Page 86 of Bad Luck Vampire

“None of you could read or control him,” she said.

“Nay.” He glanced down at the scene below. “We should ha’e been quicker to give up and go after him.”

Sophie stared at him silently, and then said, “I would have thought Alasdair could have reached him. He moved so quickly I could barely see him when he chased after George.”

Ludan turned back and eyed her briefly, then nodded. “Mayhap we older, slower men got in his way.”

Sophie snorted at that suggestion. She suspected that none of these men were slow. She also suspected that the uncles had let George jump and had hampered Alasdair to ensure George succeeded.

“It works out best this way fer everyone, lass,” Ludan said solemnly. “He made his choice, and his family’ll ne’er ken what kind o’ man he really was.”

“But the families of all the people he killed will never know what really happened either,” she pointed out.

“Are ye happier kenning yer parents were slaughtered? Or was it easier thinking the fire was jest an accident?” he asked.

Sophie released a slow breath and nodded in understanding. Andrew’s death was considered an unfortunate accident, as was Beverly’s, and while John’s family knew it was a hit and run, they believed it was an accident, a drunk who unintentionally killed their son. The same was true of Derek. Just an unfortunate accident that had taken his life. They would not feel better knowing it had been deliberate murder. That the men had been stalked and taken down by a madman. She didn’t think so anyway. She didn’t feel better knowing it.

Giving Ludan a nod, Sophie headed back into her apartment. She wasn’t surprised when the men all followed. She wasn’t sure, since nothing had been said about it, but suspected the sun wasn’t good for them.

Kind of like vampires, she thought dryly.

“Yer a sassy wench,” Connor said suddenly with amusement.

“And yer a rude old bastard fer listenin’ to me thoughts,” Sophie shot back, mimicking his accent.

Her words made the uncles all laugh, which brought a hint of a smile to her own lips.

Shaking her head at herself, Sophie stopped between the dining room and living room, debating what to do. She wasn’t hungry anymore. Actually, she was mostly just tired, but doubted she’d get any sleep. As soon as Megan, Bobby, and their mother got the news that George had died in front of her apartment, they’d have questions for her.

A shower, she thought. That should wake her up enough to face what was coming.

The hiss of the blinds being closed drew her head around and she saw that Inan was closing them while the other men took up their spots on the floor again, huddling into their plaids.

“We’re jest catchin’ a nap ere the trouble comes knockin’,” Inan explained. “You go on and take yer shower. We’ll tell Alasdair where ye are when he comes back from chasin’ his brother to give him the keys. Colle was already out of the apartment when Alasdair got inside,” he added when she stared at him blankly.

“Oh.” Nodding, Sophie headed for her room.

She took a long shower, half hoping Alasdair would join her and help her forget her life for a bit. But he hadn’t shown up before her skin started to prune, so Sophie gave up and turned off the water. Stepping out, she pulled a towel off the rack and quickly dried her hair and body, then wrapped the towel around herself, toga style, and went out into her bedroom.

Much to her disappointment, Alasdair wasn’t there either, so she fetched panties and a bra from her dresser. Closing the drawer, she turned, then stood still for a minute before simply walking over to sit on the end of the bed.

She just didn’t have the energy to dress. Her mind and energy were taken up with fretting over Megan, Bobby, and Mrs. Tomlinson. Sophie knew they would be terribly upset. They’d want to talk about George, about how wonderful they thought he’d been, and how their life would be less without him in it. She just didn’t know how she would handle it. Or if she’d even be able to pretend she was grieving his passing.

The sound of the door opening drew her from her thoughts, and Sophie glanced up to see Alasdair entering.

“I talked to my uncles and they’re going to handle your family,” he said quietly.

Sophie blinked at this news. “How?”

“They’re going to come up with an explanation for his presence here, and put it into their minds that they talked to you to hear this story,” he explained wearily, crossing the room to sit down next to her. “They’ll give them a memory of you being as grief-stricken as they are, and then they’ll ease their grief for them and send them home to handle the arrangements.”

“They can do all that?” Sophie asked with surprise.

“They can,” he assured her.

“Oh,” she breathed, nearly giddy with relief. She’d been so worried about how to handle them. Now she didn’t have to. Thank God.

“Sophie?” he asked suddenly.

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