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looked down at my father—“were you the father?”
    â€œYessss.” My dad sounded drugged. But then, anybody did once Sinclair got close enough. He was the best I’d seen at it. I could only entrance men, but he could do anybody.
    â€œWhere is the baby?”
    â€œAntonia didn’t tell me…didn’t…we weren’t together, and she gave it…she didn’t…she…”
    â€œYou better stop,” I said. “He’s about to blow all his cylinders.”
    â€œQuite right,” Sinclair said. “That would be truly terrible.”
    I gave Sinclair a look, then took my dad by the shoulders. “Dad. Dad! Listen. You came over and made sure I wasn’t going to come to the shower.”
    â€œYes, I made sure of that,” he agreed, focusing on me at once. “Antonia insisted.”
    I gritted my teeth. Bitch! “But I didn’t want to go anyway, so it all worked out fine.”
    â€œYes, you refused to go, so it really was all for the best.”
    â€œAnd I looked like hell.”
    â€œYes, you looked terrible, being dead isn’t agreeing with you at all, not at all, just like Antonia said it wouldn’t.”
    â€œNow go golfing and,” I added spitefully, “stroke three figures.”
    â€œOuch,” Jessica said as my father marched out.
    â€œI am just not believing this,” I said, massaging my temples. “Like I don’t have enough to worry about. I can’t believe he let that slip.”
    â€œYou have that effect on men,” Sinclair said kindly. “They always reveal more than planned to you.”
    I shrugged but was inwardly pleased. “How long has he been carrying this secret around? Why did he just happen to blurt it out while you and I were in the room? Jessica, would you climb down, for heaven’s sake? I’m dying to know the rest. I mean, I might have a brother or sister running around now .”
    â€œThis doesn’t bode well for your stress levels,” Jessica commented, letting go of Sinclair’s neck and dropping to the floor.
    â€œWe will find out more. Your father has incomplete information anyway. We should go directly to the source.”
    â€œAntonia,” Jessica and I said at the same time.

Chapter 6
    S inclair’s convertible was ridiculously crowded. He was driving, I was riding shotgun (finally, a perk to our “relationship”), and Marc, Jessica, and Tina were in the backseat.
    Tina had come because…well, she always came with Sinclair when we were doing vampire stuff. The two of them went way back—in fact, she’d turned him. She was like his combination best pal/secretary/enforcer/confidant. Which was fine with me, because I sure as shit didn’t want to do any of those things.
    We had decided Marc should come along because we planned to drag all the gory details out of the Ant, and you never knew when a physician might come in handy.
    Jessica, however, had blackmailed her way along. Sinclair had a lot of odious qualities, I’ll be the first to say it (again and again); but one thing he liked to do was keep my friends out of vampire issues. And I couldn’t really blame him…you just never knew when a totally normal vampire errand would end in a bloodbath with severed-limb soap.
    Jessica never accepted these excuses. She put her size-nine foot down and that was the end of it. The clincher was when she told Sinclair it would be a shame if anything happened to any of his European suits while they were at the dry cleaners.
    â€œIn the old days,” he’d replied, “errand runners were actually helpful.” But that was all he’d said about it; Sinclair was always impeccably dressed, and had all his stuff tailor made. It wasn’t being rich and wanting the best; his shoulders were too broad and his waist too narrow to buy off the rack. I could only imagine what his clothes cost. I had the feeling