Falling for Fangs

Chloe’s prediction turned out to be absolutely true: she did not, as Jesse had suggested, get some sleep. First, she tried fluffy bed socks and a dab of lavender on her pillow. Then a small glass of wine. Followed by a considerably larger glass of wine.

But none of it seemed to help. Chloe tossed and turned, thinking about what horrible things the curse might do to her. Would she turn into some kind of creature with scales and claws? Would all of her hair fall out? Would she lose her voice forever? That would be even worse than scales and claws when it came to her career.

And why did Maxwell not seem all that surprised that they had been cursed? Chloe was sure he knew more than he was letting on, for all that he had said that he had simply seen a lot in his time. Chloe was certain he was a lot older than he looked, but from everything she knew about the paranormal underworld, curses weren’t exactly a regular occurrence.

Chloe had wanted to question him, to ask him what the hell he wasn’t telling her, but she couldn’t do that while he was still technically a client. But once his signature was on the paperwork, well…

When Chloe finally fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams were unsettling. Not unpleasant, but definitely unsettling. She would have expected nightmares; she had just been cursed. But these weren’t nightmares.

Chloe was sitting cross-legged in the enormous bathtub of the gold and cream mansion that Maxwell had declared tacky. And she wasn’t alone. Apparently, the bathtub was big enough to house one real estate agent and one tall and broad-shouldered vampire.

“I’m sorry I did this to you,” Maxwell said, turning on the faucet. Chloe expected to feel cold water, but instead, thick, dark honey – just like the kind she bought at the market – began to fill the tub.

“It’s not your fault,” Chloe said, watching the honey cover her feet and legs. Strangely, she didn’t feel worried.

“I should have told you,” Maxwell said, the honey reaching up to his chest. “I should have told you why.” And wow, when did Maxwell’s shirt disappear? It was hard to be concerned about the honey when she was admiring pale skin over taut muscles.

“What should you have told me?” Chloe asked, trying to stand up, but the honey was too thick. “What is it?”

But Maxwell just looked at her, up to his neck in honey, with that charming smile on his face. “I want you to like me.”

“Tell me!” Chloe demanded. The honey was rising too fast. She was being swallowed up in sweetness. Was it possible to drown in honey? She was pretty sure she was about to find out.

When Chloe woke with a start to her insistent alarm, she discovered the comforter had covered her face. Well, that explained the suffocating feeling. However, it did not explain why Maxwell had appeared shirtless in her dream. Chloe just had her own decidedly devious subconscious to thank for that.

“He’s a client, and I have a curse to break,” Chloe said aloud, struggling to sit up. “I’ll get him to sign the contract and tell me what he knows. Not lust after him. No lusting!” But a guilty twist in her stomach told her that she might not be able to keep that promise. Who knew that dreams about drowning in honey could be so strangely erotic? She really hoped she wasn’t about to develop an unusual and unhygienic fetish.

Chloe shook her head, rubbed her face with both hands, and reached for her phone. She’d put Maxwell out of her mind for now, she decided. She swiped her finger across the screen, calling her brother.

“Have you spoken to Tilly yet?”

“Good morning to you too, Chlo,” Jesse said, sounding amused. “I’m good; how are you?”

“Cursed,” Chloe said a little abruptly. “Cursed and waiting for my charming and hilarious brother to tell me he’s arranged a meeting to sort this out.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Jesse said. “I spoke to Tilly first thing, actually bumped into her at Well Bean. Did you know they’re doing a breakfast special now? Double bacon and egg roll, plus a coffee for $11.95. That’s a reasonable price!”

“Jesse,” Chloe’s voice was a warning. “Please.”

“Sorry,” Jesse said. “Look, I’ve hooked it up. Come to the shop just after sunset and tell your fanged friend to meet us there.”

“Sunset?” Chloe was indignant. “Can’t she do anything earlier? I don’t think I should have to remind you, but I’ve been cursed!”

“Well, we can’t do it much earlier,” Jesse said. “Unless you want Mr Undead to burst into flames.”

There was a silence.

“Oh,” Chloe said, feeling embarrassed. “I forgot. Vampire, sunlight. Of course.”

“Yep,” Jesse said. “Personally, I don’t think it’s an issue if you did want to make it earlier. A few third-degree burns might do him some good.”

“You didn’t like him?” Chloe had got that impression, but she didn’t know why.

“Not especially,” Jesse said. “Seemed kind of like he fancied himself. You get that a lot with vampires.”

“He didn’t seem like that with me,” Chloe said. Sure, Maxwell was confident and opinionated when it came to real estate, but he had been nothing but polite and charming. Except, of course, that there was definitely something he wasn’t telling her about the curse.