Bad Luck Vampire

Book 36: Argeneau Novel

by Lynsay Sands

Genres: Urban Fantasy; Vampires; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

New York Times bestselling author Lynsay Sands returns in this latest chapter of the Argeneau series with an immortal who is having a bit of bad luck while trying to woo his life mate…

Alasdair MacKenzie has never once considered himself unlucky in all the centuries he’s been an immortal rogue enforcer. Not until he meets Sophie. Finding the beautiful, smart, and funny woman who is his life mate is great luck, actually. But meeting her at a wedding full of Argeneaus, not to mention his own busybody uncles determined to “help him claim his woman,” is bad luck. And the fact that Sophie is someone else’s date? Well that’s just the next level of unlucky.

From the way her gaze travels over his body like a caress to the electric zing whenever they innocently touch…he wants her for all eternity! He’ll keep his hands off Sophie until her date is over. After that all bets are off and he’ll pull out all the stops to win her. Great plan—until he gets hit by a car. And then he’s poisoned. Is his luck that bad, or is someone out to stop this immortal from claiming Sophie as his life mate? 

Release date: September 26, 2023

Publisher: HarperCollins

Print pages: 384

Sample

Prologue

“Aren’t you getting a drink with your dinner?”

Sophie turned from the waitress she’d been giving her order to, and peered with confusion at her blind date. “I asked for iced tea.”

“A Long Island iced tea?” Carl suggested.

“No. Just iced tea.”

She started to turn back to the waitress, only to pause when he cajoled, “Oh, come now. You have to have a proper drink. How about a margarita? That’s a girly drink, isn’t it?”

Sophie stiffened at his words. A girly drink? Seriously? Irritation sparked in her, but she pushed it down. “No, I’m good with the iced tea,” she assured him, and turned away to smile at the waitress as she reaffirmed, “A straight iced tea, no alcohol please.”

Carl wasn’t done pushing, though. “Well, if you don’t like margaritas, what about a mai tai, then?”

Sophie frowned at the man. “No.”

“A mojito?”

“No.”

“Oh! Sex on the beach,” he suggested with a grin, and told the waitress, “She’ll have a sex on the beach.”

“She won’t have sex on anything,” Sophie said grimly, losing her patience. Arching one eyebrow, she asked, “Are you a date rapist or something?”

Carl jerked back in his seat, shock on his face. “Why would you ask a thing like that?”

“Because you appear to have trouble accepting no for an answer, and I gather that’s an issue with date rapists too,” she explained sweetly. And then her expression went cold as she said, “I don’t want an alcoholic beverage. I don’t like the taste of alcohol. I want an iced tea.”

Carl relaxed at once, a slimy smile oozing over his face. “Oh, well, no one likes the taste of alcohol, Sophie. That’s not why anyone drinks.”

“Really,” she said dryly. “So, you only drink to get buzzed?”

“Exactly,” he said at once.

“Riiight,” Sophie drew out the word, her eyes narrowing. “So aside from giving off a date rapist vibe, you acknowledge you have a drinking problem. Good to know, and thanks for revealing all of that right away so I don’t have to waste any more time than necessary on this blind date.”

Picking up her purse, Sophie pulled out a twenty as she stood up. She handed the money to the waitress then and offered her a smile. “For your trouble. Please scratch the iced tea and Caesar salad you just wrote down. I won’t be staying. Have a good night.”

Grabbing her coat off the back of her chair, Sophie headed for the exit, more than eager to be done with this nasty-ass blind date.

“Hey!” Carl shouted.

Sophie heard the scrape of a chair pushing back from the table and just knew it was his. Of course Carl couldn’t just let her leave quietly and calmly. No, jerks like him always had to make a scene.

“Hey!” His hand on her arm stopped Sophie as she reached the door.

She turned slowly and peered at the man with dead eyes. “Let go of me.”

“You can’t just walk out like that. We’re on a date.”

“The date is done,” she said firmly, and tugged her arm free to push the door open and slip outside.

