Your Coffin or Mine? 3 by Raye Kimberly

Author:Raye, Kimberly [Raye, Kimberly]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Fantasy, Fiction, Contemporary, General
ISBN: 9780345502384
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2007-09-25T07:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

After we finished up at Wedding Wonderland, I took a cab straight home. I drank a glass of freshly nuked blood, fed Killer a can of cat food, and then spent the next few hours on the computer researching alternatives to the wedding dress situation. When I felt certain I had a workable plan, I tackled the ceremony location.

“I need a favor,” I told Nina One when she answered her cellphone.

“I need my jacket. And my sunglasses.”

“You can have them both if you do me this one itty-bitty favor.”

“I’m not seducing Remy. He’s nice and all, but I’m not ready to squeeze out a couple of born vamps right now and his mother is worse than yours.”

No, really? “This isn’t about Remy. I need a ballroom.” I explained the Mandy situation and ended with a dramatic, “If you do this for me, I’ll do anything.”

“Bajra cashmere scarf?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of my first-born. My second, too, if you validate parking.”

“Sorry, but I prefer more immediate gratification. Like, say, sometime in this century.”

“Thanks a lot.” I closed my eyes and pictured my all-time favorite accessory ever. At least until Hermés came out with their fall collection in three months, two days, and sixteen hours. “Okay,” I blurted before I could change my mind. “It’s yours.”

“Really?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

“I’ll check our schedule and see who I can bump.” She paused and I could hear her fingers flying over the keyboard. “It’ll be tricky. We already have a banquet for the bar association scheduled for that evening.” More typing and my anxiety level kicked up a notch.

“Maybe I’ll call Lola and see if she can work something at the Plaza,” I said. The minute the words were out, the fingertips tapping the keyboard on the other end of the line stopped cold and the earth stalled on its axis.

Lola Bettancourt Camden was the daughter of real estate tycoon and born vamp extraordinaire Hamilton Camden. Her father and Nina’s frequently competed for the same high-end properties. The running score as of yesterday’s buyout of the Chase bank building put Hamilton in the lead while Victor Lancaster ran a close second.

Following in their fathers’ Gucci footsteps, Nina and Lola frequently went head-to-head for rare and extremely hard to come by designer couture. My Bajra was a one-of-a-kind. A gift from my mother, along with my own closetful of lime-green Polos and beige Dockers, when she and Dad had handed over the NYU locations of Midnight Moe’s to yours truly for my last birthday present.

I’d given back the copy centers (the uniforms had my name embroidered on them, which meant they were mine until they started to decay or I had a run-in with a sharp object), but I’d snapped up the scarf faster than Killer went through a dish of Tantalizing Tuna.

“You wouldn’t call Lola,” she finally said, her voice accusing. “You hate Lola.”

“She’s a bitch, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t strike a little deal with her in the name of family.

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