the daytime."

"Nice to meet you," Heather murmured.

"Hola, Felipe," Fidelia said in a husky voice.

Phil quickly faced front.

At the discount store, Phil was told to accompany Fidelia, while Jean-Luc watched Heather and Bethany.

In the young girls' department, Heather selected a few little T-shirts and shorts from the fifty-percent-off rack. The more she tried to save him money, the more irritated Jean-Luc became. He spotted the best dress the store had to offer and tossed it into the cart.

"She has nice dresses at home," Heather protested.

"You said you wouldn't argue."

She snorted. "That was for times of extreme danger."

"Which could be now. Lui could be lurking in the toy aisle as we speak."

"We'll see about that." She pushed the cart to the toys. One of the wheels made an annoying squeak with every rotation.

Jean-Luc walked behind her, his cane clicking on the linoleum floor, his eyes ever watchful. The store seemed mostly deserted.

Bethany skipped alongside her mother, hugging her yellow bear. She stopped suddenly, her eyes wide. "Look, Mama. That Barbie comes with a crocodile."

Heather turned away and selected a few coloring books. "You have plenty of Barbies at home."

"But not a crocodile-hunting one." Jean-Luc tossed it into the cart.

"Yeah!" Bethany jumped up and down.

Heather whirled around to glare at him. "That was my decision to make."

She was right, but it surprised Jean-Luc how much he enjoyed making the little girl dance with joy. He shifted his weight, frowning. "I will try to restrain myself."

Heather's mouth twitched. "Is it that hard? I swear, if you have any children, they'll be spoiled rotten."

His heart froze for a second, then plummeted to his stomach. He couldn't have children. In that moment between death and transformation, a vampire's sperm died. At sunset each night, his heart jolted back to life, his blood resumed its race through his veins, and his mind snapped back to consciousness. But the sperm remained dead.

Roman, being a brilliant scientist, had found a way around it. He'd taken live human sperm, then erased the donor's DNA and inserted his own. Shanna was already pregnant when Roman had discovered a problem. A Vamp's DNA was not quite the same as a mortal's. Roman had lived in fear with what he'd done to Shanna, but after nine months she'd delivered a healthy baby boy with no fangs and an appetite for his mother's milk.

Jean-Luc realized with a jolt that he could have children. With Roman's procedure, he could actually be a father. His gaze settled on Heather, and he imagined her swelling with his child.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No. Everything's fine." But it wasn't. Now that the seed was planted in his mind, he couldn't ignore it. He'd envied Roman for his loving wife and adorable son. It had never occurred to Jean-Luc that he could have a family, too. Lui had always been in the way, lurking in the shadows as a hidden threat. But the assassin's recent emergence could be a blessing in disguise. Finally Jean-Luc would have the chance to be rid of him. And that opened all sorts of new possibilities.

"You had a strange look on your face." Heather dropped a box of crayons into the cart. "I thought you might be angry."

"I am angry at Lui and determined to be rid of him."

Heather rolled the cart toward the women's department. "I'll be so glad when things are back to normal."

Normal? Was that what she wanted? His vision of the future wavered. How could he convince Heather to marry a vampire and give birth to a child with mutated DNA? It wasn't exactly the American dream.

And was it truly what he wanted? He was very attracted to Heather, but were his feelings true or merely a reaction to the danger they were in? Could he have the kind of love for her that would last through the years? Could he handle marriage to her? Could he handle marriage to any mortal?

Was it fair for Heather to be stuck with a man who was dead during the day? It gave new meaning to the term deadbeat dad. He could be very supportive financially, but he would be inaccessible every day of his family's life.

Still, Roman and Shanna seemed very happy. Jean-Luc wanted that for himself. Was Heather the one?

He frowned while he watched her select the cheapest items from the women's department. Well, he certainly didn't have to worry about her putting him in debt. But she deserved so much more. He would make his own selections for her when they returned to the studio.

"Do I need to dress up for work?" she asked.

"No. You'll be alone during the day, except for Alberto and the guards."

She gave him a curious look. "When do you work?"

"At night. Jet lag. I haven't adjusted yet." He cringed inwardly at his lies. "I feel more creative at night." That much was true. He couldn't even create a heartbeat during the day.

