Chapter Seven

We begin with a time-honored cliche.

“Oh my god,” I moaned. “So good.”

“You like that?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“It’s all warm and moist, isn’t it?”

I looked up at him. “I gotta have more.”

Ira laughed. “Good lord, Regan, you’ve already had three pieces.”

True to Ira’s word, his mother’s pies were the most awesome thing I’d ever had in my mouth. They were even better than Abby Parker’s steaks.

Indignantly, I replied, “I’ve only had cherry, pecan, and pumpkin. I spy a lemon and an apple over there I didn’t even see before.” I gestured to the glass counter with the pies in it.

“Sometimes she makes a key lime cream,” Ira sighed. “It’s better than sex.”

“Five minutes ago I wouldn’t have believed you.” I glanced down at my plate. “But now I’m contemplating licking up the crumbs, and whether or not my dignity could stand it.”

Shaking his head, Ira couldn’t quite hide his smile.

Groaning I sank back against my chair. “But seriously, I am at least taking those last two to go.”

He grinned. “I’m sure my mom could arrange that.”

A silence grew after that, but it wasn’t awkward. He was still amused at my antics, and I was still digesting. So, of course, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“Not to ruin the mood or anything,” I said, “but where’s the pop in the mom-and equation?”

Ira shrugged. “My parents split up when I was younger.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, genuinely. “Mine too.”

“Then you know there’s nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “Shit happens.”

“That’s for sure,” I said quietly. “Still, it messes you up when you’re little.”

“Sure, but it was a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I don’t mean to pry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’m over it now.”

There was nothing to say to that. I wondered what was wrong with us that we were having this kind of conversation on the first date.

“So,” he said, a small smile tugging up his mouth. “Not to ruin the mood, but what parent did you end up with?”

“Father,” I said instantly.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yep.”

“That’s kind of unusual,” he said.

I nodded. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way than the way I have it.”

“Me either.” Ira looked over toward the counter with soft eyes.

Seeing that expression on his face, I felt my own softening. He turned back to me and we spent a moment just looking at each other.

“I realize it’s not much as far as dates go,” Ira said, “but I hope you enjoyed yourself. Homicidal ex-girlfriends aside.”

“Homicidal ex-girlfriends aside,” I drawled, “I did. Although, there’s one thing I should probably tell you that I haven’t.”

Ira’s brows rose. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” I leaned in close to him. “I totally put out on a first date.”

His dark eyes glittered. “Then what are we still doing in here?”

Ira told me to go to his car around back while he had his mom pack up the last few slices of pie. His car turned out to be one of those oldies with a wide frame and large back seat. I grinned, Perfect.

Casually, I leaned up against the back door as I waited for Ira. I’d met him only yesterday and already someone had tried to kill me. Maybe I was just paranoid, but it seemed like more than jealous ex-girlfriend. Ira himself had admitted it was a pretty common theme with her. It had been my experience that people jilted after a break-up get the rage out of their system fairly early. I was betting there was more to her motives than spite for her former lover’s trysts.

I mulled that over and realized I had a few options. I could call up central and see what I could find out about her, or I could just wait it out. Even as I thought that I realized something else. I was already planning to see Ira again after today. But why not? I thought. He was a laid back guy, and didn’t seem to be interested in much more than I was interested in. Besides that, I’d been straight up about how long I would be in town. If he made more out of it than it was it wouldn’t be my problem.

That decided, I took out my cell phone and dialed the number.

“Mrs. Doubt’s Arts and Crafts,” a cheery voice chirped.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I was looking for Tommy’s Floral, must be the wrong number.”

With that, I hung up and waited. It was only a few seconds before my phone chirped.

“This line secure?” The same voice was much less cheery.

“Why, yes, Espy, I’m just fine. Thank you for asking.”

“Regan—”

“Oh, chill,” I said. “It’s the phone you gave me, so it had better be secure.”

I heard Esperanza’s unmistakable sigh. “What do you want?”

“I need some info on a chick named Zo Williams,” I replied. “I’m not sure how it’s spelled, but she’ll be a few years older than me and going to college here.”

“I thought you were going to that Podunk town for a school thing?” she said, but I could hear her fingers clattering over keys in the background.

She couldn’t see it, but I shrugged anyway. “Yeah, but humor me. Can’t ever be too safe, right?”

“I’ll email you later with whatever I find,” Espy said. “Anything else I should know?”

I hesitated. “No,” I said slowly. “It’s just a hunch I have.”

“Okay,” she said guardedly, like she wasn’t sure she believed me. “Check your email in a few.”

“Will do,” I said. “Thanks, Espy.”

“Yup,” she grunted, and the line went dead.

Flipping the phone closed, I tapped it against my chin as I thought. I knew vampires were group-forming creatures. That Zo was one seemed pretty obvious. I was even betting she was one of the vain ones that wore contacts to hide the aniridia, but I hadn’t gotten enough of a look at her face to know that for sure. She just seemed the type. Body glitter. Honestly.

I thought my father had been so adamant in me coming here because of all that school crap, but what if it was more? On the other hand, I couldn’t see him sending me into the territory of a vampire house without more information and resources.

Ira rounded the corner of the building, and I pushed those thoughts away. He was carrying a plastic sack in one hand that I could tell had two pie boxes in it.

Casting him a grin, I said, “‘Bout time.”

He shook his head. “My mom, just offering some friendly advice.”

“Such as?”

He handed me the sack and went around to unlock his car. “She thinks you’re a heartbreaker.”

I placed a hand on my chest, my eyes wide and innocent. “Who, me?”

Ira shook his head. “You do that way too well.”

“I’m an only child,” I said, “I have to really sell it. There’s no one else to blame for shit.”

He smiled at that, and I couldn’t help smiling back as I leaned over and placed the pie on the front seat.

Looking up at me, Ira said, “You getting in?”

In reply, I flashed him my trademark shit-eating grin. “Meet me in the back seat.”