A Bite to Remember

  LYNSAY SANDS

  A Bite To Remember

  Contents

  Vincent pulled the front door open.

  One

  “Vincent? Are you there? If you’re there, pick up the…

  Two

  “So the call was from your production assistant, telling you…

  Three

  Jackie stood to investigate the woman looking for Vincent, only…

  Four

  Vincent rolled over, opened his eyes and peered at the…

  Five

  Jackie stared down at her chili and ground her teeth…

  Six

  Vincent was disappointed when he returned to the kitchen to…

  Seven

  “Perfect timing,” Tiny announced as Jackie and Vincent stepped into…

  Eight

  “Where’s Jackie?” Vincent asked the question between bites of the…

  Nine

  “I’m guessing this is Stephano Notte?” Jackie asked, unable to…

  Ten

  Jackie pushed the button to open the driveway gate, moved…

  Eleven

  The nightclub was loud, hot, dark, and crowded.

  Twelve

  The storeroom was empty when Jackie opened the door, and…

  Thirteen

  “Lay her on the table.”

  Fourteen

  It was a piercing shriek that woke Vincent up. He…

  Fifteen

  “I thought you might be hungry,” Vincent said as he…

  Sixteen

  “Neil must have closed down the office so everyone could…

  Seventeen

  “Slow down,” Jackie laughed as Vincent charged up the stairs.

  Eighteen

  If Lily was immortal, why did she have hazel eyes?

  Nineteen

  “You may as well stop pretending. I know you can…

  About the Author

  Other Books by Lynsay Sands

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Vincent pulled the front door open.

  “Vincent Argeneau?” the woman asked.

  When he nodded, she stuck out her hand. “I’m Jackie Morrisey and this is Tiny McGraw. I believe Bastien called you about us?”

  Vincent stared at her hand but—rather than take it—pushed the door closed and lifted the phone back to his ear as he turned away. “Bastien, she’s mortal!”

  “Did you just slam the door in Jackie’s face?” Bastien asked with amazement. “I heard the slam, Vincent. Don’t be so damned rude.”

  “Hello!” he said impatiently. “She’s mortal. Bad enough she’s female, but I need someone who knows about our ‘special situation’ to deal with this problem. She—”

  “Jackie does know,” Bastien said dryly. “Do you think I’d send you an uninitiated mortal? Have a little faith.” A sigh traveled down the phone line. “She has a bit of an attitude when it comes to our kind, but is the best in the business. Now open the door for the woman.”

  “But she’s mortal and…a girl!”

  One

  “Vincent? Are you there? If you’re there, pick up the phone.”

  Vincent Argeneau forced one eyelid upward and peered around the dark room. His home office, he saw, managing to make out the shape of his desk by the sliver of light coming through the door cracked open to the hallway. He’d fallen asleep on the couch in his office.

  “Vincent?”

  “Yeah?” He sat up and glanced around for the owner of that voice, then realized it was coming through his answering machine on the desk. Giving his head a shake, Vincent got to his feet and stumbled across the room. He snatched up the cordless phone, dropped into his desk chair, and growled, “Bastien?”

  “Vincent? Sorry to wake you, cousin. I waited as late as I could before calling.”

  Vincent grunted and leaned back in the chair, running his free hand over his face. “What time is it?”

  “Five P.M. here in New York. I guess that makes it about two there in L.A.,” Bastien said apologetically.

  “Two,” Vincent muttered. No wonder he was exhausted. He’d been up until 9 A.M. dealing with phone calls, then had drawn the blackout curtains in the room and lain down on the couch here rather than go to his bed. He hadn’t wanted to miss Bastien’s call.

  “Are you awake?”

  “Yeah.” Vincent scrubbed his hand over his face again, then reached out to turn on his desk lamp. Blinking in the increased light, he said, “I’m up. Were you able to get a hold of that private detective company you said was so good?”

  “That’s why I couldn’t call any later than this. They’re on their way. In fact, their plane was scheduled to land at LAX fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Jesus!” Vincent sat up abruptly in his seat. “That was fast.”

  “Jackie doesn’t waste time. I explained the situation to her and she booked a flight right away. Fortunately for you, she’d just finished a big job for me and was able to put off and delegate whatever else she had on the roster.”

  “Wow,” Vincent murmured, then frowned as he realized what Bastien had said. “She? The detective’s a woman?”

  “Yes, and she’s good. Really good. She’ll track down your saboteur and have this whole thing cleaned up in no time.”

  “If you say so,” Vincent said quietly. “Thanks, Bastien. I appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem. Happy to help.”

  Vincent opened his mouth to speak, then paused as he heard a woman’s muffled voice in the background. He began to grin. “Is that Terri?”

  “Yes. She says hello, and says to warn you—” He paused to clear his throat. “Er…Vincent, mother is on her way out there too.”

  “What?” Vincent stood abruptly. The news was rather shocking. Aunt Marguerite hadn’t visited his home in decades. Usually, he visited her in Canada. She’d chosen the worst possible time to decide to visit sunny California. “Why?”

