Wait Till Your Vampire Gets Home (Broken Heart #4) - Page 17/28

I yelped, and Ralph fell off me, his hand pressing against his right pectoral. Above my right breast, it felt as though a poker had been jabbed into my skin. It was so hot and painful that it brought tears to my eyes.

The fire itself didn't harm us. The bed covers and furniture weren't so lucky. Holy shit! I sat up and patted the covers, which only made it worse. My dragonfire kept adding fuel to the flames. Ralph leapt from the bed and ran out of the bedroom, only to return with a fire extinguisher. He aimed and white foam exploded.

"Goddamn it!" I shouted. "I'm so sick of this stuff."

"Sorry, honey," said Ralph. He put down the extinguisher. He was trying really hard not to laugh.

"It's not funny." I wiped off my chest. I blinked down at the spot above my right breast. "What's that?"

"I have one, too."

On both of our chests was the same mark: A circle about the size of a quarter with two slanted black lines through its middle.

Ralph looked at me. "What just happened?"

"I . . . I don't know." I looked at my mark, then at his. I was flabbergasted. "Is it a vampire thing?"

"No. When we claim others, we leave our marks on them, but they can only be seen by other vampires. This is like a tattoo."

"Do you think it's dragon-related?"

"Probably," he said. "I wonder what it means."

"I don't want to know."

Ralph walked to the bed and sat down, right in the white fluff. I loved him for that. He wound his fingers through mine. "Hey, now. Don't look like that. We'll figure it all out."

"Really?"

"Of course." He sat up and drew me with him. "Let's get cleaned up."

We took a shower together. Ralph washed my hair, and I washed his. Then we kissed a lot and, after a while, the water turned cold. But steam still rose from our dragon-heated bodies.

"Damn. No towels," said Ralph. "I'll go get a couple from the dryer."

"What about clothes?" I asked. "I think mine went up in the bed fire."

"I'll rustle you up something."

He turned around and opened the door. His ass looked so cute, I reached out and pinched one taut cheek. He laughed as he stepped into the hallway. I was behind him, my hands reaching toward his buttocks for one more squeeze.

He stopped suddenly and I rammed into him.

"Hey!" I wrapped my arms around his waist and let my hands wander south.

"Libby," he said. There was warning in his tone, but I didn't understand why.

"My God, Randolph, who is this person?"

The cultured voice was female, her tone designed to freeze the unworthy. I let go of Ralph and backed away. Oh, my God! Who was that?

"If you don't mind, Maura, I'd like to get dressed."

"We'll meet you in the living room," she said stiffly.

Ralph turned around. "I'll bring you something to wear."

"Okay." I looked at his closed expression. "Who was that?"

"My mother-in-law."

Ralph's mother-in-law sat on the couch, waiting for us like a principal getting ready to dress down the naughty students.

Dressed in a pair of Ralph's sweats and an old T-shirt, I settled into a recliner near the TV. Ralph chose to stand, arms crossed, his gaze narrowed.

The woman's silver hair was coiffed in an updo, her brown eyes as hard and flat as pebbles. She was dressed in a Donna Karan pantsuit and she practically dripped with diamonds. Her mink coat was folded on the arm of the couch.

"This is Maura Brighton," said Ralph. "Therese's mother. Where's Harold? Where are the boys? Are they okay?"

"Everyone's perfectly fine."

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you, Randolph. What are you doing here?"

"I've only been back a day," Ralph lied smoothly. "And it was unexpected. I planned to call you tomorrow."

"Is she your housekeeper?" the woman asked, her gaze bouncing around the room, as if to say, She doesn't do a good job, does she, darling? Yeah, right. She knew I wasn't a housekeeper, especially since I was just naked in the bathroom with him. If she meant to insult me, she didn't come close. I'd been called a lot worse names by a lot better people. After all, I was the daughter of the nation's best-known kooks.

"Her name is Libby Monroe. She's very special to me."

Maura's china-doll features mottled. "You're dating ? My daughter is barely in the grave, and you're already trying to replace her?"

"Therese died two years ago," said Ralph patiently. I'd bet everything in my bank account Ralph hadn't dated, much less been in a serious relationship, since his wife passed. She sniffed as her gaze once again found her surroundings lacking. She looked at me and smiled coldly.

"You're not nearly as pretty as she was."

"Probably not," I said easily. "I bet she was beautiful. And I think she was very special."

