Phoebe's cheeks dimpled in a grin. "She has a way, doesn't she?"

"A way. A mouth. An att.i.tude, but she does know what it is to live as a vampire. She deserves credit for at least trying to help us-even if it is with a chip the size of Gibraltar on her shoulder. Plus, I really think her bark is much worse than her bite."

She took a step back from him, creating some much-needed s.p.a.ce. "You've known her for all of, what-twenty minutes-and you've already evaluated her marshmallowy center?"

"It's been probably more like five or six hours. Long, long, loud, chaotic, violent hours," he reflected on a wry grin. "But again, what do we know about being vampires? What if something else as unexpected as your teleportation happens? Nina'd be our best shot at survival, and Mark needs someone to stay with him. Would poor Mark want that someone to be Nina?"

"Point."

Sam smiled. He held out his hand to her. So n.o.ble. So filled with sincerity. So s.e.xy. "Good. So we're in this together?"

Phoebe's reluctant brain wasn't as quick as her needy hand when she found her fingers straying toward his. "Oh, I'm all for finding out why we're going to die as a team. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Sam swept his arm comically in front of him. "Then after you, milady."

She held up a finger. "Wait. Promise me something."

"Name it."

"Duck if you hear the words Barbie and my name in a sentence come out of Nina's mouth. I wouldn't want to damage those nice cheekbones if you get in my way when I clock her in the chops."

He mock-preened. "You like my cheekbones?"

"I'd kill small children for them."

"You don't like kids?"

Kids. There'd be none of those for her. Not with a prognosis as grim as the one she'd been dealt. Rather than dwell, she shot him a flippant answer. "Not as much as I like your cheekbones."

He chuckled on his way out of the kitchen with a hesitant Phoebe lagging behind him.

SAM let his forehead rest against the door of his apartment, still disoriented by the idea that they'd run from Phoebe's place almost across town to his warehouse apartment in just under five minutes flat. The scientific half of his brain wanted to explore this incredible anomaly. The other half of it just wanted to find a quiet corner in which to mourn the pa.s.sing of an ice-cold Corona and chimichangas.

But there was work to do ...

Phoebe stood behind him, still rather dazed. "We just ran ..."

Sam nodded. "I know, right?"

She looked down at her feet and back up at him, her eyes adorably wide, her lips sweetly plump. "I'm considering a spot on the track team at the Olympics. You know, as a fallback on the off chance I have no clients left when this is all said and done."

"I think you'd look really cute in one of those leotards and running shoes." He instantly nixed the visual of her naked and in running shoes. Bad, Sam. No biscuit.

But ...

No buts. You know better. No naked in running shoes or otherwise. Nip it, pal.

"Her a.s.s is too big for one of those leotards. It's definitely way too big to fit on a Wheaties box," Nina taunted, giving Phoebe a playful punch in the shoulder before stretching her arms above her head.

"You know what, Nina?"

"What, Barbie?"

"I'm not going to respond to that."

"That's because you're too slow."

"No. It's because I'm still too astounded you actually knew what the word Olympics meant," Phoebe shot back, sticking her face in Nina's and smiling.

Sam planted a hand on each woman's shoulder before Nina could get to Phoebe. "Girls? Where is the love, I ask you? Play nice or I'll be forced to separate you." He winked, then reached for his doork.n.o.b and remembered something vital. "d.a.m.n. My purse. The keys are in my purse."

Of all the things to lose. His thrift-store bargain purse. Thankfully, he'd only had a small amount of cash in it and his license. Nothing he couldn't live without or replace. Right now, all he wanted was to get the h.e.l.l out of this ridiculous outfit and have a moment to think.

"Move," Nina ordered, shoving Sam out of her way and wrapping her hand around the doork.n.o.b to give it a good twist. The handle was mutilated, but the door was open. "It's good to be a vampire, huh, Sammy?" She clapped him on his broad back with a chuckle.

Phoebe's eyes connected with his for a moment, wide and filled with the kind of wonder/terror he'd expressed himself at least half a dozen times or so since this had started. But then she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders; Sam found himself admiring her determination to show Nina she was no slacker in the suck-it-up, you're-a-vampire department.

