I wiped at my eyes. “Letting Cal into the house. Forgetting that Mr. Marchand was a vampire just because he happened to look like a cuddly old man. A series of really bad decisions.”

“Never trust a man who looks like Colonel Sanders,” Ben agreed sagely.

I laughed, swiping at my cheeks. Gigi frowned. “What do you mean, letting Cal into the house was a mistake?”

“Well, do you see him here?” I asked angrily. “I mean, the man turns our lives upside down. I’m attacked at his house by the same creep who messed around with your brain to pump you for information. I nearly get killed trying to save his butt. But is he anywhere to be found? No. I’ll bet he lit out of the house as soon as the Council vacuumed up Mr. Marchand with their little Dirt Devils.”

Gigi shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t been back at the house long enough to see if he’s still there.”

“Where have you been staying?” I asked, my eyes narrowed.

“Over at Miss Andrea’s house,” she said, adding quietly, “and at Ben’s.”

Ben added hastily, “Our rooms are on different floors. And my parents said she can stay as long as she wants.” He laughed. “My dad didn’t ever think I’d get a girlfriend. He and Mom are thrilled.”

I tried to calculate which could be more dangerous to my sister’s well-being, staying with her hormonal, adoring boyfriend or being exposed to what Dick Cheney considered appropriate conversation in front of a teenage girl. I pressed the little red button that released my pain meds and wondered how often I was allowed a dose.

Better yet, did they sell York Peppermint Patties in the gift shop?

“And for the record, Cal’s at the Council offices. Ophelia said something about needing to debrief him,” Ben said, looking at Gigi with an expression of acute male discomfort.

“I’ll bet she did,” I muttered.

I felt a strange, warm sensation spreading from my arm through my chest. It took me a second to recognize that it was the morphine drip. I sighed, relaxing into the stiff hospital mattress, as Gigi tried to turn the topic back to more pleasant matters: their “sucky” prom theme, “Almost Paradise”; a scandal at their rival school involving the valedictorian, the shop teacher, and Chatroulette; the stream of vampires that had been showing up at our house to leave little presents on the porch. And not lame presents, either—spa gift certificates, bottles of wine, exotic plants. Gigi said that the vampires had started visiting the night after my accident to offer tokens of appreciation, now that my address had become common knowledge on the vampire news network. Because Ben and his parents weren’t comfortable with so many vampires approaching the house with Gigi there, he said that Jane and Andrea had been appointed to accept the gifts.

“I wonder if I have to write thank-you notes,” I mumbled. “Do vampires do thank-you notes? Geeg?”

I looked over to see Gigi dozing off, her head tilting back uncomfortably against the hard plastic chair.

“Ben, why don’t you take Gigi home to get some sleep?” I asked. “That angle can’t be good for her neck.”

“But you just woke up!” Gigi protested weakly as she raised her head.

“So you know I’m going to be OK.” I sighed. “Go home, get some sleep. In your own room … on a separate floor from Ben’s. Ben, would your mother be willing to sleep somewhere between your bedroom doors as a precaution?”

“Where do you think she’s been camped out for the last week?” Ben muttered.

“Fine,” Gigi said, yawning widely. “But I need to go home and grab some clothes.”

“Be careful, OK?” I told her. “If you go by the house and anything seems off, don’t even go inside, just drive to Ben’s.”

Gigi stepped closer, leaning over the bed rail as she kissed my forehead. “What if Cal’s there? What do you want me to tell him?”

With fresh pain consuming me, I wasn’t sure how to answer. I shook my head.

“Why are you crying?” Gigi asked, pushing my hair back.

“Because you’re yanking on my IV.”

—

I dozed off and on throughout the afternoon, grateful for the private room. I was sure that Ophelia had arranged it, because my insurance company certainly wasn’t going to cough up for it.

I woke up to fingertips trailing gently over my cheeks. Soft lips pressed against my temple. I felt the corners of my mouth tilt up. “I love you.” I sighed, opening my eyes and expecting my vampire to be sitting at my bedside.

There was a strange squelching noise a foot from my bed, shoes turning on freshly cleaned tiles. My eyes fluttered open. The deep brown eyes I expected to be hovering near were usurped by baby blue.

I recoiled, yelping when the movement pulled at my IV restraints. “Paul!” I exclaimed.

“Hey, Petal,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.”

“Hi,” I whispered, squinting up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, where else would I be?” he asked, pushing the hair back from my face. “My girl’s hurt, I come running.”

“I’m not—”

“My girl. I know,” he conceded. “I let you go. I wasn’t smart enough to hold on to you.”

“I think there were equally ‘not smart’ actions on both sides,” I admitted.

“Could you forgive me?” he asked. “Iris, I can’t tell you how I felt, hearing that you were hurt. I didn’t know what I would do if something happened to you. I don’t want to be without you. I want to ask you if you could consider marrying me. I’ll be a good husband to you. And I’ll make more of an effort with Gigi. I didn’t realize how important you two are to each other, until I saw her reacting to seeing you in this hospital room. Won’t you please marry me?”