“It’s not done. You didn’t even give me a chance,” Carl protested, following her out into the cool night air. “Come back in and finish

the date.”

“No, thank you.” Sophie picked up speed, nearly jogging in her high heels to get away from him. She’d had a long day, and this blind date she’d let her coworker Lise rope her into was the crappy cherry on top of a crap day. She just wanted to go home, kick off her heels, veg on the couch in front of a movie, and forget this day—and specifically this date—had ever happened.

“Come on, stop playing hard to get. I make good money and I’m a good-looking guy. I’m a real catch. I know you want me.”

“Yeah, right,” Sophie muttered with disgust as she cut through the rows of vehicles to get to where her own car was parked in the outer lane of the lot. Her shortcut ended when he grabbed her arm and jerked her around, the action so abrupt she was brought up against his chest. He immediately grabbed her other arm to keep her there when she tried to pull away.

“Come on, sweetheart, you’re not fooling anyone with this ice maiden act,” he assured her, his hands dropping from her arms to her behind to force her groin tight against his. “Let’s—”

Whatever he would have said next ended on a curse as she kneed him in the balls. The moment he released her to grab for his injured testicles, Sophie turned to rush away. She was pissed, but she was also eager to get to the safety of her car before Carl recovered.

She’d made it past the first double row of vehicles when Carl again grabbed her arm and jerked her around. Sophie took in a lungful of air as she spun, fully intending on blasting the asshole for both his persistence and his laying hands on her, but the words died abruptly when she found herself staring at . . . nothing?

Carl was gone.

Sophie peered around the parking lot with bewilderment, rubbing her arm where he’d grabbed her. He had done that, hadn’t he? she suddenly wondered with confusion. Where the hell had he gone? He couldn’t have got back inside the restaurant in the few seconds it had taken her to turn.

Scowling with both irritation and suspicion, she gave the parking lot a much slower perusal, wondering if he’d ducked around the nearest car intending to leap out at her or something. However, a more thorough search, which included dropping to her haunches to look under the cars on either side of her, didn’t reveal any sign of him crouching nearby.

Straightening slowly, Sophie glanced around again, now unsure what to do. The man’s sudden absence was almost supernatural in nature and was giving her the heebie-jeebies.

A short whistle caught her ear and Sophie peered into the darkness. She couldn’t see anything . . . until a flashlight suddenly popped on in the grassy area next to the parking lot.

Not a flashlight, Sophie realized as she took in the two men under a tree. It was a phone flashlight, she noted as her gaze slid over a handsome dark-haired man in all black clothes, and an equally handsome blond who was also dressed all in black. The dark-haired guy was smiling at her cheerfully; the blond, however, had an exasperated look on his face.

“This fellow seemed to be annoying you so I thought I’d better step in,” the cheerful man announced, shifting his phone so that the light splashed over the person at the end of his extended arm.

Sophie’s eyes widened incredulously as she saw that Carl was dangling in the air, kicking and struggling to pull the hand away from his throat and free himself.

The phone’s light shifted back to the other two men now, and the dark-haired man asked, “Was I wrong? Should I let him go?”

“Oh, hell no,” Sophie said at once, and then caught herself and added more calmly, “You were right. He was being a pain.”

“Well, then I shall happily hold on to him until you’re safely away,” her Sir Galahad in black told her with a charming smile.

“Sounds good. Thanks,” Sophie offered with a nod.

“My pleasure,” Sir Galahad said easily, raising his arm again and then scowling and turning to stare at Carl briefly when the dangling man managed to kick him in the side. After a moment of his staring, Carl went still and the stranger turned back to smile at her again.

Sophie found herself grinning in response, then shook her head and turned to start toward her car, saying, “Thanks again.”

“Tybo,” he said.

Sophie stopped and peered toward the three men with confusion. It sounded like some kind of martial art. Was he asking her if she knew any? Or suggesting she should learn it?

“That’s my name,” the man explained with what sounded like amusement. “Tyberius Verde, but everyone calls me Tybo for short.”

