A/N: I tried not to leave you hanging too long before posting this. If you like it, please let me know!

This is the eleventh story in my post-"Sonata" series, so after taking a little peek at this one, if you like what you see, you might want to click on my name and go back to the first story "Behind Closed Doors," so you'll know what the heck is going on!

Chapter 1

MICK

It had been two weeks since we'd gotten back to LA, and I hadn't seen Josef since. Hadn't heard a word, either. No wake up calls just to bug me or run some crazy scheme by me, or ask me some trivial question about a band or a movie or a mutual friend. It was too quiet from his end, and it was scaring the hell out of me.

I understood how he might want to be alone to lick his wounds, that being around me might remind him of our recent road trip, but images of Josef staking himself or purposefully dehydrating in the sun sent me driving to his house on day fourteen. It was ten o'clock at night and I'd just finished the final paperwork on a case I'd put to bed. Beth was working on a murder case of her own, and being at loose ends was playing havoc with my imagination. I missed my friend, and I was deathly afraid he needed my help but was afraid to ask for it. I'd warned him against hanging around me like a whipped puppy after Simone left him, and he clearly had taken it to heart.

When I drove through the gates of his house in the hills, the circle drive and the straightaway in front of his house were packed with cars. I couldn't find a place to park, so I pulled up on the grass. Josef was obviously having a huge party, and hadn't even bothered to invite me, so I was having a hard time caring about leaving ruts in his lawn. I don't know why I'd bothered worrying about the idiot.

I banged on the door, wondering if I would even be heard over the pounding bass of the hip-hop crap he was playing, but fortunately his butler was a vampire, and was able to hear my angry knocking. Niles was very British, an island of calm within a sea of rowdy…women? As he let me inside I realized that there must be at least fifty women packed into his house like half-naked sardines. They were of every shape, size, and color, both human and vampire, each and every one a model of feminine beauty. Or maybe they were just models.

"What the hell is going on here?" I asked Niles, glad to be heard without yelling over the music.

"Just another party, sir. It has been happening quite frequently since his return from New York." He looked around, sniffing at the hedonistic display. "I much prefer this over the orgy of a few days ago, I must say. Just when I'd finally gotten the carpet cleaned after Miss Simone's mishap…"

"An orgy?" I was so far beyond incredulous that I was surprised I'd gotten the word out. "Where is he?" I demanded.

"Out by the pool, sir."

"Thanks, Niles. And would you shut off that god-awful music?"

"I don't think Mr. Kostan—"

"Just do it. I'll take full responsibility."

"Very well sir."

I tried to be gentle as I pushed my way through the crowd, ignoring the groping hands that somehow managed to slip beneath my shirt or fondle my ass in passing. It was totally degrading, it really was. I made it to the glass doors that were wide open to allow easy passage in and out of the enclosed patio. I was able to pick up Josef's scent above all the estrogen, which might have been the only way to find him since he was totally surrounded by his beautiful guests.

Josef was holding court in his swimming trunks on a lounge chair near the pool, making the girls laugh with his witty remarks, while several jostled for the chance to present him with their wrist so that he might favor them with a bite. Two girls were taking turns drinking tequila from his navel, and they would giggle when he shivered and moaned after each shot.

When the music suddenly stopped, there was much yelling and protesting, but at least now my shrill, two-fingered whistle could be heard. "Sorry, Ladies. Party's over. Try to leave in an orderly fashion so no one gets trampled."

When no one moved right away, I vamped out and showed my fangs, giving a little growl of encouragement. That got them moving. Josef waved or called goodbye to his playmates, appearing neither angry nor surprised that I was here taking over. I could hear Niles politely ushering the ladies on out the front door.

"So, how's my favorite party pooper?" He asked when we were finally alone. "Sorry you weren't invited. I figured you wouldn't come anyway, as a sign of respect to Beth and all." He grabbed the abandoned bottle of tequila, and took a long swig right from the bottle.

"Josef, what the hell is up with you? You're having wild parties and orgies now? Trying to be Hugh Hefner is not going to bring Simone back any faster."

"Well, it certainly passes the time." I looked at him critically, noting how tired he looked, how gaunt and spiritually empty he seemed. This was the Josef of the 1970's and 80's, when the Hugh Hefner comparison hadn't been too far off. Of course, I admit I had been a willing participant back then, estranged at the time from Coraline, throwing myself into the blood, sex and booze to try to get her out of my system. But then I'd saved Beth from Coraline's failed attempt to start a family, and my life changed forever. When Simone had entered his world, I'd thought Josef had changed too.

"Why haven't you returned my calls?" I asked him.

"I've been busy."

I looked around the perimeter of the pool, at the wet towels, empty wine glasses, beer bottles, and overturned lounge chairs. Someone's purple bikini top floated in the middle of the pool.

"Yeah, I can see that."

"If you've come here to criticize, you can just hop in your 50's mobile and go home to Beth. Idon't need a mother." Then he laughed at the irony of that statement. Simone, apparently, still needed her own mother—hence the reemergence of Playboy Josef.

Before I could reply, however, he got up and dove into the pool, swimming down to the bottom of the deep end, where he rested like a sleeping shark. I waited five minutes for him to surface, but he stubbornly stayed where he was, which, as a vampire, he could do indefinitely. I sighed in frustration.

"You can't hide forever, Josef," I called, knowing full well his vampire hearing picked up every word.

"Watch me," came his watery reply from ten feet below. Another five minutes, and I was done. I strode back into the house, kicking aside misplaced furniture and more empty bottles. Niles had begun in earnest with the cleanup, but refused my offer of help.

