LITMIR.BIZ

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his offer of assistance.

      Leera placed her hand on his. He tugged her to her feet then shut the door. The cool night air passed between them. As they walked in tandem, he narrowed the distance.

      A soft glow flooded the porch. He stopped on the step just below.

      “I’m not usually like this.” She shielded her eyes with her hand.

      “Listen.” He lowered her hand from her face. “Don’t apologize to me for having a heart. My only hope is that you are open to sharing the joys this strange world has to offer once more.”

      She blinked, sending tears down her cheeks. “You are a very strange man, Vaihan Louchian.”

      “I’m no man. I’m undead, but very much alive in soul. When I’m with you, my corpse comes to life.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the velvety surface. A tornado of hunger ripped through him and saliva pooled in his mouth. His body prepared to paralyze his meal. The frenzy in his every cell wreaked havoc and reminded him that though he wasn’t living, he still existed. He peeled his lips from her flesh, careful not to leave any toxin behind.

      She let out a gasp and stepped into the house.

      “I’ll pick you up Thursday at seven PM.” This assignment was a disaster. The woman’s grief ran so deep, and yet, he felt drawn to her.

      “On the nose.” With a smile, she closed the door. The lock clicked and her footsteps moved away from the entrance. What if the mechanism had failed? She’d have no way of knowing that someone could break in through the front. Better he check. Hand on the doorknob, he turned and pushed in. Resistance from the lock kept the door closed.

      With that he headed to the car. What if the force he’d used to verify she was safe had broken the lock? If he didn’t confirm her security and something happened, he’d regret it. On the other hand, going back would only feed into his OCD. He slipped into the car. The light from the large front window went out. She hadn’t turned the alarm system on. Nothing would alert her to an intruder. And he hadn’t the decency to check the woman’s lock a second time, out of fear of his condition. He stood and marched to the porch.

      Not to alarm her, he cradled the handle with his fingers and slowly turned. The springs inside the lock mechanism squealed. Well, that was a smooth move, Casanova. He hoped she hadn’t heard.

      The knob slipped from his hand and the door swung open. “What are you doing?” Leera stood in a satin beige housecoat. Her nipples were hard buds, pressing to the thin material and her freshly washed face beamed.

      Lying wouldn’t help his cause, at this point. “Checking that your door was locked.” He backed away. “You didn’t latch the chain.”

      “I usually do that when I’m off to bed, and I hadn’t yet finished getting ready.” The sharp edge of her eyes softened, as did the rigid line of her shoulders. “I appreciate you checking up on me.”

      Warmth fluttered inside him. She wasn’t angry with him. “You look beautiful.”

      “Thank you.” Her lips spread into a wide smile over her teeth. “I promise to put the chain on then turn the alarm on.”

      “Good night, Ms. Waltz.”

      “You too, Vaihan.” The door slid into the frame. Mechanisms clanked and chains rattled then hooked. No way could he check all over again. She’d think he was crazy.

      Every step toward his vehicle, his legs felt heavier. He should at least verify once more that she was safe, shouldn’t he? No. No way.

      * * * *

      Vaihan pushed the door closed to his brownstone.

      Flint rushed out from the kitchen, wiping the blood on his hand onto a dishtowel. “Quinn and Sam are grounded again,” he said, and tapped his foot on the hardwood floor.

      As the elder of the three, Flint’s patience level with the two newer undead guys waned.

      “What might they have done this time?” Vaihan fixed his gaze on Flint, trying to suppress his amusement.

      “They offered to buy a woman’s baby.” With his hands to the heavens, he shook his head.

      Vaihan chuckled. “Did she slap one, or both? Were the police contacted?” Most of his neighbors knew his house acted as a halfway house for newer undead. They had tried to have him thrown out but those attempts went unanswered.

      “No. She crossed the road and kept looking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t followed. Embarrassing.” He shook his head. “You’re home early.”

      “I am.”

      “Did they not play well this evening?” Flint drummed his chin with his fingers.

      “The performance was exquisite.” And so was Leera.

      “What’s that smile about?” He leaned on the wall.

      Vaihan’s BlackBerry vibrated. “I need to take this.” As he leaped up the stairs, he withdrew the device from the holster.

      “Hello, Vaihan?” a man questioned in a high-pitched voice.

      He pressed the smartphone to his ear. “Yes, Ralph...”

      “I don’t mean to call you so late. I was catching up on some paperwork and wanted to talk to you about this letter you want me to send to Jean Denoix’s widow’s lawyer. We’ve known each other a long time. This woman is trying to move on with her life. Let this go.” A heavy sigh was breathed into his ear.

      Maybe the woman didn’t need to hear what her husband had said to him in the moments before his death, but he couldn’t rest until she told him herself to let this go. Just because he couldn’t stay for the police with the dead body in his trunk didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about the man’s widow. “I want you to track down the client.”

      “I can’t do that. I’d be breaking a whole bunch of laws.”

      “And suddenly that is an issue.” Fine time for him to decide he wanted to only do things aboveboard. “I’m calling in all the favors you owe me. Get this for me, and you get a clean slate.”

      “You’re such a bastard.”

      When he had to be. “Thanks, Ralph. We’ll meet up once you have a name so there won’t be a record of the exchange of information. No one will ever know. Call me when you have what I want.” He pressed the End Call button.

       Chapter 7

      Rowley hated calling Peter’s house. Speaking to the missus was like speaking to a dim-witted teen. Leera’s sister in-law was a piece of work, and if he didn’t need Peter at Devin’s arraignment in the morning, he’d wait and call the office.

      “Hello,” the doe on the other side of the line said.

      “Hello, Meg, is Peter around?” Rowley asked.

      “I sent him out to get me ice cream–pregnant woman craving. Did you want me to let him know you called?” The pitch of her voice annoyed him.

      If his purpose wasn’t to speak to Peter, why the fuck would he call? The woman wasn’t too bright. Pretty, but not much else. “I’d appreciate that very much.”

      “Sure thing. Rowley, did you hear the latest about Leera?”

      “No.” His heart pounded in his chest. “What about her?”

      “She’s going on a date. Isn’t that so exciting?”

      Not in the least. “Oh, really? Who’s the lucky chap?”

      “Well, he isn’t a chap. He’s one of those undead. Vaihan Louchian. You know of him, right?”

      The creature was pursuing his woman. “Yeah, the Special Advisor to the President in Undead Relations.”

      “Vaihan

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