Before I could drive myself through a plate glass window, my cell phone rang. Jessica? I clawed it out of my purse. “Hello? Jess? Hello?”

“Hi, Betsy. It’s me, Nick. Berry,” he added, like I could forget. Nick was a Minneapolis cop.

“Oh, hey.” I was disappointed but worked on not showing it. “Who’s dead now?” I joked.

“Several people, but that’s not why I’m calling. Listen, I haven’t seen your new digs, and I just got off. I thought I’d come over and say hi.”

“Oh. Look, I’m glad to have you over, Nick, but why now?”

“Well…” I heard an odd sound in the background and realized he was chewing on a Milky Way. Nick abhorred donuts. “This is going to sound a little out there, but I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind lately. I mean, you gotta admit, that whole thing last spring where you almost died and they had a fake funeral and all—”

“Yeah, last spring was a real laugh riot.”

“And then this summer with all the dead bodies—I guess the killer moved on, because there hasn’t been one like it in about three months—but you were sort of in the middle of that, too—and…I don’t know. I just thought it’d be fun to stop by, catch up.”

“Well, sure.” Come on into my parlor, big boy. Actually, the last thing I wanted was the cop who had known me in life nosing around in Vampire Central after my death, but I couldn’t think of a way to say no without arousing his suspicions. “I’m on my way there now. I’m guessing there’s no need to give you the address, seeing as how you’re the man and all.”

“See you in twenty,” he confirmed.

I hurried into the mansion to straighten up but realized Jessica’s corps of home helpers (the cook, the gardener, the garage guy, the downstairs guy, the upstairs lady, the plant lady) was way ahead of me. The place was immaculate and freshly vacuumed. Marc’s car was gone, but Jessica’s was in the garage, so I darted up the stairs and knocked on her door.

“Jess? Detective Nick is coming over to play Welcome Wagon, which isn’t much good in the way of timing, but seriously, when is the best time for a cop to come over? When you’re not a vampire,” I answered myself. “Anyway, if you want to come down, we’ll be in”—Where? Where was a vampire-free zone?—“one of the parlors. I think.”

I went to the basement and found Tina sitting a prudent distance away from George, scribbling notes, while he crocheted an endless chain in sunshine yellow. He’d churned out about thirty feet so far and didn’t look up when I shrieked.

“You gave him a hook?” I could hear a car pulling in and didn’t wait around for Tina’s answer. At least George was occupied.

Nick was waiting at the door, and I played ditz and “forgot” to give him a tour. We ended up shooting the breeze in the small sitting room just off the front hall.

“This place is amazing,” he said, staring. As always, he was easy on the eyes. My height, blond, broad-shouldered, tan. Ooooh, a tan! It was really great to see someone with real color in their cheeks. “You and Jessica are really moving up in the world.”

“Ha!” I replied. “Jess pays for the whole thing.”

“Well, yeah.” He grinned boyishly. “I figured. Have you found a job yet? Not that you need one, I guess…” He gestured to the room.

I didn’t need one since I had the whole queen thing going, but I wasn’t telling him that. Likewise, I didn’t dare tell him about Scratch. I couldn’t prove to a live person that I legally owned it. I sure didn’t need a cop snooping into it.

Nick wasn’t just any cop. He’d known me in life but, worse, had fallen under my vampiric spell after I died. Sinclair had ended up making Nick forget quite a bit from last spring. But it was a worrisome thing sometimes; we honestly didn’t know what he remembered or if Sinclair’s mojo would wear off.

“You look great,” I said, changing the subject. “You’re so tan! Where’d you go?”

“I just got back from Grand Cayman. Me and a bunch of the other guys saved up for about a year and a half. It’s really not that expensive if you go in a group. Actually, that’s sort of why I’m here.”

“I can’t go to Grand Cayman with you,” I joked. I wasn’t up to pushing the new sunshine allowances.

“No, no.” Of course not. Why would a healthy red-blooded male want to date a corpse with badly polished toes? “One of the guys was looking for a new place to go to an AA meeting, and I knew from my brother that they had a good group at the Thunderbird—on 494? Anyway—”

“You were there the night I went,” I said with a sinking feeling. It was definitely weird the way Nick kept stumbling back into my life. What were the chances?

