She studied the figurine, then dumped it into the trashcan. “It’s definitely time to let go of that one. What if it’s this?” Nina snatched up a tattered copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. “Wouldn’t that be hilarious?”
I stood up and took the paperback from Nina, returning it to its spot on the shelf. “No.” I glanced at everything on the bookshelf, my hands on my hips. “I can’t imagine it’s anything here. And most of this stuff I’ve had forever or picked up randomly along the way. I would think that the Vessel of Souls would have come into my possession in a more regal way—not from an old boyfriend or from the used bookstore.”
“So IKEA is out then?”
“Wow,” Alex said from the hallway as he gingerly stepped over our crumbled front door. “Did I forget to tell you that you put the key in and then turn the knob?”
I rolled my eyes. “Ophelia was here.”
“Ophelia?” Alex’s eyes widened and he came inside, setting his slick leather jacket on the table. He crossed the living room in one swoop and rested his hands on my shoulders. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you at all?”
“Did she hurt me at all?” I pointed to my mask of bruises. “I look like a prizefighter. Who lost.” The frozen corn slid from my head and thunked on the floor.
“You dropped your corn,” Alex said, pointing at it. “Really, Lawson, are you going to be okay? Should we take you to the emergency room?”
“No,” I said quietly. “I’m okay.”
Alex pulled me against him and I melted into his warm chest, shivered as I felt his strong arms slide across my back, encircling me, protecting me, melting the bag of frozen peas between us. “I couldn’t stand it if she hurt one hair on your head.”
“Well,” Nina said from over Alex’s left shoulder. “She hurt our vase. Where have you been? We could have been dead! Or, you know, dead ... er. Don’t forget, you brought that psychopath into our lives.”
Alex ignored Nina, and held me at arm’s length, his cobalt eyes intense and locked on mine. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. “I’m okay.” For the first time I noticed that Alex was dressed in dark jeans cinched with an expensive-looking brown leather belt. He was wearing a butter-soft deep green cashmere sweater that V’ed at the neck, a bit of his white T-shirt peeking out from underneath. The thin sweater was formfitting, and hugged the muscles across his chest and broad shoulders in all the right places. His hair—a usual jumble of chocolaty dark curls that spilled this way and that—was brushed back and gelled.
“You gelled?”
A flush of crimson went across Alex’s cheeks as he reached a hand up to pat his hair. “It’s stupid. I—”
“No, it looks nice. You look nice. Why do you look so—?” I slammed my mouth shut, knowing flooding over me.
My date. My big date.
Alex’s smile was polite. “You forgot?”
Nina stepped in between us. “Yes, she forgot. Can you blame her? She’s been tenderized by hurricane Ophelia!”
Alex looked pained and gingerly tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Does it hurt much?”
I rubbed the sore spot on my cheek. “I told you, it’s fine. It looks worse than it is. I’m pale; I bruise easily.”
“I would feel better if you were protected.”
“Like with a bodyguard?” I nodded toward Nina. “I’ve already got a vampire.”
Nina put her hands on her hips. “So that’s why you keep me around?”
“Geez! And you say my friends are messy!” We all swung to look as Vlad stood in the doorway, his calf-length velvet coat swirling in a nonexistent breeze, his jacquard ascot puffed against his silk vest.
“Sophie got attacked,” Nina filled him in.
Vlad frowned. “Wow! You look terrible.”
“Yeah, but you should see what the other guy looks like,” I joked.
Nina’s eyes were wide. “Yeah, she’s really pretty. I love her hair.”
I tried to glare, but my face was sore. “Geez, sorry,” Nina said, threading her arm through Vlad’s. “Come on.” She dragged Vlad toward her room. “You’re helping me organize.”
Alex leaned in toward me. “Do you still have the gun I got you?”
In Alex and my previous relationship incarnation, I found myself the victim of things going bump in the night. Alex’s gift of a lethal weapon wasn’t just romantic, it was practical.
Still, I would have preferred chocolates.
“Yeah, I still have it.”
“Somewhere close by?”
I went to the kitchen and retrieved the gun from its special hiding place in the junk drawer. The slick, black .357 Magnum kept my packets of takeout soy sauce, bubble gum, and twist ties safe.
Alex took the gun and released the magazine. “It’s not loaded. Do you still have any bullets?”