He found himself admiring many things about her. Aside from her physical attributes, which were aplenty, he mostly admired the fact that she hadn't completely given in to the side of her that wanted to turn tail and run screaming. Instead, she plowed ahead right behind her fearless sister in a silent battle of who was the badder a.s.s.

Nina gave him a shove. "Let's do this, Gigantor. We need to hurry it up if we're going to be back to our coffins in time for daylight. You know, so we don't f.u.c.king burn to death?"

Phoebe's grunt of displeasure inspired Sam to move. "Right. Snap, crackle, pop. I'll make it fast."

Upon entering his apartment, everything was pitch black; yet, he could see every single detail as though it were brightly lit.

Every messy detail of it.

"Are all bug lovers so messy?" Phoebe asked, stepping on a pile of clothes in the corner of the living room and stumbling over a stack of old National Geographics.

"Aw, h.e.l.l," Sam muttered, reaching for the light switch and hissing along with Phoebe and Nina when the glare of the track lighting stung their eyes.

But the light brought with it clarity.

Nina's tongue clucked. "G.o.dd.a.m.n it. Didn't I say some s.h.i.t just wasn't right about what went down with you, Sammy?" she snarled, perusing Sam's overturned end tables and armchair. "You've been jacked, dude." She bent at the waist, lifting his mountain bike up with one finger and setting it upright. "The motherf.u.c.kers."

Stooping, Sam cleared a path through torn throw pillows and broken gla.s.s to make his way across the long length of his living room. The pictures that had adorned the deep barn red of the walls were ripped off, the frames shattered in black enamel pieces scattered over the barn wood flooring. His chest of drawers that he used to keep his live specimen containers and various other tools of the entomology trade had been tipped over, the drawers yanked free of the wood.

"Oh, Sam. I'm sorry," Phoebe whispered from her corner of his living room, stooping to pick up a fallen planter that once held the clippings of a Christmas cactus his mother had given him years ago so he'd always think of her. He took it with him wherever he went.

Sam's eyes scanned the room to a.s.sess the damage and noted how odd it was that the fifty-two-inch flat screen and sound system were still intact. "I'm beginning to think you're right. But what is it that I have, and who the h.e.l.l wants it?" He kept his face expressionless, but his thoughts were moving a mile a minute.

"Shouldn't we call the police?" Phoebe asked, the tremor of fear in her voice easy to detect with his newly defined hearing.

Nina hunched her shoulders forward and scoffed. "And tell them what, princess? That we think some vampires trashed Sam's apartment? Do you want to end up in the nearest House of Crazy? We can't have cops here asking a bunch of questions we'll only have to lie about the answers to anyway. Remember the lay-low rule? That applies to everything from now on-which means this is clan business."

"Then maybe you should get to dialing clan nine-one-one-because I think Sam's been robbed, Bat Girl," Phoebe drawled, shooting Nina an arrogant raise of her eyebrow.

Sam clenched his fists and searched for the patience to deal with two women so at odds. "Nina's right. Until further inspection, I can't see that they did anything more than toss the place. My bike's still here. The TV and surround sound. I don't keep money lying around. I don't get it."

And then his eyes strayed to his desk, the desk that had been his since he was a kid in college. Something else that went with him wherever he went. The one that still held his O-Tech laptop and personal desktop computer.

Nina caught Sam's gaze of disbelief and said, "What kind of a.s.s-clown thieves leave behind two computers and a flat screen? The ones trained at the blind division in the CIA?" Her nostrils flared and her nose wrinkled in distaste. She held a hand up in clear warning. "I smell vamp, dudes. You two smell that? It's nasty-a.s.s vamp. Like no other kind of vampire I've ever smelled before. Take a deep whiff, kiddies, and memorize that stank, because whoever trashed your place is a vampire, but definitely isn't part of our clan."

"This sniffing out clan members?" Phoebe interjected, her eyes skeptical. "Is it like when dogs sniff each other's b.u.t.ts? Is that how we recognize each other?"

Nina crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, smart a.s.s. So from now on, ask everyone you meet to bend over."

"Nina," Sam warned, flipping open the laptop to find that it was on.

"Look, your sense of smell's going to take on a whole new meaning, Strawberry Shortcake. You'll be able to smell others like you and others not like you. It's in your best interest to f.u.c.king learn the difference, because sometimes the others not like you are the bad guys. So pay attention."

