"Merle N. Ambrose?" The name echoed through my head and the pieces started to click. "Merlin? The Merlin?"

He grinned. "He's a good guy. We go way back."

"How far?"

"First cousins."

My brain rifled through all the history lessons I'd endured at the hands of a strict tutor named Jacques. "But I thought Merlin was the son of the Devil?"

"Nephew," he replied as he reached for the door.

Which meant that Ash was a chip off the old Big D block.

"Later." He gave me a quick wink and disappeared before I could voice the thought out loud.

Merlin.

Mordred.

The Devil. Esther.

Mayan sacrifice.

The info whirled in my brain and I had the sudden urge to heave. I was a sucker for happily -ever-afters, not death and destruction. Even more, I was nursing some major guilt for introducing Esther to this guy in the first place.

I drew a deep breath on the off chance that it might ease my panic and tried to calm the frantic beat of my heart.

Think positive.

Yes, the situation looked grim, but that didn't mean things couldn't turn out. There were a whole ten days before next Friday.

Plenty of time for the good guys to find some valuable clues, pinpoint Esther's whereabouts and save the day. She was alive at this moment. Maybe, possibly, in severe pain, but still alive.

I held tight to the hope, tamped down on the sudden anxiety that churned in my stomach and focused on the four messages sitting on my desk.

Message number one? A born vampire by the name of Clarice Harlow Montgomery who was desperately searching for that perfect someone. Namely another born vampire with at least a ten fertility rating (she needed off the charts to balance out her less than impressive o.r.g.a.s.m quotient which measured a measly three, which explained why she needed me in the first place). She 'd attended last night's ball with high hopes of finding Count Right. Instead, she'd gotten drunk and ended up in bed with The Wolf- man. She was now revolted and blaming yours truly because she'd gone from being a sophisticated, happening vampere to a lowly were ho (her words not mine).

O-kay.

Message number two came from Yolanda Jackson, a fashionable were panther and head of security for Barneys New York. "I slept with a demon and my mother's going to kill me."

I definitely shared her pain.

My gaze went to the third slip of paper and my stomach jumped. It was from another client, who'd left a cryptic I want my money back now!

Number four? Ditto on the refund.

I punched the intercom for Evie. "Did we have any positive phone calls about last night?"

"The band called to thank you for the tip."

"Any calls from clients?"

"No, but Word hit it off with a receptionist from Stern and Finley Investments. He told me all about it when I dropped off my camera so he could download the pics." Word was the cousin/s.e.xual deviant who'd given us a rock-bottom price on the new ad brochure.

"We don't have anyone from Stern and Finley in our database."

"He met her at a club last week, asked her out and, bam, instant chemistry. Can you believe it? We hooked him up with fourteen girls and not one of them would go out with him again. His first time flying solo and, bam, he hits a home run."

"You're not making me feel better."

"Look on the bright side. At least you know that love is still alive and well in the Big Apple. That, and your outfit is totally fab." Normally such a comment would have safely distracted me from my misery for at least a nanosecond (we're talking black Zac Posen mini-skirt, ivory sh.e.l.l and Oscar de la Renta pink python heels). Instead, my gut clenched and the backs of my eyes burned.

What can I say? I'm growing.

"And I love that eye shadow. What is that? MAC's glitter sunrise?"

I smiled. "Sephora." I haven't grown that much.

I disconnected from Evie and powered up my computer. I was just pulling up last night 's guest list to cruise for possible matches when the phone rang. A few seconds later, Evie buzzed me.

"Don't tell me. It 's Janice Tarrington calling to thank me for introducing her to Michael Brandenberg. " Both were born vampires. High fertility rating for him. Impressive o.r.g.a.s.m quotient for her. Both had a fondness for opera and the Mets. They 'd danced all night and I'd even seen Michael licking Janice's neck during a soulful rendition of Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On."

Sure, they'd left in separate cabs after he'd tried to bite her and she'd told him to put his commitment vial where his mouth was, but what's love without a little tiff every now and then? Even one that involved b.i.t.c.h -slapping (boy, can Janice pack a punch) and crying (who knew a male vamp could wail in three different octaves?).

"It's your sister-in-law."

So much for optimism.

"She sounds worked up," Evie added.

"Thanks." I punched line one. "Mandy? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm better than fine. I'm ecstatic. Jack and I are going to have a baby and it 's all because of your wonderful, supportive mother."

The words stumbled around in my brain for a split second. "Come again?"

"Your mother is the greatest."

"My mother?"

"The sweetest."

"Jaqueline Marchette?"

"The kindest."

"The Jaqueline Marchette, who lives in Fairfield, Connecticut?"

"The most compa.s.sionate."

"The one who takes up two parking s.p.a.ces? And b.u.t.ts her nose into everyone's business? And gives away boxes of raisins at Halloween?"

"Raisins are healthy."

"Exactly." My mother was always thinking in selfish terms. Load up the kids with raisins. They grow to be healthy adults and a perfect food source should the blood bottlers go out of business. "Halloween is all about Hershey bars and Pixie Stix. Any self- respecting human knows that." "All right, so she might need a little redirection when it comes to trick -or-treaters, but otherwise she's the most wonderful female vampire in the entire universe." Mandy drew an excited breath. "She's promised to do everything in her power to help us have a baby."

