Ginny was in her room preparing for the night shift downstairs when Larissa stumbled into her doorway. The former queen of the Coney Island Mermaid Parade was one of the most beautiful women Ginny had ever seen, even in a dressing gown and a head of curlers.
Every year, Ginny and her father had gone to watch the floats and revelers go past, always standing in their same spot outside the Famiglia snackbar. That afternoon in 2015, he’d gone silent as Larissa passed by in the sunshine, completing her pageant wave and dazzling crowds with a movie star smile, which she’d seemed to aim directly at him.
When the parade ended, Ginny’s father had found Larissa and asked to take her out for pierogis, an event that had shocked Ginny, considering her father spent his days trying to blend in with the wood paneling that lined their viewing rooms. Still, Larissa had said yes and a week later, she’d moved into the P. Lynn Funeral Home and never left.
“What time is it?” Larissa cried now, wiping at her smeared mascara.
Ginny checked the clock on here bedside table, noticing Roksana was nowhere to be seen. Where had she hidden herself? “It’s 6:49.”
“I’ve slept through my entire shift!” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “And I had the strangest dream. A woman was in my room and…” She cupped the air over her breasts. “She had on a leather bustier with studs.”
Ginny had checked on Larissa several times throughout the day and she hadn’t stirred once, even when Ginny laid a cold compress on the unfortunate lump at her temple. The smell of alcohol on her breath hinted at the possibility Larissa would have slept through her shift even if Roksana hadn’t conked her on the head. “That was a crazy dream,” Ginny said. “After all, it’s much too brisk outside for a bustier.”
“There was a time when I’d have worn one in a snowstorm—and did,” Larissa said wistfully. “Did I miss anything while I was sleeping? Any new arrivals?”
“Not today.”
Her stepmother stared off into the distance. “Here I am, hoping people die so we can keep the lights on. It’s ghastly.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Have you given any more thought to selling the business at a lower price?”
Ginny felt a stab of guilt. There was part of her that wanted to put her father’s legacy on the market and take far less than he’d paid for it—thank you, Q train. Just so Larissa would be free. But every time the real estate agent called to ask if they’d consider relisting the home at a lower price, Ginny balked. These walls were the only witnesses besides her to the memories she’d made with her father. If she sold the home and moved, she’d be the only one with those memories. With every change in her life, they faded a little more, like continually washed black jeans.
Also. Was it wrong of her to enjoy her job?
She took responsibility and pride in caring for the dearly departed. Any lingering eeriness she’d experienced as a child learning at her father’s side had long since passed. Now the deceased were just people who’d lived, loved, cried, laughed, spilled sodas, rode roller coasters, told jokes, got mosquito bites. They were to be handled with love, and she wasn’t confident in many of her abilities, but no one could treat them with more respect or do a better job. This was her profession and she wanted to keep it.
Unfortunately, that meant Larissa was good and trapped. Unless Ginny could buy out her half of the business—and that wasn’t happening any time soon.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t thought more about selling,” Ginny finally responded. “This place is really all I know—”
“But you could change that! Maybe get out of Coney Island and start somewhere fresh?”
“I don’t know,” Ginny hedged, not wanting to give an outright no to a friendly suggestion. “If the job is wearing you out, Larissa, maybe you’d like to take some time off? Clear your head—”
“No, no. No. It’s fine. I’ll be on time tomorrow.” She clutched the sides of her robe, bunching the material at the hollow of her neck. “Besides, who would I visit? My parents in Florida? Those retirees in their complex scatter when they see me coming now. They think I’ve brought death along in my suitcase.” She was getting worked up. “I don’t know how you’ve done this your whole life.”
Ginny shrugged and reached for the pearl earrings on her dresser, putting them on without looking in the mirror. “It’s all I know,” she said simply, a pang catching her in the sternum. “People don’t want to need us. No one’s ever ready. But deep down, they’re comforted knowing we’re here.”
“You sound like your father.”
“Thank you.”
Larissa’s smile was tight. “Well. Since I already missed my shift, might as well rest up for the next one.” Her stepmother yawned loudly and turned, stretching her arms above her head as she padded down the hallway. “Please give some more thought to unloading this place. The greater good and all that. G’night.”