  “Er…well, that’s a funny thing really.” Bastien gave a nervous laugh. “It seems she’s come to the conclusion that you may be lonely and depressed.”

  “What!” Vincent gaped at the phone.

  “Yeah. She thinks your being here in New York and witnessing Terri and I getting together—as well as seeing my siblings with their life mates—may have upset you, your still being single and all. She seems to think you may need cheering up or maybe some help seeing to the situation.”

  “Dear God,” Vincent muttered, raking one hand through his hair.

  “Yeah, I thought you might feel that way,” Bastien said sympathetically. “I did try to dissuade her from going, but…You know how my mother is once she gets an idea into her head.”

  “Dear God,” Vincent repeated.

  “She’s on a later flight,” Bastien informed him. “She won’t arrive until six o’clock your time and she’s arranged for a car rental so you won’t have to pick her up.”

  “Does she know about what’s going on here?”

  “No,” Bastien said. “And unless you want her interfering, I suggest you not tell her.”

  Vincent gave a bark of laughter. Interfere was an understatement. If Marguerite Argeneau knew someone was sabotaging her nephew’s business, she’d be determined to track them down and sort it out. She was very protective of those she loved and he was fortunate enough to count himself in that category.

  “Dear God,” he said unhappily.

  “Just stick her in a guest room, give her a bunch of tourist pamphlets, and let her entertain herself,” Bastien suggested. “She’ll get bored and move on eventually.”

  Vincent grimaced, thinking nothing was ever that easy. “I’m guessing I wasn’t expected to pick up this Jackie and…” He paused, tryi
ng to recall the second name Bastien had mentioned.

  “Tiny,” he supplied. “No, they’ll have a rental too. Otherwise I’d have called sooner.”

  “Right.” Vincent sighed.

  “I’m guessing you probably have about half an hour before they get there. I figured that was enough time to get ready.”

  “Yeah,” Vincent agreed.

  “Okay. I guess I’ll let you go wake yourself up before they arrive.”

  “Yeah, okay. Hey, tell Terri—” Vincent paused and glanced toward the hallway as a knock sounded at his front door. Frowning, he stood and headed out of the office, taking the cordless phone with him. “Hang on. There’s someone at the door.”

  “That’s probably the package I sent out for Mom,” Bastien said. “If so, you’ll have to get it in the refrigerator right away.”

  “Must be nice having your meals prepared and delivered,” Vincent said dryly as he walked up the hall.

  “We’ll eventually sort that out too, cousin,” Bastien said quietly, and Vincent felt guilty for bellyaching. Bastien had set his scientists to work on finding a cure for his problem years ago. If there wasn’t one yet, it wasn’t for lack of trying.

  “Is it the blood?” Bastien asked as Vincent pulled the front door open.

  “Umm…no,” he answered, his gaze running over the duo on the marble step before him. He’d never set eyes on such an unlikely pair. The woman was blond, the man a brunette. She was extremely short and curvy, he was a great behemoth of a man who stood well over six feet. She was dressed in a black business suit with a crisp white blouse underneath, he wore casual cords and a sweater in pale cream. They were a study in contrasts.

  “Vincent Argeneau?” the woman asked.

  When he nodded, she stuck out her hand. “I’m Jackie Morrisey and this is Tiny McGraw. I believe Bastien called you about us?”

  Vincent stared at her hand, but—rather than take it—pushed the door closed and lifted the phone back to his ear as he turned away. “Bastien, she’s mortal!”

  “Did you just slam the door in Jackie’s face?” Bastien asked with amazement. “I heard the slam, Vincent. Jesus! Don’t be so damned rude.”

  “Hello!” he said impatiently. “She’s mortal. Bad enough she’s female, but I need someone who knows about our special situation to deal with this problem. She—”

  “Jackie does know,” Bastien said dryly. “Did you think I’d send you an uninitiated mortal? Have a little faith.” A sigh traveled down the phone line. “Look, her father started the Morrisey Detective Agency and did lots of work for us. She’s known about us since she was in her late teens and has always kept the secret. Jackie has run the company since her father’s death. She has a bit of an attitude when it comes to our kind, but is the best in the business. Now, open the goddamned door for the woman.”

  “But she’s mortal and…a girl,” Vincent pointed out again, still not happy with the situation.

  “I’m hanging up, Vincent.” Bastien hung up.

  Vincent scowled at the phone and almost dialed him back, but then thought better of it and returned to the door. He needed help tracking down the saboteur out to ruin him. He’d give Ms. Morrisey and her giant a chance. If they sorted out the mess for him, fine. If not, he could hold it over Bastien’s head for centuries.

  Grinning at the idea, Vincent reached for the doorknob.

  “The nerve of the man!” Jackie scowled at the door that had just slammed shut in her face. She was exhausted after their long flight and this was the last welcome she’d expected after dropping everything to fly out here to help Vincent Argeneau.

  “It isn’t the warmest reception we’ve had,” Tiny agreed, his voice as deep and powerful as mountains shifting.