Maura looked thunderstruck. It was obvious that relations between Ralph and his in-laws were strained enough without adding me into the mix. I'm sure she didn't expect kindness from someone she viewed as her daughter's replacement.

"You didn't answer my question about the boys," said Ralph. "Where are they?"

Maura's expression soured. "They're in the car with Harold."

Ralph left the room. When he returned, two blond-haired tykes were squealing in his buff arms. Ralph the Daddy was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.

He kissed them, tickled them, and hugged them. I'd never seen a man more happy. Ralph needed to be with his sons. They were a family. I couldn't deny I yearned to be part of it. Another man entered the living room, looking as dour as Maura. He joined his wife on the couch. He was dressed in Armani, folding his coat into a square on his lap. His eyes were also brown, and less warm than his wife's.

"Teddy missed you guys," said Ralph. "You wanna go say hi?"

"Teddy!" shouted the munchkins.

Ralph made airplane noises and tucked one boy under each arm. He flew them into their room. I studied the carpet while Ralph got his sons settled. I bet he wasn't going to let them go. Not ever again. Minutes later, Ralph returned, and he looked really pissed. I didn't blame him.

"You showed up in the middle of the night and snuck into my home. Why?"

"We were hardly sneaking. We have a key. Honestly, Randolph. Why didn't you tell us you'd returned from Saudi Arabia?" accused Maura, who apparently was the mouthpiece for her and her husband. Her frosty gaze slid over me. Whatever, lady.

Ralph's eyes went red; he stared at Maura and Harold. In his come-hither voice, he said, "Why did you come here?"

"To pack the boys' things," said Maura woodenly.

"And to find evidence of your bad parenting," added Harold, his eyes as dazed as his wife's. I got a perverse satisfaction out of seeing Ralph go vampire on them.

"Why?" asked Ralph.

Maura tilted her head, her empty gaze swinging to Ralph. "We're challenging you for custody of the twins."

Ralph stilled; a muscle in his jaw worked. I felt outraged on his behalf. I had no doubts that Ralph was a good father. He'd put his sons first, even if it meant sending them away.

"Your in-laws are horrid," I whispered.

"As miserable as they are, they're still my sons' grandparents. But yeah, I'm tempted to throw a fireball at them right now."

"Just one?" Yeah, yeah, bad karma. Well, I'd done plenty tonight to earn my bad karma. What was one thing more?

Amusement glimmered in his eyes. "I like your style, Libby."

He focused on them both and said, "You will both get into your car and return to your hotel in Tulsa. You'll sleep restfully, and when you awake you will only remember you took the boys home. You were happy to see them reunited with their father. Do you understand?"

"Yes," they both answered.

They stood and put on their coats. Then they walked robotlike to the front door and let themselves out. We followed them to the porch and watched. Fat snowflakes were drifting from the night sky. The ground was already blanketed in white.

We heard a car start and a sleek red Jaguar slid past the house. Good. The in-laws were leaving and I was glad to see them go.

"If Broken Heart is so protected," I asked, "how did they get in here?"

"I claimed my sons, so their marks get them a free pass. But the guardians know them, too." He turned away, and I didn't need a compass to know the direction of our relationship. I could feel the distance growing between us. I followed Ralph into the hallway. We could hear the boys in their room playing with their toys.

"Michael and Stephen being here changes everything, doesn't it?" I asked.

"Of course it does. They already have to deal with an undead father, and now I'm a dragon, too? It's all too much."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with regret. Oh, I got it. Throwing a possible dragon girlfriend at them was the "too much" part. "They come first."

"They should," I said softly. I stopped short of saying I understood his decision. I wanted him to say that I was worthwhile, too. Why couldn't he be a father and be my lover? Well, I wasn't Therese. I could never take her place . . . not for those little boys, and not for Ralph. But I didn't want to be a replacement, anyway.

He rubbed a hand through his hair. "It's getting close to dawn. I need to see if their nanny is available. It'll take a while to get them on a night schedule again. But Mera usually hangs during the day in case they wake up."

"I can watch them," I said. The words just popped out of my mouth. We both looked startled. "Well, I have to stay here, don't I? What were the plans for keeping me here while you zonked out?"

"We have guardians outside the house, remember?" He sighed, his gaze sliding away from mine. "I appreciate the offer, Libby, but I better call Mera. The boys know her."