He pulled a black velvet box from his pocket and showed me the little round solitaire that would have looked very elegant on my hand. He pressed the box into my palm, but my fingers refused to close around it.

It would be so easy. I could have a normal life, with a normal, if unexciting, man. I could have the white-picket-fence fantasy, a husband, a house, kids, and a dog. No more drama. No near-death experiences. No having a backup plan that included being turned into a vampire.

But it would be a lie. I didn’t love Paul. I never did. I had affection for him. I wanted to be his friend, the kind of friend he didn’t have sex with—and that was it. I wanted to see him at the Piggly Wiggly without feeling awkward.

I closed the box, squeezing his hand. “I really appreciate it, but no. I can’t.”

He frowned, nodding. “Can I ask why?”

“Because you’re right. We could make this work. We could put our noses to the grindstone and make this a marriage. But it shouldn’t be that hard, Paul. And in that whole speech, you didn’t mention loving me.”

He sank back into his chair, looking a little sheepish. “I didn’t, did I?”

“We don’t love each other like married people should.”

He protested, “But we could—”

“No, Paul. That’s my final answer.”

“I’ve really lost you, haven’t I?” He smiled sadly. “To that vampire?”

I nodded. “You’ve lost me, as much as I lost you. I’m sorry, Paul.”

“Well, at least I tried.” He sighed. “But if my mama asks, I made a grand sweeping gesture that you were just barely able to resist, OK?”

“I’ll tell her there was groveling involved,” I promised.

“Thanks. She’s always liked you,” he said.

“Would have been nice to know that when we were dating,” I muttered.

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss me. I ducked away, making him pause.

“No?”

I shook my head. And as he was backing away, we heard a cold voice from the doorway.

“Is there a problem here?” Ophelia was standing in the doorway, wearing a tight white minidress that could be termed a nurse’s uniform, in the porniest sense of the word, complete with a starched white cap.

“No,” I said, yawning. “My friend was just leaving.”

Paul frowned at Ophelia but squeezed my hand and left without a fuss. “Good-bye, Iris.”

“Good-bye.” I sighed. “I’m glad to see you, Ophelia.”

“I see the pain meds are kicking in,” she said, sauntering closer. She looked over her shoulder. “Close the door, would you?”

A lankier vampire followed her, shutting the door behind him.

“Oh, shit!” I yelped, springing out of my languid state. “Ophelia, that’s—”

“Mr. Dodd, I know. I thought the two of you should be formally introduced, since he is about to offer you the rarest of gifts. The vampire apology.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, that’s his line.”

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Dodd muttered.

“For?” Ophelia prompted.

“For being ‘grossly inappropriate’ when I met you at my house, leading you to think that I was a threat to you, when I was supposed to be observing and protecting you.” He said it in a monotone so flat that he could have been reciting a telemarketer’s script.

“What?”

Ophelia said, “Mr. Dodd was supposed to make contact with you, just enough that you would remember his face and not panic if you happened to see him. Instead …”

Awkward silence.

Ophelia kicked his ankle and hissed. “Instead …”

“I came on to you,” he mumbled. “Usually, when I put on the charm, ladies prove quite receptive.” He followed this remark with a sullen little sneer, then resumed looking down at his feet.

“He was watching you on the rare occasions when you ventured into public at night,” Ophelia said. “We knew that Cal couldn’t be with you, and I thought it would be helpful for you to have some protection. I didn’t mean to give you something else to worry about.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered again.

“That night at the movies!” I exclaimed.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You sent me running home into the arms of a crazy teenage vampire stalker.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“You know, somehow that doesn’t quite cover it,” I shot back.

“Oh, there will be time for groveling,” Ophelia assured me. “Mr. Dodd is in charge of guarding your door here at the hospital. He’ll be waiting outside every minute of every night.”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” I protested.

“He will fetch you magazines, chocolates, cuddly stuffed toys. And he will taste-test every meal the staff brings you, to make sure it hasn’t been tampered with.”

“Won’t eating human food make him sick?” I asked.

Ophelia gave Mr. Dodd a nasty grin. “Yes.”

Ah, that would be the point of this exercise in humiliation.

I settled back against the pillows, resigned to having a grumpy, resentful vampire bodyguard. Again, I wondered about Cal, but pride and the desire for continued blissful ignorance kept me from asking Ophelia. I wasn’t going to lose any sleep or time on him, I promised myself. If I never saw his face again, I would survive. If he showed up here, I might be willing to speak to him. But that was about as much consideration as I was willing to give him at that point.

“Wait, so if he was keeping an eye on me, what was up with Mr. Crown? Why was he at the movie theater?”

“Well, I’d just managed to find a copy of the welcome basket delivery schedule, listing Peter as the contact for Cal’s house. Before I could make it to Peter’s house to question him, one of his more loyal humans at the Council office contacted him to warn him that I was coming.”