“Well…yeah. And it’s none of my business at all…”

“One of the As stands for Anonymous,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, I know. My brother did the twelve steps a couple years ago. I just—I guess I was surprised to see you there,” he finished lamely.

He was surprised! Was my luck ever going to take a turn for the better? “Well, it’s nothing I like to talk about,” I said, sort of telling the truth.

“Sure, sure, sure,” he said quickly. “I understand. I just wanted you to know…well, sometimes it’s a hard thing to talk about. It’s like nobody else can possibly get it, right?”

“Right,” I said, on surer ground.

“So I just wanted you to know that if you ever wanted to, you know, just talk…” He trailed off and smiled at me, which made the cute laugh lines in the corner of his eyes crinkle in a friendly way.

I nearly wept; it was beyond wonderful to have someone be nice to me, to be concerned with my problems. Well, that wasn’t fair; Laura was nice, and Jessica had been concerned until I’d hurt her. It wasn’t Laura’s fault Sinclair was taken with her. What guy wouldn’t be? And it wasn’t Sinclair’s fault he’d decided I’d given off negative vibes one too many times.

Poor Nick didn’t have a clue, but he cared. That counted for a lot.

“That’s so sweet of you. I really appreciate it.” We’d been sitting next to each other on the little peach-colored love seat, and he was inching closer to me. Maybe he had an itch. “And I promise I’ll keep it in mind. But I really don’t want to talk about my dumb problems right now.” My incredibly lame, stupid, dumb problems.

“I just—wanted you to know,” he breathed, and then he kissed me.

Oh, yay! No, boo. No, yay! I let him go for a few seconds, quite enjoying the feeling of a warm mouth on my cool one. I could hear his pulse thundering in my ears. He smelled like chocolate and cotton.

It was actually kind of nice. He liked me. He’d always liked me. Of course, since I’d died he’d found me way more attractive, but I tried not to take advantage of it. Except for that one time. Which Nick didn’t remember. I was pretty sure. But anyway…not taking advantage of innocent policeman.

Although without much difficulty I could. He was so nice, so great-looking, so earnest—and as a cop, he’d come in real handy. I could—I could—

Take him.

I could get rid of this annoying thirst for the moment, that’s what I could do. I could—

What are you waiting for?

—get a little warmth, a little happiness, be needed, be touched, be wanted.

It would be so easy.

I jerked away, actually throwing Nick to the floor. It would be easy. Real damn easy. Which is why I couldn’t do it.

Is that why I read the Book…to learn how to be an asshole vampire? Is that what I learned from hurting Jessica—take what I wanted when I could get it? Is that how my mom raised me? Is that the kind of queen of the dead I wanted to be?

“Jeez, I’m so sorry,” Nick said from the floor, apparently overlooking the fact that I’d thrown him on his ass. His face was red with blushes. “I’m really sorry, Betsy.”

“No, no, it’s my fault!” I was shouting to hear myself over his pulse, which alarmed him. I lowered my voice. “Sorry. It’s my fault.” It really was. Nick had no idea why he found me so appealing. God knew it was a mystery to me most times, too. “Sorry again. You’d better go.” I hauled him to his feet and showed him the door, over his protests and apologies. “Thanks for stopping by. Great to catch up! ’Bye.”

I shut the door and leaned against it with my eyes closed. I could still hear his pulse, though that was probably my imagination.

It had been a near thing.

“Is your date over already?”

My eyes popped open. Sinclair was standing on the left side of the entryway; he’d obviously come through the back.

“That was—”

“I know.”

“He thinks—”

“I know.”

“But he’s going now, I—”

“Yes, I imagine you took care of it. Good work,” he added distantly.

“It wasn’t—”

“I understand. The last thing you—we—need is a police officer nosing about. And the quickest way to get rid of him—” Sinclair shrugged. “Well, you did what you had to do.”

“Eric—”

“I’ll leave you to retire. Oh, and Laura and I are having coffee tomorrow evening. You need not join us.”

He turned. And walked away.