At least, that's what I was telling myself.

"Speaking of calls," Evie went on, "Mia wants to set up a meeting for Monday."

Mia van Horowitz was a Jewish princess turned tattoo queen who'd come to DED searching for the perfect man-namely one who could keep it up and satisfy her nympho tastes. She was very human and very scary and she wanted a man who could do it at least three times in one night.

"She says that she might have to lower her standards since we haven't been able to hook her up," Evie added. "She sounded really depressed, so you might want to give her a buzz. Also, don't forget to touch base with Mary Weathers-she's the florist at the Waldorf. She claims one of our guests stole three dozen begonias and she's sending us a bill."

The news just kept getting better and better.

"It couldn't be one of our guests." I racked my brain for a mental of someone-anyone-absconding with several vases filled with flowers and came up with nada.

"Maybe it was someone from that tofu convention that was going on downstairs, " Evie offered. "Heaven knows they'll eat anything green."

"Good point." I reached for the phone and Evie shook her head. "You might want to wait until after your seven o'clock."

"I have a seven? Since when?"

She glanced at her watch. "As of forty-five minutes ago. She called and said she needed a date this very minute, so I told her to come right over."

"I think I love you."

"That's what they all say." She winked. "Should I show her in?"

I nodded and pushed to my feet just as a tall, voluptuous redhead walked into my office. She was the quintessential party girl in a silver lame mini-dress, knee-high silver boots and an excited expression.

"Miss Marchette?"

I smiled. "Call me Lil." "Awesome." Her voice was as perky as the double Ds outlined by her fitted dress. Bright green eyes rimmed in silver liner bounced around my office. "Wow. This place is fan-frickin'-tastic."

"Thanks. And your name is?"

"Tabitha. Tabitha Gallows." She perched on the edge of a nearby chair. Her fingers twitched and her feet tapped. She looked ready to bounce back up at the first sign of a Katy Perry song.

I could practically feel the energy rolling off her.

Feel being the key word.

I couldn't read a d.a.m.ned thing. Her eyes sparkled so clear and glistening, yet I couldn 't see one itty-bitty thing about her.

Which meant she wasn't the bubbly, peppy human she appeared.

My nostrils flared, but other than a spritz of Very s.e.xy and the faint aroma of a recent manicure, I smelled nothing but my own eau de cotton candy.

Nix a born vampire.

She wasn't a made vampire either. I realized that when she didn't flash a pair of fangs and try to hump my leg in the first five seconds.

Or a werewolf (she didn't blink much less gaze longingly when I offered her a leftover burger Evie had left in the mini-fridge).

Or a demon (no cursing or vomiting when I accidentally spritzed her with holy water-I had oodles of the stuff left over from Evie's recent possession).

Which left me wondering What the f.u.c.k?

"A warlock," she said, as if reading my mind.

"You're a warlock?"

"No, silly." A brilliant smile parted her full lips. "I'm looking for a warlock."

"So you're a witch?"

"Hardly." Before I could question her further, she shifted the conversation back to finding the perfect Mr. Magic. "He has to be tall, dark and handsome. But not too handsome. He should have a few flaws. Eyebrows that are a little too bushy and a quarter - inch scar running across the left side of his chin. And one dimple cutting into his right cheek. And he has to have brown eyes. Dark brown with a hard gleam. No beard or mustache. Short hair. Six-two."

"Sounds like you have someone in particular in mind."

"No, not really." Laughter bubbled past her lips. "Just my own imagination at work. But I'm sure there's a real man out there who fits the bill." Expectancy lit her gaze. "Have you seen him?" Silence stretched between us for several long seconds as she eyed me and waited for a reply.

"Without a doubt," I finally said. "I have over two thousand eligible bachelors in my database." Give or take 1,488. "I'm sure one of them will fit the description to a T." I settled behind my desk and reached for a pen. "But before we get ahead of ourselves, the first thing we need to do is get to know the real Tabitha. Your likes and dislikes. Your hopes and dreams." I gave her my most convincing smile, along with a mental You should take the ultra-deluxe package.

I know, I know. She was obviously an Other and she was looking for a member of the opposite s.e.x. But hey, it couldn't hurt to try.

"Why don't you get started filling out this questionnaire? " I pulled a form from my bottom desk drawer, attached it to a clipboard and handed it to her. "The best matches are tailored to each individual, so the more I know about you, the better."

"You don't need a form for that. I love dancing and parties and having fun. End of story."

"No hobbies?"

"I do like to shop."

I smiled and made a quick note. "Shopping's good."

"I like watching E! and I'm addicted to Oxygen's Bad Girls Club and I never miss Fashion Week."

"Just jot it all down and I'll see what I can find for you. Evie mentioned that you need a date fast. Is there a special event coming up?"

"Definitely."

"A wedding?"

"Not really."

"Engagement party?"

"No."

"Office get-together?"

"Something like that. If I don't have my warlock with me by midnight next Friday, I'm getting fired."

"That's urgent, all right. Don't worry, we'll find you someone," I said with the utmost confidence, despite the nagging voice that kept reminding me about Esther and last night's fiasco and the fact that I was this close to bankruptcy and a Moe's lime green polo shirt.

A wave of anxiety rushed through me and I attacked my keyboard with renewed determination. Crawling home to my folks would be bad enough. Doing it in lime green? So not happening.