“Oh.” Sophie relaxed and nodded. “Hi, Tybo. I’m Sophie Ferguson. Thanks again for your help.”

“My pleasure. Always happy to help a damsel in distress,” he said easily.

Sophie gave him a wave as she quickly walked to her own car. She was at the driver’s door when it occurred to her that while she might be escaping this situation, it probably wouldn’t be the last she’d hear from Carl. He had her phone number. Lise, a coworker at the insurance company where she was employed, had texted it to him when Sophie had finally given in to her harassment and agreed to go on this date. He’d then called to firm up the time and place. Sophie had no doubt she’d hear from the jerk again, if only for him to blast her for leaving

him hanging, literally, and not calling help for him or something. He’d probably try to sue the guy for coming to her aid like this too, and maybe even her, she thought with irritation. He seemed the type.

“If you want, I could erase your phone number from this guy’s phone before I let him go.”

Sophie swung around to see that Tybo and his blond friend had moved parallel to her. She could just make out the faint shadow of Carl outside the light from the phone. He didn’t seem to be struggling anymore. She hoped that didn’t mean he was dead or something. Not that she really cared, except she wouldn’t want this man to get in trouble for trying to help her. He was too pretty to go to jail.

“He’s fine,” Tybo assured her as if she’d spoken the concern aloud. “I won’t hurt him. Just keep him here until you’re safely away.” He paused a beat, and then asked, “So? Should I remove your number from his phone so he doesn’t trouble you again?”

Sophie nodded. “Yeah, that would be good,” she said, and decided she’d call Lise the minute she was out of the parking lot and threaten her with something horrible if she gave him her number again.

“Would you mind . . .”

Sophie had been reaching for the handle of her car door, but stopped and glanced around at that to see Tybo hesitating and looking uncertain. Then he shrugged as if to say what the hell, and offered her another charming smile. “Could I have your number?”

Sophie’s eyebrows shot up at the question. It was the last thing she’d expected.

When she just stood staring at him in surprise, he added, “I’d love to take you for coffee or something to prove that not all guys are jerks like this one.” He gave Carl a shake and her gaze skated to the man he was holding when the light splashed over him again. Carl’s eyes were open and he was grimacing. He was no longer struggling, though, she noted before the light shifted again and Carl disappeared into the darkness.

Sophie returned her gaze to Tybo and his friend. This was the craziest situation she’d ever encountered. The guy was dangling her blind date in the air and asking for her number. They were complete strangers. For all she knew he was a serial killer or something. On the other hand, he had saved her from an awkward and even potentially dangerous situation by dragging Carl away from her. Still, Sophie wasn’t sure it would be smart to accept a date from this guy.

She was about to say no when she noted that the blond was looking at Tybo as if he’d lost his mind. Sophie was self-aware enough to know that was what changed hers. As one of the workers at a group home she’d lived in had put it, she’d always been a “contrary bitch.” Tell her she couldn’t do something, and it was as good as done. The fact that his buddy obviously didn’t think she was good enough for Tybo was enough to convince

her to go out with him.

“Sure. We could do coffee,” she said now. “If my number’s not in his contacts, it’ll be in a message from Lise Cunningham. Give me a call sometime,” she added, and then turned away, opened her car door, and slid in.

 

“Tell the truth . . . you’ve lost your mind.”

“Huh?” Tybo glanced at his partner, Valerian, with confusion at those words, but then just shook his head and looked back to the white Nissan exiting the parking lot. Sophie Ferguson was a pretty little thing. He couldn’t wait to call her. That thought had him lowering Carl so that he could search his pockets for his cell phone as he said, “She thinks you don’t think she’s good enough for me.”

“What?” Valerian said with surprise.

“You were looking at me like I was crazy when I asked for her number,” Tybo explained as he went through Carl’s pockets.

“That had nothing to do with her,” Valerian said at once. “She seems fine.”

“Yeah. I know, but it’s probably the only reason she said yes to going out with me,” Tybo told him as he found and pulled out Carl’s phone. Lowering the other man, he cast Valerian a smile. “Thanks for that.”