"That's too cool." Or it would have been if we weren't having a give and take that starred my mother. "I'm glad it all worked out." I licked my lips and chose my next words carefully. "But I was sort of under the impression that she was a little concerned about the whole situation. Not because she doesn't absolutely love you or because she thinks you guys never should have tied the knot, or anything crazy like that." I went for a laugh. "It's just that it's sort of an unusual situation and not very common. I mean, you are human."

"That's exactly what your mother said. But when I explained that I've been doing research and there's no reason that Jack and I can't have a normal, healthy human baby, she was fine with it."

"She was?"

I could practically hear Mandy nodding on the other end. "Thrilled, even. She and your dad even insisted on toasting us. They brought a bottle of champagne just for the occa-"

"Do not drink the champagne!"

"I wouldn't drink champagne, silly."

Relief rolled through me. Short-lived when she added, "I drank hot chocolate. Your mother brought it especially for me. She wouldn't let Nina have even a sip."

"Nina and Rob were there?"

"They didn't want to miss the happy occasion. Anyhow, Nina asked for hot chocolate, but your mother insisted it was something special just for me. Said it was her own secret recipe."

This news sparked a big uh-oh for two very important reasons: 1) my mother didn't have any special recipes, on account of she never cooked or whipped up stuff or did anything remotely domestic, and 2) she was a pretentious lunatic vampire who would sooner flay herself than do anything nice for a human.

Hence, upon hearing the news I was this close to having a coronary.

"You should have seen her," Mandy went on, up-ping my heartbeat until I was nearing a full -blown code blue. "She was fussing over me as if I were already pregnant. She made Nina move to the love seat so that I could sit in the recliner. She made me put my feet up while she rushed off to the kitchen to mix up a cup. She even left a canister of the stuff so that I could enjoy another cup later. Isn't that thoughtful?"

"She definitely did a lot of thinking." And plotting. And planning. "Listen, Mandy. Don't drink any more, okay?"

"But why? It's so delicious."

"Because ..."

Because your night creeping mother-in-law doesn't want human grandchildren and will do anything to sabotage your chances.

Because she's a controlling, manipulative born bloodsucker who wants everything her own way.

"Because it's chocolate," I blurted, my mind racing for a plausible excuse that wouldn't hurt her feelings and start a major family feud. "Chocolate has caffeine and caffeine is bad for you." "Not in such a small amount, silly." She paused as if remembering something. "Then again, I don't want to do anything that might inhibit my chances at conception. Maybe I should lay off the caffeine entirely."

Atta girl. "It's the only way to be totally safe."

"I'll give the rest to Jack. He loves hot chocolate."

"That might not be such a good idea."

"Why?"

Who knew what Yaz-tainted hot chocolate would do to a male BV's fertility rating. A quick mental of Jack's Mr. Happy withering up and falling off and I blurted, "If you have to give up your favorites, he should have to sacrifice a little, too. He is the father."

"True." She seemed to think. "It really isn't fair that my b.u.t.t spreads and my ankles swell, while he sits around sucking down imported chocolate and getting ma.s.sages."

"Ma.s.sages? You mean ..." I wasn't going to think it, much less say it.

"Hans is here."

Hans was six feet plus of beautiful, blond Swede. He had bulging muscles and awesome hands and I l.u.s.ted after his hot oil ma.s.sage the way a PMSing female l.u.s.ts after a triple chunk brownie.

Unfortunately, my mother kept Hans to herself and so I 'd only experienced the magic once, when she and my father had attended an Old World French Vampires reunion in Paris.

I'd been house-sitting and Hans had been bored and, well, abracadabra.

"She really left Hans with you?"

"She said a ma.s.sage would relax Jack and up his chances of shooting a bull's-eye."

And give her a spy in the house hold to report back Jack and Mandy's every conception attempt.

Big Brother had nothing on Big Mama.

"You don't need a ma.s.sage. What you need is some alone time with my brother."

"I do feel funny having a stranger in the apartment. I tend to get a little noisy when we're, you know, having intercourse."

Too much info. "It's settled, then. Send him over to my place and I'll see that he gets back to my mom."

"You'd do that for us?"

"What are sisters for?"

"You're the greatest. I swear, you and your mom are two peas in the same pod."

As if I weren't feeling c.r.a.ppy enough over Esther's disappearance, Mandy's comment stirred up a giant wave of Ugh, my afterlife sucks. I said good-bye, gave a last warning about the chocolate and hung up. And then I shifted my attention to the stack of bills sitting on the corner of my desk.

I was this close to staking myself as it was. Might as well go for broke.

W hen the whole world is going to Hades in a Hermes silk bag (we're talking a major stack of bills), there are certain strategies a girl must employ to get by: a double spritz of my favorite, Gucci Rush, an extra -large Starbucks House Blend with three shots of espresso and ten minutes of online l.u.s.ting at Bloomingdales.com [http://Bloomingdales.com] (that would be online shopping for anyone with a lucrative job who doesn't rely on the dating habits of the fanged and fickle).

"I'm heading out." Evie ducked her head in the doorway. "Don't forget to brainstorm some tag lines for the brochure.

Personally, I'm leaning toward Get Your Monogamy On, but it's your call."

I hadn't told Evie about Esther's disappearance. I didn't want to worry her, much less raise a zillion questions regarding made vampires and ancient warlocks. Better to keep my trap shut and my fingers crossed.

Besides, Esther was going to be okay. No sense in drumming up a huge drama, when everything would turn out in the end.