  Jackie snorted at the understatement, then glanced at the big man curiously as he moved sideways on the wide marble stoop under the portico at the entrance of the two-story mansion. She raised an eyebrow in question as he peered through one of the narrow windows on either side of the entrance, but was then distracted by the low murmur of a voice coming from the other side of the dark oak door.

  Frowning, Jackie leaned forward and pressed an ear to the wood, trying to make out what Vincent Argeneau was saying. Her eyes narrowed and she began to fume on hearing the protest that she was mortal and a girl.

  The door suddenly opened again and Jackie straightened abruptly. A blush tried to make its way up her face at being caught with her ear to the door and that just made her angrier. It put her on the offensive. Before he could say a word, she spat out the facts from the file she’d studied on the plane.

  “You were born in 1592 to Victor and Marion Argeneau, both vampires—or immortals as you prefer to be called. Marion was good friends with her sister-in-law Marguerite Argeneau and you were, in fact, born two months behind Marguerite’s son Bastien. The two of you spent a good deal of time together growing up and are as close as brothers. Your mother died in 1695, burnt at the stake while pregnant with what would have been your sibling. Your father has been reclusive since then, spending his time acting as an enforcer for the council. You see very little of him.

  “You decided to become an actor when you met Shakespeare at ten. You’ve traveled the world, staying no more than ten years in each place before moving across the globe and starting again. You’ve been in California eight years, ten years in England before that, and before that, Russia, Spain, and France. You have shares in Argeneau Enterprises, but also own V.A. Inc., which has fingers in several pies. One of those pies is your own production company, which presently isn’t producing anything because a series of events you think are sabotage has forced you to shut down any and all productions.”

  Jackie fell silent and took great satisfaction in the expression on Vincent Argeneau’s face. He looked staggered. It served him right. She was only here as a favor to Bastien. She had other cases she’d rather be working, but did this guy consider that? No, he slams the door in her face, then has the nerve to protest to Bastien about her being mortal and a girl. Jackie was used to people judging her on her sex and size. It annoyed her sometimes, but she could deal with it. However, she’d be damned if she was going to put up with prejudice against her species. She was human and proud of it. Some of these night feeders were too darned smug in her opinion. They slept all day, drank bagged blood at night, then acted all superior because they couldn’t catch the common cold and had perfect health.

  That thought reminded Jackie of a point she’d left out.

  “You inherited your father’s genetic disposition, which won’t allow you to feed off bagged blood like the rest of your kind. On a strict diet of bagged blood, you’d starve to death. You’re forced to hunt your meals and feed off living donors.” She arched her eyebrows and added, “Tiny and I aren’t on the menu. If you bite either of us, we’re on the next plane back to New York. Understood?”

  Jackie didn’t wait for a response. Deciding she’d spent long enough on the doorstep, she moved past him into the house, aware that Tiny stayed directly on her heels.

  “Your security here is nonexistent,” Jackie announced, glancing into each room she passed on her way up the hall. “Your front gate was wide open. We drove straight in. Anyone can.”

  “My home security isn’t in question.” Vincent Argeneau sounded irritated, she noted, but otherwise, appeared recovered from his shock at her bulletlike recitation of his life to date.

  “It should be,” Jackie informed him, then pointed out, “Now that you’ve closed down your productions, your saboteur has lost his original target. He’ll be looking for another, and your home is the first place that comes to my mind.”

  Jackie glanced back as she reached the end of the hall and wasn’t terribly surprised to see him peering worriedly toward the front door. She hadn’t heard the lock click into place when he’d closed it a moment ago. He moved back to lock it now and she smiled to herself as she pushed through the door into the kitchen.

  Tiny waited just inside the roo
m as Jackie walked around, opening and closing cupboards while she waited for Vincent to catch up. She was peering into his empty refrigerator when he hurried into the room.

  “You have a lot of glass in this house,” she commented. “French doors, sliding glass doors and windows deluxe. Do you, at least, have a functioning security system on those?”

  His hesitation was answer enough.

  “What are you looking for?” Vincent asked instead of admitting he didn’t have an alarm system.

  Jackie shrugged. “If Tiny and I are going to be staying here, I need to know what we need. As expected, you have nothing in the way of food in this house, not to mention dishes, silverware, or appliances,” she added dryly.

  Closing the refrigerator door, she glanced at her assistant. “You’d better start making a list, Tiny. Just write everything on it.”

  “You’re staying here?” Vincent asked with horror.

  “If you hadn’t closed down your productions, we would be renting somewhere and taking on positions on one of your plays as our cover while we nosed around. Since you have shut down all your plays and made yourself and your home the only available targets, we’ll have to stay here and choose a different cover.” She turned to peer at him. “I understand you don’t have a personal assistant?”

  “No,” Vincent answered reluctantly.

  “You do now,” Jackie informed him. She gestured to Tiny as she added, “You also have a cook/housekeeper.”

  Vincent stared at her and then glanced to Tiny, who nodded solemnly.

  Leaving him to absorb the changes that were about to overtake his life, Jackie headed for the kitchen door. “I’m going to make a few calls. I presume I can use the phone in your office?”

  “Yes, of course.” The words sounded almost automatic, he was looking bemused by all that was taking place.