Tabitha spent about a nanosecond filling out the form and fifteen minutes tapping her feet and humming to Katy Perry 's "I Kissed a Girl" drifting over my surround sound.

Meanwhile, I cruised my database for possible matches. I came up with a whopping two-a warlock from Trenton with red hair and a potbelly and a werewolf into Harry Potter role-playing (What? I'm doing the best I can here.).

Tabitha didn't look jazzed about either, but she did agree to check them out. I set up the dates, promised to keep looking and loaded her into a cab bound for a hot new dance club and prospect number one.

I called Mia after that.

"Evie told me you want to lower your standards. Does that mean you're willing to take two o.r.g.a.s.ms a night instead of three?"

"Actually, I was thinking zero. I'm embarking on a new phase in my life."

"The I'm-never-having-fun-again phase?" "I'm embracing celibacy."

Yep, zero fun.

"I want you to find me a man who is not into s.e.x in any way, shape or form," she went on. "A guy who doesn't sleep around or look at p.o.r.n or watch the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show during the Super Bowl halftime. I want a man who'll notice my brains instead of my b.o.o.bs."

"Your last date p.o.o.ped out after the first o.r.g.a.s.m, didn't he?"

"He couldn't even get it up. I gave him a lap dance, but nothing. I'm tired of being let down. If I have zero expectations, I can't get disappointed, right? I figure I'll just go for the exact opposite of my ideal, that way I'm sure to find someone." She sounded so defeated and lonely that my heart hitched.

"We haven't exhausted all of our efforts," I told her. "We can keep looking. We'll eventually find him," I said with more certainty than I felt.

"I'll be too old to enjoy him by then." She seemed to gather her resolve. "No, this is better."

"But is it what you really want?"

"I really want a man who can come five times in one night. A man who is faithful and employed, and who always remembers to put the toilet seat down. Know any?"

"One celibate with substance coming right up."

I lined up three dates for Mia-a Sunday school teacher, a city government worker and a pediatric ER nurse named Harmon (no, really). They weren't the most manly men, but they each had a job and very little interest in s.e.x (too moral, too scared of a scandal and too busy). As for faithful, only time would tell on that but the odds were pretty good.

I spent a few minutes thinking about my own love life and the fact that Ty still hadn 't said the L word (and probably never would). Irrelevant, I told myself. I didn't need it. I knew and that was good enough. Really.

After that, I followed up on last night's matches and tried not to stake myself.

Sheesh. Didn't anyone have a good time?

"I had a fabulous time," Aurelia Sinclair told me.

"Really?"

"Of course. William is the perfect werewolf. He's strong and virile and bald. Procreation is a given."

"William?"

"The guy down in the lobby. The one in the uniform. He handled my car with perfection. The man definitely knows how to drive."

"That wasn't one of my guests. He was the valet."

"Regardless, I'm forever in your debt."

Okay, so it wasn't a match made in DED heaven, but at this point, a satisfied customer was a satisfied customer. "Would you be willing to put that in writing? I'd love a testimonial for the website." I got a three-line spiel about how DED was the ultimate hookup service and decided to call it quits on a high note.

I transferred the phones and was just locking up when I felt the p.r.i.c.kling on the back of my neck. It was the same creepy feeling I'd had on my way into work. A feeling that turned to full-blown panic when I felt the presence directly behind me.

I know, I know. Megalicious vampire and terror don't exactly go together-unless, of course, I'm the one striking terror in the hearts of innocent villagers. But this is New York. You never know what's going to creep out of an alley.

"I don't have any money," I said, fighting to keep my voice even. "And my credit cards are maxed. And while the s.e.x might be pretty great, I don't even know you and so it's not going to happen."

"You're going to die, b.i.t.c.h," came the deadly promise.

And here I'd thought my night couldn't get any worse.

"I 'm going to rip off your head and stuff it down your throat." The deadly voice slid into my ears again and my anxiety eased.

"Nina?" I whirled and found myself facing the tall, svelte blonde who'd been my friend since birth. "Geez, you scared the c.r.a.p out of me."

"Really?" She shook her head. "I mean, yeah, good. You should be scared, because I'm serious. I'm going to tie you to the balcony and leave you to fry."

I realized in a nanosecond that she meant business. Not because of her tone of voice, but because she was wearing sweats and flip-flops and zero makeup.

"I'm going to truss you up, dump you at the nearest church and let your skin fester until you're nothing but an itchy, oozing mess and then I'm going to-"

"Would you stop with the vivid death threats already?" My gaze met hers. "What's wrong? Why are you dressed like that?"

"I'm being inconspicuous. It's Murder 101-never draw attention to yourself. You have to lay low. Fly under the radar. That way, no one will remember you later in a lineup."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're going down, Marchette." She glared. "You ruined my afterlife."

I remembered Mandy's comment about Nina and the cocoa. "My mother coerced you into going to Mandy's. That's what this is about."

"She coerced Rob and I tagged along. This is about next Friday and her Huntress Club meeting."

"You didn't agree to go, did you?"

"I didn't have a choice. She said I was going to be a part of the family and so I had to meet her friends. " Her gaze narrowed and her eyes gleamed a bright, fierce red. "It's all your fault for siccing her on me in the first place. She thinks Rob and I are serious."

"Aren't you?"

"Yes. I mean, no." She shook her head. "I have to break up with him."