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stupid fantasy. That’s all it had been. He’d needed to feel like a man again, just a man, and she’d wanted someone to take care of her. The minute she’d seen the truth, she’d turned on him and run back to her family. Her father had told the entire town. They’d come for him then. Captured him. Tortured him.

      They’d known he was a bloodsucker with the strength of ten men. But there’d been five times that many. They’d overpowered him, chained him up, beat him. They’d been ready to stake him, too, but he’d managed to work his hand free just in time. He’d made it out, but barely. He wasn’t risking his afterlife or his heart ever again.

      Love—if there even was such a thing—sucked, no pun intended, and nothing good could come of it.

      Not for Brent.

      And certainly not for Cody.

      His brother might be playing at normal now, but he wasn’t. He never would be and eventually the shit would hit the fan and he would have to leave.

      “I’ve got Dillon compiling a list of all the Rose Braddocks in the United States,” Brent told him, determined to pull him onto a safer subject. One he could actually do something about. “Once he’s done, I’ll start checking them out.”

      “Before the wedding?”

      Cody looked so nervous for a split second that Brent couldn’t help himself. “I’ll be there next Saturday for the ceremony, I just can’t promise anything else.”

      “You can’t or you won’t?”

      “What difference does it make?” He shrugged. “So what’s with the blue? I thought most tuxedos were black?”

      “Miranda likes blue. She says it brings out the blue in my eyes.”

      Brent grinned. “You’re worse off than I thought, little bro.”

      “Yeah,” Cody admitted, but there was none of the surprise or worry Brent would have expected at such an admission. His brother actually looked happy. “The house is almost done.” When Brent turned a questioning look on Cody, he added, “The one I’ve been building for the past six months? The one I’ve told you about a dozen times? My wedding gift to Miranda?” Brent shrugged and Cody added, “They just put the floors in yesterday. There are still a few minor things left to do like the phone jacks and the cable hookup, but for the most part it’s finished. I spent the day out there yesterday to make sure everything got done.”

      “With workers in and out?”

      “There’s a basement that locks from the inside. The workers only have access to the front door.” His gaze met Brent’s. “If you need a place to crash, I keep a key stashed near the front porch that unlocks the basement. You could camp out until the wedding.”

      “The motel’s just fine.”

      “I’d really like you to take a look and tell me what you think about the place.”

      “Does it matter what I think?”

      “No,” his brother said in all honesty, “but I’d still like you to see it. It’s out off old Farm Road 86, about six miles past the turn-off. We could head over after this and I could show you around.”

      Brent shook his head. “I’m meeting Dillon. So do you have a guest list?” he asked, suddenly eager to ease the flash of disappointment in his brother’s gaze. Cody’s expression quickly shifted into surprise, and Brent added, “Just because I’m not your best man doesn’t mean I can’t throw you a bachelor party.”

      “You don’t have to—“

      “Just hand it over. A week from tonight. Mark your calendar.” He took the paper Cody pulled from his pocket and shoved it into his jeans. Pushing to his feet, he said, “I gotta go.”

      “I was thinking you might want to stop off after you swing by Dillon’s and hang out with me and Miranda. I know she would love it. She wants to get to know you.”

      “Dillon has a lot leads. It might take a while.”

      Cody looked ready to argue, but then he shrugged. “Keep me posted.”

      Brent nodded and walked out of the bridal shop.

      Ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of a renovated service station with a neon blue sign that read Skull Creek Choppers gleaming in the front glass window. It was the last place he would expect to find a nest of vampires, but then that was the point. The place was ultra small town with its antique gas pumps and old-fashioned Goo Goo Clusters sign. Unassuming. Inconspicuous.

      Safe.

      For now, Brent reminded himself. It wouldn’t last. It never lasted.

      He rang the buzzer on the high tech security pad sitting next to the door. A split-second later, a lock released and the door opened. He walked into the small room that housed the office portion of the motorcycle manufacture. A tall, muscular man sat in front of a state-of-the-art computer system. He didn’t glance up. He didn’t have to.

      Dillon Cash was a computer guru and the third member of the infamous trio that made up Skull Creek Choppers. He worked with Jake McCall and Garrett Sawyer, both vampires and geniuses when it came to chopper design and construction. Brent had never ridden one of their bikes because he was more of a muscle car kind of guy, but he’d admired their designs more than once.

      “So what’s up?” he asked Dillon. “Did you find anything specific?”

      “Not yet, but I’ve posted several comments on the different vampire blogs out there detailing Rose and her physical description. It’s a long shot, but it worked once before when we were looking for Garrett’s maker.” He handed over a list of different blog sites. “I’ll be keeping an eye on the comments, but you might want to check things out to. That way if anyone posts anything that sounds familiar to you, you can let me know. In the meantime, I did a search for every Rose Braddock in the continental United States.”

      “And?”

      “There are over three hundred of them. I ruled some out based on background, birth certificates, etc., which leaves one hundred and thirty-six possibilities. That is, if she’s even using her same name.” Dillon handed over a print-out. “I’m doing more detailed searches to narrow it down, but it’s going to take time. Speaking of which,” he glanced at his watch, “I’ve got to run. I printed out the various blogs I commented on if you want to monitor them yourself. You might recognize something familiar. Meanwhile, we bide our time and keep looking.”

      “What’s the hurry?”

      “It’s date night. If I’m late, she’ll kill me.” He grinned. “Again.”

      “Damn straight I will.” The comment came from the attractive blonde who appeared in the doorway. Brent caught her gaze, but he couldn’t read anything behind the twinkle in her eyes.

      She came up to Dillon and slid an arm around him. “We need to hurry. The movie starts in five minutes.” Her gaze met Brent’s. “How’s the search going?”

      “It’s going.”

      “Keep the faith. If she’s out there, Dillon will find her.” She smiled up at Dillon. “He found Garrett’s maker.”

      “That’s what I’ve been told. Thanks, man.”

      “Don’t mention it,” Dillon said.

      “Do you have a girlfriend?” the female vampire asked point-blank.

      “Excuse me?”

      “Do you have a girlfriend?”

      “I don’t do girlfriends.”

      “Ahh,” a knowing gleam lit her eyes, “a boyfriend then.”

      “I don’t have a boyfriend either.”

      She shrugged. “Give it some

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