Phoebe took an exaggerated sniff of the room, a gesture clearly meant to taunt Nina, but then her head c.o.c.ked to the right. "Huh. I do smell it. Do you smell that, Sam?"

But Sam was too busy staring at his computer screen and the scattered DVDs to address it-a computer screen that was just like he'd left it before he'd gone to the party. A computer he'd turned off that was now on. "Well, whatever this vampire was looking for, they thought it was on my laptop, but it looks like everything's the same as it was when I left. But do note, I shut down before I left for the party the other night. This was on."

Nina was at his side in an instant, leaning over his shoulder to gaze at the screen. "So what's on it besides p.o.r.n and a website for the rules on how to hook up with a vampire at a Halloween party?"

Sam scratched his head in feigned thought, planting a hand on the desk to brace himself, keeping his face blank. "Nothing important. It's my work computer. I bring it home a lot in order to work on pest-control formulas. All sorts of boring bug-related stuff you wouldn't understand. But it wasn't the sort of stuff breakthroughs are made of. It was just a bunch of research data, mostly old, mostly already marketed and sold. I keep copies of everything I had a hand in helping create."

Nina flicked the laptop with her finger. "So whoever the h.e.l.l this was thinks you have something important from O-Tech-which means it isn't safe for you to go to work, Sam. Not until we know what the frig this is about."

Just when you thought you'd pinnacled the crazy meter ... "So what do I do, call in vampire?"

Nina's eyebrow rose. "Got any sick days? Vacation days?"

Sam avoided her eyes, pretending to look down at the computer. "Yeah."

"Use them. Make some family bulls.h.i.t up or whatever," Nina ordered, picking up a stack of computer paper and putting it neatly back on his printer. "And while you take that shower and change into your man garb, think. Think about anyone in the recent past that seemed suspicious at O-Tech. Any f.u.c.king little thing is worth mentioning. Go take a shower. We'll get this." She waved a hand at the overturned furniture.

Sam hesitated when Phoebe shot him a look of cornered animal from across the room. "If I leave the two of you alone, do you promise to play nice with Phoebe, Nina?" he asked, keeping his tone jovial and light.

Nina snorted, giving Sam a sly grin. "Don't you worry your cross-dressing, gel-bra-wearing head. Me and Barbie here are gonna straighten up the Dream House. You got so much s.h.i.t all over the place I won't have time to beat the f.u.c.k out of her with a rope of garlic. Promise. But hurry it up, because I'm tempted."

Phoebe mouthed the words thanks a lot to him via her plump, full lips, then followed up with an upward jut of her middle finger.

He chuckled on the way into his bathroom, one room that was oddly intact but for the vanity, where an empty drawer was open. Grabbing a towel, he stopped at the mirror above his sink and wondered how he'd shave without tearing himself up if he couldn't see what he was doing.

Not that it mattered. He did have the ability to self heal.

And run like he was the millennium's latest answer to the bionic man.

And maybe, if he was anything like Nina, read minds.

Which meant he could find out if Phoebe thought he was as hot as Sam thought she was.

Flipping the tap on, he grinned at the notion, then chastised himself for wondering if she wanted to see him naked as much as he wanted to see her sans clothes.

Bad, bad Sam.

He had other things to worry about, and none of them included becoming involved with Phoebe. However, it was the other things that were going to keep him glued to her side whether he wanted to be or not.

Because at all costs, he was going to ensure her safety.

Duty called.

"I'M almost afraid to ask what this is," Phoebe pondered more to herself than Nina as she picked up a Tupperware container with the biggest beetle she'd ever seen. She dropped it on top of the dresser where Sam kept his specimens.

They'd been straightening up toppled furniture and bug specimens in relative silence while Sam showered and changed, giving her far too much time to think. How could she possibly keep her small business afloat if she couldn't go out in the daylight hours? Last she'd checked, Tiffany's wasn't open at midnight.

Mark could only handle so much without her input. They were already on client overload as it was, and next week was one of their biggest, most important client shoots. Scheduled for six A.M. so they could get the best lighting, so sayeth rapper Dawg and his crew of grill-wearing, drooping-trousered boyz.

Pressing a thumb to her forehead, Phoebe paused and wished she were still able to take a deep, cleansing breath.

"You all right over there, princess?"

