“Well,duh .”

I felt a rough tap on my shoulder and I turned around. A husky man wearing a dark blue ski jacket presented me with a fang-filled grin. “You Veronique?”

I stared at him blankly. “Not even remotely. Who are you?”

“I’m her ride to the airport.”

There was a sudden change in the air and I knew without a doubt the woman in question had just entered the room. The scent of expensive perfume wafted under my nostrils. I’d been turned into a vampire exactly seven weeks ago and my sense of smell had been growing daily. This was sometimes a blessing and sometimes—depending on where in the city I was walking—not so much.

I turned to watch her glide through the club.

Veronique eyed the driver and her red lips curved up to the right. “If you could give me one moment to say good-bye to my friend I would greatly appreciate it.”

He nodded, immediately intoxicated by the gorgeous woman with long raven hair, flawless skin, and remarkably white and sparkly fangs.

She glanced at the leaning tower of George and her eyes narrowed. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I was . . . I was just going to . . . ” he stammered, then gave me a stricken look. “Um . . . I’ll go find

Thierry.” He scurried away.

Well, her charms didn’t work on everyone.

But I liked Veronique. Actually I liked her a lot, but there was one big thing about her I wasn’t terribly fond of.

She was Thierry’s wife.

I had been assured that their marriage was in name only after more than six hundred years. Frankly, I couldn’t imagine knowing somebody for thirty years, let alone six hundred. But I still wasn’t thrilled with the situation. Dating a married man, even though the wife was fine and dandy with it, just seemed . . . extremely wrong.

I’d recently summoned enough courage to ask if she’d ever considered getting a divorce. Veronique had waved off my question with a laugh and said, “After so many years, why would I want something like that?”