Free Undead and Unreturnable by MaryJanice Davidson Page A

away. "Because that is the oldest vampire you're likely to ever meet."
     
    "She's an asshole."
     
    He shrugged. "She's old. It's… difficult to surprise her. You did, though." He smiled, and it was like the sun coming up on the last day of winter. "You did very well."
     
    "It's hard to hate anyone who has such good taste in movies. Though if she'd put another hand on Marc, I would've had to bring down the spank."
     
    He got this weird look on his face, like he was horrified but wanted to laugh, too. "You—you must not. Or, if you decide, you must discuss it with me first. Never touch her alone. Never, understand?"
     
    "Okay, Sinclair. Because that's sooooo me. Maybe we can form a committee and vote on every single thing."
     
    His eyes went narrow but he hung onto the smile. "Listen, please. She is old, as I have said, and she has many friends. Friends she made herself, if you understand my meaning. She is… I guess you would say she is set in her ways. The old ways."
     
    "Yeah, I get it. She's old; she's a stubborn jerk; she thinks humans are moronic lunch boxes; she's got a million friends; and if she doesn't like me, she could cause a lot of trouble for me."
     
    "Us," he corrected. "It's important to keep Marjorie and those like her on our side. When I went to
Europe last fall…"
     
    He'd never talked about the trip much. Brought me back a nice present and mentioned he'd met up with friends, and that was that. "Yeah?"
     
    "Let's just say I was dismayed by how many vampires were
not
on our side."
     
    "Yeah, but you fixed it, right? You always fix everything. Like tonight. And ow , by the way." I flexed my hand, which, if I'd still been alive, would have been throbbing painfully. "Next time just wave a hand puppet at me, willya ? I
need
this hand."
     
    "To write your 'Dear Betsy' column."
     
    "Was that an eye roll?" I demanded. "Are you rolling your eyes at me, Eric Sinclair?"
     
    "Oh, no, beloved. I would never so disrespect my queen."
     
    I laughed. "You're so full of shit your eyes are brown."
     
    "They
are
brown," he admitted, taking me in his arms. He kissed me for such a lovely long time, I forgot about Margaret. Marjie . Whoever.
     
    "This really isn't the time or place," I muttered into his mouth as he lowered me to one of the phenomenally uncomfortable couches in the parlor.
     
    "I'll have ample notice if someone is coming," he said, pulling open my blouse and yanking my pants down to my knees.
     
    "What if I'm the one coming?" I teased, caressing the bulge in his trousers.
     
    He groaned. "Don't do that unless you want to be finished before we start."
     
    "Eric, you're talking like a man who's being neglected."
     
    He braced himself over the couch, unzipped his fly, pulled my panties aside, and slid into me, neat as a magic trick. "I am neglected," he murmured in my ear. "Whenever I'm not inside you, I'm neglected."
     
    "That's really lame," I whispered back. I braced a heel on the couch arm and met his thrusts. "And we're gonna break this couch."
     
    Fuck the couch.
     
    That thought—cool and uncaring, but hot at the same time—pretty much did me in; I heard something crack in the couch and then I was coming, clutching at Eric while his voice ran through my head, a vivid whisper of longing.
     
    O my own my
Elizabeth my Queen 1 love love love love …
     
    I hope he "loved" fixing couches, because that was probably next on our agenda.
     
    He groaned and collapsed over me, which elicited a groan of my own. "Kill me," he mumbled. "I'm an old man, and you're trying to kill me."
     
    "Hey, this wasn't
my
idea, pal. And you're still in your prime. Your immortal dead guy prime." I giggled.
     
    "Are you laughing at me, darling?"
     
    "No, Eric," I said gravely, biting my lower lip so I wouldn't do it again.
     
    "It would crush my tender emotions to know you were laughing at me during this vulnerable time."
     
    "I'd never do that, Eric. So what was it like, inventing the