Valerian snorted at his words. “I was looking at you like you were crazy, because what you’re doing is crazy. You do remember what happened the last time we went vigilante, don’t you?” Shaking his head, he predicted, “Lucian’s going to be pissed if he finds out about this.”

“No, he won’t,” Tybo said with certainty, and then held out Carl to him. “Hold this asshole while I remove Sophie’s number from his phone.”

Valerian’s mouth twisted with irritation, but he caught Carl by the collar and took over holding him while Tybo quickly went through the phone in search of Sophie’s number. It hadn’t been entered into contacts yet, so all he had to do was erase it from messages and recent calls. After a hesitation, he then snapped the phone in half. The bastard deserved it. Carl’s intentions had not been good. Despite Sophie’s obvious disinterest, he’d decided she was just playing hard to get and if he hadn’t been able to coerce her back into the restaurant to continue their date, he’d intended to follow her to her car, force her into it, and take what he felt he deserved and was sure she was just withholding to tease him. Carl had been positive she’d be glad in the end.

Reading those thoughts from the man’s mind was what had moved Tybo to intervene. The guy was an arrogant asshole who figured if a girl agreed to a date, she was agreeing to sex and he was going to get it one way or another.

Bastard, Tybo thought, dropping the phone on the ground and stomping on it for good measure. It was guys like Carl who made women

leery of the rest of the men in the world.

“Can we let this douchebag go and get back to work now?” Valerian asked when Tybo turned back to him.

Tybo considered Carl with dissatisfaction. A broken phone was hardly much of a punishment for what this guy had intended. Finally, he said, “Let him go.”

Looking relieved, Valerian released the man and then eyed him warily, no doubt expecting Carl to freak on them. Instead, the man turned and began to skip away from them across the parking lot.

“What did you—?” Valerian began, but his question died as Carl kicked off his shoes and began to remove his suit jacket. Once that was off, he tossed it away. Even as it landed on a little Hyundai, Carl was skipping along again, working on the buttons of his shirt. A moment later the dress shirt was flying into the back of a pickup.

“Oh man. We are dead,” Valerian almost moaned as they watched Carl push his pants and underwear down next and then pull his feet out and kick the clothing under a nearby van.

“No, we’re not,” Tybo assured him, grinning evilly as he made Carl pirouette in the middle of the space between the first double row of cars and the door to the restaurant, his junk swinging out from the movement.

A squeal drew his attention to the restaurant to see two women frozen in the open door, gaping at the man dancing naked outside. After a shocked moment, both women backed into the building and the door closed. But they didn’t move away from it. Instead, their gawking faces were visible through the glass of the upper part of the door. When other faces began to join them, as well as several phones suddenly popping up to film, it was obvious they’d reported what was happening outside to the other patrons. Which meant the police would be called.

Smiling with satisfaction, Tybo began to lead Valerian to the SUV where they’d been waiting and watching for the arrival of a suspected rogue.

“He’s still dancing,” Valerian said tightly as he got behind the wheel. Turning on the engine, he asked, “Are you going to release him?”

“Eventually,” Tybo said mildly, his gaze still trained on the man as he controlled him and had him start hopping around like a bunny, his bare butt jutting out and junk flopping with each hop.

“Jesus,” Valerian muttered, and then stiffened and glanced sharply at Tybo as his phone began to ring. Mouth tightening, he growled, “We’re so dead.”

“No, we’re not,” Tybo assured him, and answered, putting the call on speakerphone.

“The cops are on the way. Wait till you hear the sirens and then get out of there,” Lucian barked.

Tybo grinned when Valerian’s eyes widened incredulously at their boss’s words. Told you, he mouthed to him silently.

Valerian scowled in response, but then leaned toward the phone and asked, “What

 about watching for Adamso—”

“He won’t show up with the police here,” Lucian cut in. “The minute he sees the police cars, he’ll turn around and return to his hole. We’ll have to stake out the restaurant again another night. It’s inconvenient and irritating, but you could hardly stand by and let a woman be raped while you watched for Adamson.”