A second later, Ginny heard Larissa’s door close, followed by the distinct sound of a bottle cap being twisted off and liquor filling a glass. Ginny idled for a while in the dark corridor, considering her stepmother’s repeated requests. Was she being selfish keeping P. Lynn up and running? This was her home. The only one she’d ever known. Where would she go without it? What would she do?
The barest scraping sound turned Ginny around with a gasp.
Jonas stood just inside her window.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jonas looked different tonight.
And night had fallen while she’d been speaking to Larissa, but the sun must have only just gone down. Had he been waiting for the moment it sank behind the horizon to come see her?
Don’t be ridiculous.
Ginny’s palms grew damp at the sight of him and she tried to be inconspicuous about wiping them on the hips of her blush-colored A-line dress. His unreadable eyes tracked the motion, however, so she stopped and dropped her hands, no idea what to do with them.
Last time she’d seen Jonas, he’d been in jeans and a wrinkled T-shirt. While he’d looked handsome in the clothes, they’d seemed out of place on his robust blacksmith body. They’d almost seemed too modern on a man whose energy reminded her of the Golden Era films she watched. Movies that celebrated a time when men kissed women like they meant it and a glance across the room could speak volumes. Or spark a love affair.
If only she was in a silk robe, brushing her hair and looking glamorous when the vampire climbed in her window. She’d give him a cool glance over her shoulder à la Grace Kelly and tell him to come back when he’d brought flowers.
You are not Grace Kelly.
Right.
Ginny trundled back to reality.
No, jeans and a shirt scrawled with Sharpie didn’t do Jonas an ounce of justice, maybe nothing would, but the gray wool pants and black button-down shirt he wore…they were definitely a fantastic start. Here was the prince Roksana had spoken about. A royal decree would roll right off his tongue.
Jonas’s hands were in fists at his sides. “Hello, Ginny.”
The way he said Ginny reminded her of the lowest note on a piano and made her toes curl into the rug. “Hello,” she managed.
He gave a slow headshake. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“Yes.” His jaw flexed. “Roksana, would you please come out from under the bed? I’d like a report before you go.”
“Oh, I simply live to do your bidding, bloodsucker,” she said with a snort, rolling out from under her apparent hiding place, before hopping to her feet and sending Jonas a mocking salute. “It’s the stepmother who threatens her life.”
“What?” Ginny frowned, still absorbing the fact that Roksana had been hiding under her bed for the last twenty minutes. “What about my stepmother?”
Roksana ignored her, pacing in front of Jonas—who still watched Ginny like a hawk. “Stepmother wants to sell this place, Ginny does not. Perhaps she plans to murder Ginny, sell this heap and take the full profit for herself. It’s a tale as old as time. Family, greed, yada yada yada.”
“No,” she breathed. “No, Larissa wouldn’t do that. If she were planning to kill me, why would she bother asking me to sell? Why not just act? And anyway, she doesn’t have the body strength to…”
“To what?” Jonas prompted, eyes narrowing.
Knowing she couldn’t give away too much or she’d risk having her memory wiped, she zipped her lips. “Never mind.”
A good ten seconds ticked by. “Just so I understand, whoever is threatening you has considerable body strength. You are aware of this because they’ve used it against you? Is that what you’re telling me, Ginny?”
“No. I’m not telling you. On purpose.”
Jonas made a sound in his throat. “You’ll have my protection regardless—”
“Regardless of whether or not you fiddle with my head? That’s a huge regardless.” She crossed her arms over her middle and asked what she really wanted to know. A question had been prodding her all day long. “Jonas. Why are you so determined to protect me?”
His cool mask remained in place. “Maybe I’m not telling you. On purpose.”
Ginny gasped over having her words thrown back in her face.
Jonas raised an eyebrow, as if to say, your move.
Roksana split a look between them and cackled. “Watching you two is better than pretending to be a lost virgin to bait vampires.”
“No way that works,” Jonas commented, sparing Roksana a brief glance before gluing his attention back on me. “You’re free to go, Roks. Please be back before sunrise to relieve me.”
“Dasvidaniya.” Roksana threw a leg out through the open window and vanished from sight. Gone. Just like that.
Leaving her and Jonas alone.
“I really don’t need round-the-clock bodyguard service,” she said into the charged stillness. “I must be keeping you from something important.”