Love Your Entity (3 page)

Sierra hadn’t looked down there yet.

She pointed to the door behind the stairs. “Where does that go?”

“The basement.”

She headed toward it.

“Whoa.” He put out his hand to stop her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I
know
I’m going to the basement.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” she countered.

“I thought you were going to write out an agreement for me to sign.”

“I am,” she said. “As soon as I see the basement.”

“It’s pretty dark down there. The lights are all out.”

She flipped the switch at the top of the stairs but nothing happened.

“See?” He moved to close the door.

She moved away but only as far as her purse, where she retrieved a slim flashlight.

Shit. This woman was stubborn and persistent, neither of which he found endearing in a human.

He didn’t realize he was blocking her way until she glared at him. “Is there some reason you don’t want me going in the basement?” she said.

“It’s not safe,” he said.

“Because?”

“It’s dark.”

“Which is why I have a high-intensity flashlight.” She turned it on and aimed it right in his face.

Ronan groaned and turned away. While it wasn’t sunlight, the beam of intense light still hurt.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Are your eyes sensitive to light? I have a friend who is like that.”

Ronan doubted she had any friends “like that” or like him. Even the other vampires in Vamptown had no experience with an indentured vampire. He’d seen their looks of pity. They’d let him stay because of his claim to the house …
this
house, his house.

“Before you go down there, I have a question for you. You referred to my girlfriend when you first arrived.”

“Did I?” She fiddled with the flashlight.

“Yes. Why?”

“I just figured I may have interrupted you and some girl. I mean, you
were
naked.”

“I told you, I was changing.” He was changing again, into a sexually aroused vampire. He sensed her pulse quickening. He tried reading her mind again but she was blocking him.

“I’m doing the best I can,” she muttered. To herself? Or to someone else? He looked around but there was no one there.

“What about the stuff in your truck?” He pointed outside. “Don’t you want to unpack?”

Sighing, she returned the flashlight to her purse and reached for her set of keys.

She opened the door to find Damon and another man standing there with her desk. “Where do you want this?” Damon demanded.

“Come in. I, uh, wasn’t expecting—”

Damon interrupted her. “Where do you want this?”

“In my bedroom. Follow me.”

“She likes giving orders,” Ronan told his fellow vampires. The newcomer was Nick St. George, the head of the local business association.

“How did you get into my U-Haul van?” she asked them.

“You left it unlocked,” Damon said.

Ronan stood there and watched as Nick introduced himself to Sierra. It didn’t take them long, even traveling at human rather than vamp superspeed, to unload the pieces of furniture. Bed, bookcases, a dresser.

Ronan took the boxes of books that Nick handed him at the front door. He noticed that one was full of the same book by one person. S. J. Brennan. Suddenly that confusing thing about deadlines, one of the few bits he’d picked up from her thoughts earlier, made sense.

“You must really like this author’s books,” he noted as he set the box in Sierra’s bedroom.

Sierra nodded. “She’s one of my favorite authors.”

“Not surprising since
you
are S. J. Brennan,” Ronan said.

Chapter Three

Sierra eyed him suspiciously. “How do you know that? And what’s with the detective helping me to move in?” Damon and the other guy had moved so fast, Sierra hadn’t had time to protest. She was becoming increasingly brain-dead. She just wanted to crawl into her bed, but couldn’t. Not yet.

“Damon is just being friendly,” Ronan said.

“As in he’s
your
friend, not mine. He’s not really a cop at all, is he? You both set me up.” Sierra rubbed her fingers over her forehead. A massage therapist had once told her it was a good way to release stress.

“Hi, welcome to the neighborhood,” a woman said from the bedroom doorway. “My name is Daniella Delaney, the owner of Heavenly Cupcakes. I can’t believe I’m talking to S. J. Brennan! I really enjoy reading your books.”

“Thanks, but I think it would be best if you all left now. Especially you.” She glared at Ronan.

“What did you do?” Daniella said, joining Sierra in glaring at Ronan. “Do you know how lucky we are to have her move into the neighborhood?”

“My uncle left his house to me but Ronan refuses to leave. Then Damon came and lied by saying that I might own the house but not the property around it,” Sierra said.