“What?” Valerian asked with disbelief.

“What, what?” Lucian asked mildly.

“Is this the same man who gave us royal hell for rescuing a woman from being kidnapped a couple years ago?” Valerian asked dryly. “I thought for sure you’d be pissed about this.”

“You didn’t get hell for rescuing that woman, you got hell for showing your superhuman strength and speed while doing it and getting caught on camera,” Lucian growled. “This time you played it smart. The bastard will get arrested and charged with public indecency and probably get added to the sexual offender database since the restaurant is across the street from a school. You saved the woman and played it smart while doing it. Good job. Now get out of there. I can hear the sirens. The mortal police are close.”

Lucian ended the call without a goodbye, and Tybo grinned at a flummoxed Valerian as he bragged, “I played it smart.”

A short laugh slid from Valerian at his preening, and he shook his head as he shifted the SUV into gear. “Yeah, yeah. You were right and I was wrong.”

“It happens,” Tybo said with mild amusement, returning his attention to Carl and encouraging him to start doing cartwheels. He then winced as he watched him. There was just something really undignified about a naked man doing cartwheels, his junk swinging around in circles as he did.

“I was sure Lucian would skewer us for this one,” Valerian muttered as he steered the SUV toward the exit.

“And yet you didn’t try to stop me when I intervened, and didn’t protest much even after Sophie was gone,” Tybo pointed out, twisting his head to continue to control Carl as their vehicle carried them out of the parking lot even as two police cars pulled in.

“The guy planned to force her,” Valerian said tightly. “Of course I didn’t try to stop you.” Grimacing, he admitted, “I was willing to take the shit for intervening. I just wasn’t happy anticipating how much shit we’d be in.”

Tybo chuckled at his words and finally released Carl as the police cars squealed to a halt in front of the naked man, their headlights spotlighting him as he came out of his last cartwheel and did another pirouette before stopping and shaking his head like a wet dog. Tybo didn’t watch to see what would happen next. He was already getting a crick in his neck from twisting

his head around. Besides, his job was done. The guy was in deep doo-doo no matter what he did now.

“So, are you really going to call Sophie?” Valerian asked a moment later.

Tybo smiled and glanced down at the phone in his lap. He’d texted himself Sophie’s number before erasing every sign of her from Carl’s phone. A quick check now showed that the text had gone through and he did have her number.

“Well? Are you?” Valerian asked when Tybo was slow to respond.

“Sure,” he said finally, slipping his phone into his pocket. “She’s a cute little thing. I’m thinking she’d make a great date for your wedding.”

“Yeah?” Valerian glanced over to give him a quick smile before turning his attention back to the road and asking, “But you were able to read her, right?”

“Yeah,” Tybo said sadly. Like the mythical vampires that most mortals would think of them as, immortals—which was what his kind preferred to be called—could read and control the minds of mortals, as well as other immortals younger than themselves. Except for possible life mates. In fact, not being able to read someone was a sure sign of a possible life mate, which is why most immortals read, or attempted to read, every new person they encountered. Life mates were precious. They made living such long lives bearable.

“Sorry. She seems nice,” Valerian murmured.

“Yeah.” Tybo sighed. He supposed it was foolish to be so disappointed that he had been able to read her. After all, he’d only been born in 1920. That made him young for an immortal, and his kind didn’t usually find their life mates until much later in life. That didn’t mean he couldn’t hope, though, or suffer disappointment when he encountered someone he liked but could read.

Pushing his disappointment down, he said, “Oh well, it’s fine. I’m young. Dating is a thing and she’s a nice gal. She’ll be a fun date for your wedding.”

 

One

“Packing up already?”

Sophie glanced up from the bag she was tucking her computer into and noted the confusion and concern on Megan’s face as she entered her office.

“Yes. I’m leaving early today,” Sophie said as she zipped up her computer bag.

“You? Leaving early on a Thursday afternoon?” Megan asked with amazement, and then a worried frown took over her expression and she asked, “Why? You’re not sick, are you?”

