Constantine assumed an angelic look, easily done with his blond curls and big blue eyes. “I was just wondering if you do like Uncle Angus. I heard he doesn’t wear any underwear. So I dared Bethany to look under your kilt.”
Robby took another swig from his bottle. “First, ye shouldna be frightening the young lassies. Ye could end up old and alone.”
Tino’s mouth dropped open. “I–I don’t. I was just teasing Bethany. Really.”
Robby nodded. “Ye’re a good lad. And I know what to get you for Christmas now.”
Tino grinned and bounced, causing his shoes to jingle. “What? What will you get me?”
“A kilt.”
A look of horror flashed over the boy’s face before his training in etiquette kicked in. He attempted a wobbly smile. “Thank you, Robby.” He ran away, his shoes jangling. “Mom, Mom!” He dashed around, looking for his mother.
Robby guzzled down the last of the Blissky. A comforting warmth spread through his chest and fizzled up to his brain. He stuffed a new bottle into the microwave just as Tino located his mother. With his superior hearing, Robby caught the conversation.
“Tino, what’s wrong?” Shanna leaned over her son.
“If Robby gives me a kilt, do I have to wear it?”
Shanna grinned. “I think you would look adorable in a kilt.”
“Agh!” Tino scurried back to Howard to tell him the terrible news.
Robby sighed as he removed the bottle from the microwave. He was certainly doing his share of spreading Christmas cheer. He saluted the dripping reindeer sculpture and took a long drink.
“Is it true, Robby?” a female voice asked behind him.
He spun around and saw double for a moment. Two Shanna Draganestis wearing matching red gowns. “Och, Shanna. A lovely party, as always.” He bowed and watched her four feet transform into two.
“I heard some disturbing news,” she said, thankfully with one voice. “I hope I can change your mind.”
He straightened, and the room swirled around him. “I willna buy the lad a kilt if it fashes him.”
“Not about that.” Shanna waved a hand. “I heard you took your name off the Secret Santa list. You don’t intend to deliver presents this Christmas eve?”
“I’m no’ feeling verra celebratory this year.”
“That’s exactly why you should do it,” she insisted. “It’ll make you feel better.”
He groaned. Why did every woman want to fix him? Correction, every woman except the one he wanted. He guzzled down more Blissky.
Shanna planted her hands on her hips. “Getting drunk is not going to solve your problems.”
“Aye, but ’twill make me no’ give a damn.” He upended the bottle and finished it.
“Robby, please, you need to see a therapist. Emma and I were discussing it last night, and you’re clearly—”
“No’ another therapist. The last one nearly killed me.”
Shanna’s eyes widened. “You saw a therapist? When? Where?”
“On Patmos. But she ran away.” He yanked a third bottle from the tub of ice.
“Aye.”
Shanna gasped. “Then it’s true.”
He stiffened. “I’m no’ crazy. I never was.”
“No, I mean Carlos was right. He told us you were lovesick, but we didn’t think you’d met anyone…”
“That damned Carlos,” Robby muttered. “I told him to keep his trap shut.”
“Well, who is she?” Shanna asked.
“A Greek goddess.” He gestured dramatically with his bottle. “To know her is to worship her. To love her is to spout bad poetry till the end of time.”
Shanna’s mouth twitched. “That sounds very promising.”
“Nay.” He pressed the bottle against his chest. “She’s no’ interested in me.”
“Oh dear,” Shanna murmured.
“Oh bloody fucking hell,” he corrected her.
She winced. “Try not to pass out under the table. It might scare the children.”
“As ye wish, madam.” He unscrewed the bottle and drank the Blissky cold.
“Oh, look.” Shanna’s face brightened. “Darcy and Austin have arrived. Did you hear their good news?”
“Nay, but I have a terrible feeling I will—”
“You know how Darcy’s eggs all died when she was a vampire?”
“I wasna personally acquainted with her eggs.”
Shanna snorted. “She borrowed some eggs from her sister, and Roman used Austin’s sperm to fertilize them. And it worked! They’re pregnant!”
Robby slanted a bleary look at Austin. “He doesna look verra pregnant.” When Shanna slapped his shoulder, he stumbled to the side.