"So I'm good enough to sleep with but not good enough to babysit your sons?" It was a low blow and I knew it, but it was also how I felt. I wanted him to trust me, and it hurt that he didn't.

"That's not fair, Libby. You know damned well we have something amazing together."

"Only I can't compartmentalize. I can't separate you from the other parts of my life. I'm all in, Ralph. Everything, and everyone, that comes with you."

"Are you, Libby?" He shook his head. "If you could leave Broken Heart right now, you would. You're only here because you don't have a choice."

"You're right. I'm only in Broken Heart because I don't have a choice," I said. I would not cry, damn it.

"I'm standing here, with you, because I want to. That's a choice."

He opened his mouth to respond, but I held up my hand. I'd had enough drama. Everything was mixed-up and crazy. I'd come to Broken Heart to investigate reports of paranormal activity. Instead, I'd become a dragon and fallen in love with a vampire.

"Just call the nanny," I said wearily. "Do you want the couch?"

"No. I have to sleep in the bedroom. It's been sun-proofed. I have a sleeping bag that will do until I can get the bed replaced."

"Okay. Do you have extra pillows and blankets?"

"Yeah."

"Daddy! Daddy!" Michael and Stephen ran into the hallway. Ralph had already tucked them into footie pajamas with the familiar theme of trains.

Ralph bent down and scooped up his boys. "Michael. Stephen. Say hello to Libby."

"Ibby!" shouted Michael, clapping his hands. "Ibby! Ibby! Ibby!"

Stephen considered me thoughtfully, his bow-shaped lips pursed. Then he waved at me with one tiny hand. They were so cute.

"Hi," I said. "What kind of monkeys are you?" Then I tickled their ribs. They giggled and writhed.

"Whoa," said Ralph, trying to juggle them both. He gave each boy a sloppy kiss.

"Story!" yelled Michael. "Read story!"

As a child, my favorite nightly tale had been Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown. Surprisingly, my parents had chosen traditional bedtime stories. It was the bed that was untraditional . . . usually the pull-out in an RV or a cot in a hotel.

"Goodnight room, goodnight moon, goodnight cow jumping over the moon," I quoted.

"Goodnight wight," said Stephen in a serious little voice. "And red bawoon."

"That's right," said Ralph. He looked both surprised and pleased. "You know Goodnight Moon ?"

"I was a kid once," I said. "And yeah, that was my favorite book."

"Theirs, too." He seemed to realize he'd been gazing tenderly at me. He cleared his throat and looked away. "C'mon, kiddos. Time to brush your teeth, and then we'll read a story."

"No brush teeth," said Michael, pouting. His brother mirrored the expression, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

"Here we go," said Ralph, chuckling. He glanced at me. "This might take a while."

I took the hint. Ralph wanted to spend time with his sons, and I wasn't part of that routine. I probably never would be. I wanted the whole package, and if Ralph wasn't part of the deal, then I didn't want to stay in Broken Heart any longer than I had to. Yeah, okay. Now that I was paranormal, too, it was probably smarter to stay here than to live in the human world as a half dragon, half dork. I went into the living room and looked at the clock. After Ralph went to bed, I'd sneak a phone call. I needed to talk to Mom and call off the rescue mission.

I was glad she and Dad were okay, but I no longer wanted PRIS anywhere near Broken Heart. These people had enough problems without alerting humans to their presence. I couldn't bear the thought of Ralph and his boys facing that kind of scrutiny.

I looked through the books on the shelf in the living room, which was a mixture of children's books, legal thrillers, horror novels, and medical texts. I chose Graverobbers Wanted (No Experience Necessary) by Jeff Strand, then got cozy on the couch and started to read. The book wasn't one that made you drowsy. In fact, every mundane noise took on an ominous tone. I draped myself in the throw that lay over the back of the couch. It was silly to seek protection from a mere blanket, but being covered up made me feel better.

Ack. It was so cold in the house! I looked around until I found the thermostat. It was set at sixty-eight degrees. No wonder I was freezing. I changed the gauge to seventy-two degrees. The heat kicked on. I adjusted my position, settling deeper into the cushions.

The television blared to life.

"Aaaaaaahhhhh!" The book went flying as I leapt to my feet, my heart thundering. CNN rotated through the usual worldly horrors while I tried to figure out how the TV had turned on by itself.

"Melvin?" I asked cautiously. "Are you there?"