She frowned, apparently confused by the work schedule or lack thereof. "How many hours do you want me to work each week?"

He shrugged. "Let's not worry about it. In fact, if you don't want to work at all, I completely understand. You can take off a week to rest if you like."

"That's very kind, but I think I'd rather stay busy."

He nodded. "Our first priority is your safety. The second one is to stop Lui. The fashion world can survive without us for a little while."

"I understand." When she turned to examine a rack of jeans, he picked up the cheap bra she'd dropped in the cart and quickly checked the size. C cup. That brought a smile to his face.

Bethany's giggle gave him away, and Heather turned to see him holding her bra.

Her eyebrows raised. "Is there a problem?"

He dropped the bra. "Non. It is a lovely size."

A blush invaded her cheeks. "I need to lose ten pounds. Well, twenty actually."

"Heather—"

"I couldn't lose the last ten pounds of baby fat—"

"Heather, I think—"

"And then I gained ten more with too much chocolate therapy during my divorce."

"Heather, I think you are perfect the way you are."

Her blush deepened. "You're just saying that."

"Because I believe it, yes."

"But you design for skinny models."

He shrugged. "People expect to see them on the runway. It doesn't mean I prefer them that way. I like you, Heather. I thought I made that clear earlier tonight."

She tossed a pair of jeans into the cart and turned away. He realized it was hard for her to accept a compliment. "You don't say my name right. Or Bethany's."

He smiled. Was this a challenge? "You don't say my name right, either."

"I do, too." She dropped a plain green T-shirt into the cart. "But I like Jean-Luc better than Jean. Jean is so plain, but Jean-Luc is powerful and sexy and…captainish."

He liked the powerful and sexy part. "What is captainish?"

"Like a starship captain. You're Captain Jean-Luc." She gave him a wry smile. "You're used to giving orders."

"You say it like John-Luke."

"Well, duh. That's your name."

"Not in French. You should say it as the French do."

"Oh, really?" She planted a hand on one hip and shifted her weight to one foot. "Enlighten me."

"As you wish." He stepped closer. "First, we do not pronounce the n in Jean."

"How lazy of you."

He lifted a brow. "The n signifies a nasal a. Jean. Try it."

She wrinkled up her nose and produced the most nasal-sounding a he'd ever heard. "Was that French enough for you?" She smiled sweetly.

He stifled a grin. "Not yet. There's the matter of Luc."

"Luke."

"Non. Luc with the French u."

"Was that a vowel, or did you just suck a lemon?"

He laughed. "Come now, give it a try."

"I wouldn't know how to produce such a strange sound."

He stepped closer. "It is easy, cherie." He raised her chin with one bent finger. "Pucker your lips."

Her cheeks flushed pink. "I'm not puckering up in the middle of a store. Or in front of my daughter."

"What are you afraid of?" He grazed her lips with his thumb. "I thought you trusted me."

Bethany giggled. "Go ahead, Mama!"

With a huff, she stepped back. "It's a conspiracy."

Jean-Luc winked at her daughter. "Bethany is a very clever girl."

"I am!" She bounced around, grinning.

Heather glared at him. "You're still not saying our names correctly."

He knew his th sounds came out wrong. It was a typical problem since the sound didn't exist in French. Still, he couldn't resist goading her, so he repeated her earlier words. "Enlighten me."

"It's quite simple really. Watch how I do it. See how the tongue goes against the top teeth?" She demonstrated.

He moved close and leaned over to study her mouth. "I see."

"Now you try. Tongue against the top teeth."

He stuck out his tongue and with a quick movement, he pulled her against him and touched his tongue to her teeth.

"Aagh!" She pulled back. "Your teeth, not mine!"

Bethany erupted in giggles.

Jean-Luc stepped back with an innocent look. "I must have misunderstood."

"Yeah, right." She glowered at him, but then her mouth twitched. She looked away, grinning.

"You are impossible."

He smiled. "But you still like me?"

She slanted him an annoyed look. "Yes. I must be out of my mind."

Bethany hugged her yellow bear. "I like you, too."

A soothing warmth settled in Jean-Luc's chest. Here, in this godforsaken discount store far away from the glamorous world of high fashion, he was experiencing one of the most beautiful nights of his long existence.