Read Dead and Dateless for Free Online

wardrobe coup.
    “This is all your fault,” my mother told my father. “My side of the family is the picture of discretion.”
    “What—”
    “Now, folks,” Remy cut in. “There’s no need to blame each other for this unfortunate situation. What’s done is done and the only way out of it is to stick together.”
    “Such a smart boy,” my mother said. “But of course, you’re right.”
    “I still don’t see why the police are so convinced she’s guilty,” my father said. “Just because she was seen at this reporter’s apartment doesn’t mean she killed him.”
    Right on, Dad.
    “True, but the victim took a picture of her with his camera phone just minutes before the projected time of death. She was in his bedroom where he was killed. With the murder weapon in her hand. A huge kitchen knife.”
    Duh. I couldn’t very well let him rush off to meet his soul mate with the tags still attached to his shirt. Talk about a date killer. Oops. My bad.
    “There are security cameras all over the building and no one else was seen going in or out of the apartment.”
    “She didn’t kill anyone,” my father insisted. “She might be a little out of the ordinary, but she wouldn’t betray her family by doing anything that would risk exposure.”
    I wouldn’t? I mean, of course I wouldn’t. I love my family.
    Most of the time, anyway.
    “We raised her better than that,” my mother added. “At least we tried.”
    “I’m sure you’re right and this is all a mistake,” Remy said. “I know Lil. She wouldn’t do this.”
    Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to cross Remy off my prospective eternity mate list. Bam! factor aside, you had to love a man who believed in you.
    “But the city police think she’s your average killer. Particularly after she resisted arrest and assaulted half the cops on the scene when they tried to take her into custody. She’s in a lot of trouble and it’s a given that you’ll both be pulled in for questioning. It would save a lot of time and trouble if you would come down to the station with me right now and make a statement. Otherwise, you’ll be opening the door to a search warrant.”
    “Let me get my purse,” my mother said.
    I listened as my parents left with Remy, and then I sank down onto the nearest float and tried not to hyperventilate.
    Stop breathing, I told myself. Just stop it. You don’t need to breathe. Breathing leads to hyperventilating and vampires don’t hyperventilate. Or panic. Or cry. They stay calm. And cool. And in complete control. And they plan. They figure out where they’re going and how to get there and then they just do it.
    That’s what I told myself, but instead of working on getting myself from point A (hiding out for a murder I didn’t commit) to point B (innocence, major financial success, and a date with Orlando Bloom or Jason Allen), I kept picturing Keith in his new blue shirt getting sliced and diced and— can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe.
    Maybe my mother was right.
    Maybe I had been switched at birth, because vampire or not, I was definitely in the middle of a major panic attack.

Dear Mom and Dad,
I just stopped by to say hi. Sorry I missed you guys. Take care and I’ll see you at the next hunt.
    Love, Jack
P.S. Don’t worry about Dad’s Hummer. I’m just borrowing it.
             
    I clipped the note to a refrigerator magnet and grabbed the keys hanging near the back door. After punching in the security code, I let myself out the kitchen door and headed for the massive garage that housed a half dozen vehicles.
    After the panic attack and some shallow breathing into an old potato chip bag I’d found in the pool house (the maid/watcher had a thing for sour cream and onion), I’d calmed down enough to formulate a plan. I now had two and a half hours until sunup, which meant I needed a safe place. Somewhere no one would think to look for me. A place that couldn’t be traced back to me. Which meant I