“No, I’m not sick,” Sophie assured her, understanding her concern. Sophie never left work early unless she was deathly ill. Well, actually, she’d only ever left early once and then it had been on a stretcher, headed for an ambulance and the hospital. Appendicitis. She’d been suffering pain in her lower stomach most of the day, but then she’d started vomiting and had managed to stumble and hit her head against the bathroom’s tiled wall. Megan had found her lying on the floor, still heaving and her head bleeding, and had immediately called 911. It turned out hitting her head had been a lucky break. If Megan hadn’t called 911, Sophie very well might have gone home thinking she just had the flu or something, and her appendix could have ruptured, which was extremely dangerous. At least that’s what the doctor had told her after the emergency surgery.

“So, why leave early?” Lise asked, poking her head into the office. “A hot date?”

Sophie scowled at the woman who had set her up with the horrid Carl of the rapey/alcoholic vibe. Something she still hadn’t forgiven her for. Seriously. The guy had apparently gone streaking around the parking lot after she’d left, flashing his bits for everyone to see. Sophie had read about it in the paper the next day and then seen the video online. Several videos actually. He’d gone viral. Sophie had figured out pretty quick that he was a dirtbag, but this was just beyond, which had made her even angrier at Lise. How the hell had her coworker ever thought Carl would be a good match for her?

“It’s not a hot date,” she told her with irritation, and then deciding to ignore the other woman, turned her focus back to Megan and reluctantly admitted, “More like a favor date.”

Megan’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? You are leaving early, on Thursday, for a date?”

“I had no say in the day or time, Megs,” Sophie said with amusement. “It’s a wedding.”

“Who gets married on a Thursday?” Megan asked at once, looking outraged at the very idea.

Before Sophie could answer, Bobby—Megan’s brother and also a coworker—slipped past Lise to enter the office and asked, “Is it a family member?”

“Family?” Sophie echoed with amusement. “Why? You getting married?”

“Oh, hell no,” Bobby said at once, his eyes widening with horror. “Elizabeth and I just started dating. Besides, I’m like you, planning to stay single forever.”

“Well, then, since you, Megan, and Mama and Papa are the only family I have, I guess it can’t be family who’s getting married, can it?” Sophie asked with an affectionate smile for the man who had been like a brother to her since his parents had taken her in as a foster child in her early teens.

“Ahhh. That’s so sweet, and we love you too,” Megan said, smiling with affection, and then abruptly asked, “So, whose wedding is it?”

Sophie sighed with resignation. She’d known this would happen if they found out. It was why she’d hoped to sneak out unnoticed. She should have known better. Everyone in what had become

 her family worked in this branch of the insurance company, except for her foster mother, Deb. Her foster father, George, owned and ran it and she had started working here after finishing university, just like her foster siblings, Megan and Bobby, had. And just like most siblings, she’d known they’d be all up in her business if she didn’t slip out unnoticed.

Knowing she wouldn’t get out of the building without telling all, she cast a glare at Lise, one of the few nonfamily workers here, and said, “Well, you all remember that awful date I had last weekend?”

“I said I was sorry,” Lise said with exasperation. “Carl seemed like a nice guy. How was I to know he’d turn out to be a perv?”

Before Sophie could respond, Megan exclaimed with horror, “Ohmygawd! You are not going to a wedding with that pervy Carl that Lise set you up with, are you?” She then straightened her shoulders and said firmly, “As your older sister I forbid it.”

“You’re only a month older, Megs,” Sophie pointed out with amusement. She didn’t, however, add that technically they weren’t really sisters either, mostly because as far as she was concerned, they were. The Tomlinsons were the only family she had. She’d considered them family almost from the moment they’d taken her in to foster when she was fourteen and she knew they felt the same. Instead, she said, “It’s okay. I’m not going out with Carl. My date is Tybo. The guy who helped me out.”

“You mean the hero who picked up Pervy Carl by the throat with one hand?” Bobby asked with interest.

“Yeah. Him.” Sophie nodded.

Rather than soothe Megan, ...