Daniella frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Right.” Sierra felt like hugging her. “My point exactly.”

“What does your lawyer say about all this?” Daniella asked.

“I can’t reach him at the moment,” Sierra said.

“I’m staying upstairs until her lawyer gets back and we settle this. Sierra is drawing up a temporary agreement for me to sign,” Ronan said.

“Don’t sign it!” The order came from a newcomer, a tanned blonde wearing stiletto boots, a spandex micromini skirt, and a tight T-shirt. She’d just removed her faux-fur coat.

Sierra was starting to feel like she was in the midst of some bizarre flash mob scene taking place in her own bedroom. “Who are you?” Sierra demanded.

“My name is Tanya and I’m your biggest fan. I’ll move in with you instead.”

A crash from the kitchen drew everyone’s attention. Sierra headed there, and everyone else followed. Or so she thought, but the truth was that somehow the three men entered the kitchen first, as if intent on protecting their womenfolk. Sierra was surprisingly touched by the chivalrous gesture.

“What does a ghost have to do around here to get a little attention?” Ruby demanded. “Oh wait, I guess I have to smash something.” She pointed to the kitchen wall clock now broken on the floor.

“Is that oak?” Daniella asked in a tense voice.

Sierra looked down. “It’s plastic.”

“It was plastic. Now it’s broken,” Ruby said. “This is so frustrating! I’ve been waiting so long for someone to finally see me and now that you do, you don’t pay any attention to me.”

“I’m a little busy here,” Sierra said.

“Right. Everybody out,” Tanya ordered. “The muse is calling her and Sierra has to write now.”

Ruby fluffed her hair. “So I’m a muse now? Can she see me?” Ruby floated over and waved her hand in front of Tanya’s face. “No.” Her luminescent face reflected her disappointment before she returned her attention to Sierra. “Are you afraid of me?”

“I’m not afraid,” Sierra said.

“You should be,” Ronan said. “Look what happened to that guy in the Stephen King novel when his biggest fan got hold of him.”

“I would never do anything to upset my favorite author,” Tanya assured her. “I’ve read your books about a thousand times.”

“I didn’t know you liked reading,” Daniella said.

“Usually I don’t, but I loved these books,” Tanya said. “Especially the latest one. The sex was really hot.”

“The sex?” Ronan raised an eyebrow.

Tanya made it sound like Sierra had written the latest
Fifty Shades of Grey
book. Sierra could tell by the look on Ronan’s face that he was thinking the same thing.

Tanya clapped her hands. “Everybody out.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ronan said.

“Maybe you should all step out for a bit while Sierra and I have a cup of tea and some cupcakes,” Daniella said.

Sierra couldn’t deny that the cupcakes looked delicious and her stomach was growling. The last food she’d had was … she couldn’t remember. Had it been a burrito from the Quik-Mart place near the Indiana border where she’d filled the car with gas?

“I’ll stay,” Tanya said.

“No you won’t,” Nick said.

One look from Nick stopped Tanya’s protest.

Damon, Nick, and Tanya left but Ronan stayed. Daniella gave him a look, as did Sierra.

“I’ll be in the basement checking the lighting,” Ronan finally said.

“You should go with your friends,” Sierra said.

“I’m not leaving,” he said.

“If you go down there, you’ll need a flashlight,” she reminded him.

“I have excellent night vision,” he said.

“It’s your funeral.” It was a trademark line from her books.

He shrugged. “I’m not into funerals.”

From the kitchen doorway leading to the hall she could see him open the basement door and descend the stairs.

“Okay, then.” Daniella flipped open the cardboard box she still held in her arms. “Do you prefer chocolate, red velvet, or cookies and cream?”

“Chocolate.”

“Ah, a girl after my own heart.”

“I see you’ve got them decorated for Valentine’s Day.”

“It’s only a few days away and it’s one of our busiest times of the year.”

Sierra looked at the cupcake Daniella handed her.

Picking up on Sierra’s uncertainty, Daniella said, “What’s the matter?”

“I’m never sure how to eat one of these in front of someone. I mean, it’s okay if I get frosting on my nose, but not in public. And what about the paper lining? Do I take it off completely or just partially?”