Her spine straightened and cracked, she shot upright so quickly. Okay. Enough with the snide nicknames and openly rude remarks about her person. The Phoebe of just twenty-four hours ago would never have stood by and allowed anyone to take potshots at her while she bit her lip to keep from creating drama.

Nay.

The Phoebe of twenty-four hours ago would have confronted her attacker, whether she was her sister or not. Out of respect for their new situation, she'd fought the impulse to continually fire back, but really. She'd had it up to her eyeb.a.l.l.s with the wisecracks.

She lobbed a colorful pillow she'd planned to fluff at Nina, marveling at the speed it sailed across the room with. "Lay off the stupid pet names, Nina. You do not want to tangle with this Barbie."

Nina's hand was in the air in a blur of lean fingers, deftly catching the pillow and dropping it to the floor. "Back at'cha, princess." Her pale face offered up a challenge from the confines of her hoodie.

Anger, red and hot, flushed Phoebe's gut. Anger she fought hard to maintain control of despite the surge of spiky heat along her scalp. "I said knock it off."

"Or what?" Nina spread her arms wide and rolled her neck. "You'll pull my pigtails? Please. Look, lemme lay this s.h.i.t out for you, so I'm crystal f.u.c.king clear about where I stand on this bogus bulls.h.i.t. So we're half sisters. Or whatever-the-f.u.c.k. You have proof. Big deal. Just because a piece of paper says I'm your blood doesn't mean we're gonna do each other's hair and play Mystery Date. I don't want a sister. I don't need a sister. I'm only in this to make sure you're all right because, in truth, I cornered you and made you trip over Sam. I own what I did. My bad. You need to own that you just weren't quick enough for the likes of me. Your bad. And now, I'm doing my part in this flippin' accident, but it doesn't mean I want to have Sunday blood brunches with you."

"Well, thank G.o.d for small favors. I'll consider myself lucky, then, because I'd bet you chew your food with your mouth open!" Phoebe spat, Nina's childish behavior finally getting the best of her.

Nina smiled her agreement. "Yeah. But I beat the s.h.i.t out of people with my fist closed."

Phoebe's finger shot up in the air to punctuate a forthcoming thought. "You forget, sister. I'm just like you now. Just as strong. Just as scary. I also have that not-afraid-of-a-whole-lot gene you possess, and I had it before you did this to me, you poster child for anger management! So while we look and dress like we're poles apart, be warned. I'm the socially acceptable, better-grasp-on-the-English-language version of you."

Nina's hands clenched at her sides, the thin blue veins in her neck straining against her creamy white skin. "What the f.u.c.k is it that you expected from me when you showed up? Did you think I was gonna grab your hand and skip through fields of b.u.t.tercups with you while we f.u.c.king picnicked and sang folk songs in the sunshine?"

Well, it hadn't exactly been like that. There were no b.u.t.tercups. Okay, so maybe there'd been a picnic ... on a checkered blanket ... in Central Park. So?

The dream had been more about them maybe having dinner together once in a while. Calling each other occasionally-like Christmas and birthdays. Nina being a supportive shoulder to lean on when her boyfriend dumped her because she was defective. Reaching out to someone before she wasn't able to reach out at all ...

It had been about feeding her curiosity and checking off the no-regrets box before she literally lost her wits. It had been about ensuring the future of ... She shook her head to ward off the one last piece of information she'd kept from Nina and the others. After Nina's reaction, there was no need to disclose anything else.

For all the warnings her mother had given her about Nina and her sour disposition before she'd died, Phoebe couldn't have possibly imagined the reality. She just hadn't expected the height of Nina's wall to be so impenetrable. "I expected next to nothing and got less. More's the pity. But my mother warned me about you. So I was semi-prepared."

Phoebe watched the play of emotions on Nina's hard face, the surprise that her mother knew anything about her wash over her. She also watched as Nina grappled with her own brand of curiosity. "And what the f.u.c.k does your mother know about me? I don't know your mother, and she sure as s.h.i.t didn't know me."

Knowing she was stepping onto a virtual land mine, Phoebe chose to step anyway. Call it overwhelmed, fed up, whatever, but she wanted to rile Nina-to poke at her for being such a mean girl. "Ah, but our father knew all about you and he shared a great deal of it with my mother just before he died."