She shook her head disapprovingly. “At least you know about Jean-Luc and Heather, don’t you?”
“Nay. I was shuffled off to a remote island for four months. I believe that’s what mortals do with their unwanted Christmas fruitcakes.”
“We all came to visit you,” Shanna protested. “Anyway, when Jean-Luc and Heather came back from Patmos, they told Roman they wanted to have children. So he did his little magic trick, and it worked!”
“Och, that’s good.” Robby was truly happy for Jean-Luc. Roman had found a way to use live human sperm, but erase the donor’s DNA and replace it with a Vamp’s. Thanks to Roman’s procedure, Jean-Luc’s child would actually be his. Just like Constantine and Sofia were really Roman’s children. They weren’t quite human, though.
Maybe it was just as well that Olivia hadn’t called. He doubted she’d want to marry a vampire and give birth to half-vampire children.
“Well, guess what?” Shanna’s excited voice interrupted his thoughts. “They’re going to have twins! Isn’t that exciting!”
Robby nodded. “Aye. I can barely contain myself.”
She gave him a wry look. “You should try to be happy for your friends.”
“I am. I’m delighted that everyone but me is happily married and multiplying like bloody rabbits.”
“Not everyone here is married. Lady Pamela and Cora Lee are over there at the Chocolood table. They’d probably love for someone to ask them to dance.”
“No thanks.” They weren’t Olivia.
“How about the famous models, Simone and Inga?” Shanna motioned toward the Blood Lite table. “You know them, don’t you, from your days in Paris?”
“Aye. That’s the problem. I know them. If vanity and shallowness were virtues, they’d be named saints.”
Shanna grinned as she peered around the room.
“Ye doona need to play matchmaker,” Robby told her. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” She gave him a dubious look.
“Aye. Go on. Enjoy yer party.”
Shanna patted him on the shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Robby.” She headed in the direction of her children.
From what Robby could hear, Constantine was getting a lecture from Angus on the benefits of wearing a kilt, while Roman listened with an amused expression. Shanna drew Emma aside to whisper to her.
Bugger. Maybe the Blissky hadn’t been such a great idea after all. It had loosened his mouth too much. Now everyone would know about his sad love life.
He turned to look at the dance floor. The band was playing a slow tune, and couples were swaying with their arms around each other. Bloody hell. Would the night never end? He took a long swig of Blissky.
“Robby, my lad.” Angus strode up to him and slapped him on the back.
He stumbled forward and caught himself on the table. He looked to his left and saw Emma eyeing him with a frown. He looked to his right and found Angus scowling at him. He checked the left again, but the room swirled, so he widened his stance to keep from swaying. Emma’s frown deepened.
He sighed. “Och, to what do I owe the pleasure of yer cheerful companionship?”
Emma yanked the Blissky bottle out of his hand. “Shanna told me you were getting drunk.”
“She’s wrong,” Robby said. “I’m already drunk. I’m feeling a verra nice buzz right here.” He attempted to tap his temple with a finger, but missed and hit himself on the nose. “I’m no’ on duty tonight, so it shouldna fash you.”
Angus’s scowl softened. “I’m no’ vexed with you. I’m worried about you.”
Emma touched his shoulder. “Do you need to talk about it?”
“Nay.”
“What’s her name?” Emma pressed.
“What’s the latest news on Casimir?” Robby asked, attempting to change the topic.
Angus took the bait. “We have a lead that he’s hiding in Bulgaria. Zoltan and Mikhail are checking it out.”
“Why is it taking so long?” Robby asked. “Casimir and his followers like to kill after feeding. Ye should be able to track them down by following the trail of dead bodies.”
“Aye, normally that would work,” Angus agreed. “But apparently he’s hiding alone right now. He doesna trust anyone. And we believe he’s cut back on the killing in order to stay hidden.”
“Must be hard on the bastard,” Robby muttered.
“Right now, we’re more concerned about you, lad,” Angus said.
“Is there anything we can do?” Emma asked.
“Ye can give me the bottle back.” Robby reached for it.
Emma plunked it on the table. “What’s her name?”
“Olivia.” Robby grabbed the bottle. He started to drink, but set the bottle down. The thrill was gone, and the pain was still there. “I’ll be all right. Go, dance, have fun.”
