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proud lineage.”
    “Regardless of etymology, I’m calling you Cal. I can’t call you Cletus with a straight face,” I told him, pushing dark, errant hair out of my face. “OK. Now that my panic high seems to be fading, can you explain howwe’ve found ourselves in this situation? I had quite a few things on my to-do list this morning. ‘Take in stray, cranky vampire boarder’ was not on that list.”
    “Cranky? Is my manner not suited to your delicate human sensibilities?”
    “Oh, no, I’ve always wanted an abrasive, sullen creature of the night to call my very own. My self-esteem was getting too high.” He scowled at me. I gave him the shallow, sugary smile I gave Diandra on the rare occasion our paths crossed. “I have enough of my own sarcasm, Cal. I don’t need yours.”
    He eyed me for one long, speculative moment. I felt weighed and measured by those deep, dark eyes. And I got the distinct impression that he didn’t like what he saw. Well, screw him and his “illustrious” lineage. I was a Scanlon, damn it. And my lineage was just as noble. I came from a long line of people … who were probably household servants to some very important people.
    I opened my mouth to tell him that he was welcome to leave anytime he could drag his undead butt out the door, but he finally said, “Someone interfered with my blood supply. There was some substance in the blood that made me weak and sick. I knew something was wrong after consuming a relatively small amount. But by that time, I couldn’t stay on my feet. I lay there on the kitchen floor, drifting in and out of consciousness, for most of the day. I didn’t even feel it when you fell on top of me.”
    “I didn’t fall on top of you, I fell over you.”
    His lips twitched. And I had this bizarre urge to slapthe smirk right off of his face, which wasn’t exactly the best way to establish an amicable business relationship. What was it about this vampire that had me swinging on the mood pendulum so violently? I’d never had trouble behaving professionally around the undead. But something about my new charge made me want to kiss his mouth one minute and punch it the next. Neither of which was a good idea, because either would end up in my being bitten and/or maimed.
    Drawing me out of the internal smacking/kissing debate, Cal said, “You’re very concerned about semantics. Fine, when you fell over me, I didn’t feel it. I only sensed you after you so foolishly stretched your arm over my face. I could feel your pulse beating that delicious tattoo right over my nose. You have a very nice natural aroma. Are you aware of that? Lavender with a hint of iron-rich earth.”
    “Am I going to have to get a rolled-up newspaper?” I demanded.
    A little dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth. I was amusing him, like a petulant little pet. Fantastic. I rolled my eyes. “Are you sure it was the blood that made you weak? Did you do anything else last night that could have made you sick? Blood eventually expires, right? Do vampires have allergies beyond silver and sunlight? Could you have had a reaction to something in your new house, like a cleaning product or new carpet?”
    Cal seemed mildly annoyed with all the questions. He yawned, something I’d never seen vampires do, and blinked as if he was having trouble keeping his eyesopen. “I am sure it was the blood, perhaps something injected into the plastic packet. I wouldn’t have noticed the tampering. And as for allergies, I’m not sure I should reveal my weaknesses to you.”
    “You think I’m going to attack you with Windex?”
    He blinked again. “At the moment, I trust you more than the average human. But you might question your decision to let me into your home at some point tomorrow while I’m resting.”
    “You make a relevant but frustrating point. I’m actually questioning my decision as we speak.” When he tensed, I added, “I figure if I tell you the truth now, you’ll have no reason to