“There is no wrong way to eat a cupcake,” Daniella said.

“I’m sure there must be and I probably do it,” Sierra said.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Just take a big bite. Go on.” Daniella’s grin urged Sierra on. Sure enough, she got icing on her nose. Instead of feeling self-conscious, she grinned back.

“Good, huh?” Daniella said.

Since she had a mouthful of cupcake, Sierra made no reply other than an
mmmm
. Then it hit her—here she was standing in the kitchen chowing down without offering her guest a drink or a seat.

Wiping the icing off, Sierra swallowed. “I don’t have any tea, but I do have my Keurig. How about some coffee?”

A few minutes later, Sierra and Daniella were seated at the hefty dining room table. It looked like it weighed a ton, which was probably why it was still in the house. It would take an army to move it out. So it, the sideboard, the living room couch, and the other furniture had stayed.

Staying wasn’t in Sierra’s history. Her thoughts were interrupted by Daniella.

“I’m sure this must all be hard for you,” the cupcake maker said. “Moving to a new place is always a challenge.”

“It’s a bigger challenge when you open the door to find a naked guy standing there,” Sierra said.

Daniella’s jaw dropped. “Did Ronan kick him out?”

“Ronan
was
the naked guy.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

“I didn’t either for a split second. Then I told him to leave.” Sierra didn’t bring up the part about talking to Ruby and thinking the ghost was Ronan’s girlfriend.

“I don’t know what I would have done in your place,” Daniella said. “I probably would have turned around and left.”

“I don’t give up easily.” Which was how she’d survived a challenging childhood. Sierra’s father was an alcoholic abuser who’d beaten Sierra’s mom. When Sierra was five, her mom took Sierra with her and left him.

Her mother hadn’t trusted the judicial system to protect her so she hadn’t filed a restraining order. Instead she’d taken off with Sierra in the middle of the night and never looked back. Or to be more accurate, her mother had always looked back over her shoulder to stay one step ahead of her father. Sierra remembered enough of her father’s fury and violence that she never doubted his promise that he’d make them pay. So they’d kept moving.

That had gone on for nearly a decade before they got the word that he’d died of a massive heart attack.

They’d returned home to the Chicago area and reconnected with the few relatives on her mom’s side that remained. Great-uncle Saul had been just about the only one left. But Chicago hadn’t really seemed like home. No place did.

Maybe that was the result of a transient lifestyle. Sierra had spent almost all her life moving every six months or so. The longest they’d ever stayed in one place was a year.

Perhaps that’s why Sierra’s mom had never worried about Sierra’s “invisible friends.” Even when she realized that Sierra was talking to ghosts, she hadn’t worried. “It’s your Irish heritage,” she’d proudly tell Sierra. “My grandmother had the sight as well. She saw the future. You see ghosts. You come by it honestly.”

Sierra saw her first ghost at her seventh birthday party. Only Sierra and her mom were present until a little girl in pigtails showed up. She was in the shadows at first but came forward when Sierra held her hand out.

Her name was Bonita and she wanted Sierra to tell her mom, who lived in the apartment across the hall, that it wasn’t her fault that Bonita had drowned in the apartment-complex pool.

When they were alone, Sierra had tried telling Bonita that she didn’t think an adult would appreciate the message. But Bonita was persistent. So two days later, Sierra had screwed up her courage and knocked on the neighbor’s door.

“Bonita wants me to tell you not to feel bad. It wasn’t your fault,” Sierra said in a rush.

The woman reached out as if she were going to slap Sierra.

Bonita quickly said, “Tell her it wasn’t our dog Tito’s fault either.”

Sierra repeated Bonita’s words in a rush.

“It was an accident,” Bonita said. “I love you, Momma, and Tito too.”

Once again, Sierra said the words.

Bonita’s mother started to cry. Sierra could still remember feeling guilty that she’d made the woman so unhappy. She turned to Bonita, who was looking at a bright light at the end of the apartment hallway. “Tell her I hid her ring in the purple vase.” Bonita waved and then disappeared into the light.

Sierra had repeated the message about the ring before she ran back to her own apartment and hid under the covers. The white light hadn’t frightened her. She sensed it represented something good, not bad. But Bonita’s mother had scared her.