"Keep an eye on him for me, will ya? Call me if he gets into any serious trouble."

"Certainly, sir." He hesitated a minute, then said: "I don't mean to overstep, but have you had any word from Miss Simone? I'm sure if she were to return, all would be well."

"That is the hope, Niles, but no, I haven't heard from her."

He just shook his head in consternation and bid me a good evening.

I left the house, comforted for the moment that at least I wouldn't have to search the desert for his rotting corpse.

BETH

It seemed like I'd just closed my eyes when a sharp pounding jolted me awake. I bolted upright in bed, reaching blindly for my pepper spray . I waited a minute, heart racing, until the knock came again. I grabbed my robe and moved through my darkened apartment to the door. I peeked through the peephole into the dimly lit hallway, and was surprised to see Josef Kostan, his arm raised to knock again. My immediate reaction was abject fear that something had happened to Mick and Josef was here to give me the bad news.

I switched on a light and unlocked the deadbolt, grabbing the doorknob before he could wake the neighbors with another loud salvo on my door. Taken off guard, he nearly fell forward, and I caught him, almost falling myself under his weight. I was immediately assaulted with the noxious fumes of tequila. I managed to stand him upright, and he regarded me with a lopsided grin and glazed over eyes. He was wearing a suit—Armani, if I had to guess- but his tie was askew and one end hung considerably lower than the other. His hair was wet and even spikier than usual, and he was wearing two very expensive but very different shoes. Josef Kostan was drunk off his ass.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him inside amidst his half-hearted apologies about the lateness of the hour, and propelled him awkwardly to the couch. He fell heavily into it and looked up at me thankfully.

"Thanks, Blondie. I wasn't sure I was gonna make it."

"Is Mick okay?"

"Mick? Sure, he was just playing bouncer at my place, the old duddy fuddy. Uh…fuddy duddy."

I wasn't even going to try to decipher that crazy statement.

"You didn't drive in this condition, did you?" I asked worriedly, rushing to my window to look out on the street. I was relieved to see his limo parked at the curb, his driver enjoying a smoke as he waited.

"No, but a crash wouldn't have killed me. Would have hurt the Ferrari though."

"Kind of you to take into consideration all the other drivers on the road," I said dryly. "What are you doing here at—" I looked at the wall clock and blanched in annoyance—"one o'clock in the morning?"

"Sorry," he slurred, "I just wanted to know if you'd heard from Simone." I regarded him a moment with pity. She really must be doing a number on him for always-in-control Josef Kostan to make a drunken pilgrimage for information on his absent fiancé.

"Yes, she called yesterday. She's still in New York, trying to work things out."

"Well, she needs to be here, working things out with me," he said angrily. I silently agreed, but I was torn between loyalty to my friend and compassion for Josef.

"She'll come around eventually, you'll see." I got up and went to the refrigerator. "Let me get you some blood, Josef. I keep some here for Mick, and I bet it would do you some good right now."

"Awww…Mick. That lucky bastard. You wouldn't leave him for your mother, would you?"

I found a bottle of the Red Cross's best, and brought it over to my drunken guest.

"No, but my parents are both dead. They died in a car accident about ten years ago. Drunk driver," I said meaningfully. He brought the bottle to his mouth and took a long draught, then looked blearily at the label. It was obviously not the type he preferred, given the sour expression on his face.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Beth. My parents are dead too."

"No kidding," I said, regarding the four-hundred-year-old vampire before me.

"But that's just my point," he continued, "you know a good thing when you've got it. You're loyal, you're beautiful, and have the nicest, sweetest, most shapely ass…" At my shocked expression, he practically giggled and took another swig from the bottle. "Oops! Did I say that out loud?"

"Okay, Prince Charming, time for you to go home. Where's your cell so you can call your driver up here?"

"You're kicking me out? So soon?" He was comically offended.

"Look, some of us have to go to work in the morning. Now hand it over." When he made no move to find his phone, I knelt down before him and began rooting through first his jacket pockets, then, reluctantly, his pants pockets. I tried to ignore his burgeoning erection as I continued my treasure hunt, attributing it to his inebriated state. I did finally find his phone-in his back pocket. I had to hoist him up a little to get to it.

"Bingo!" he said as I brought it out and handed it to him.

"Okay, now call."

"I can get back down there myself—" He tried to stand up, wobbled, then sat heavily back down.

"Call!"

He fumbled around with it a minute, squinting at the touch screen before finding the right icon to push.

"Hey Max. Come up here and get me. The lady is throwing me out. I'm in apartment—" He looked at me helplessly, trying to remember.

"Five," I supplied.

"Five," he repeated into the phone.

While we waited for his driver, Josef waxed philosophical about Mick being a party pooper, the high price of a good freshie, and the effectiveness of tequila over vodka. A soft knock alerted us to Max's arrival, a giant of a man who had no trouble getting Josef to his feet, then supporting him as he was half dragged, half walked to my door.

"Please see that he gets inside his house and that his butler takes care of him from there," I instructed, wincing when Josef began singing a song in what sounded to be very loud Russian.

"Josef..shhhhh…I have to live here, you know!"

"Sorry!" he said, sotto voce. Before he'd made it completely into the hall, his hand gripped the doorjamb, effectively stopping them both with a sharp jerk. He turned his head back to me with a dreamy smile.

"You really do have a nice ass, Beth," he said sincerely.

I laughed and shut the door on him, glad his vampire reflexes were working enough to remove his hand before he lost it.

As I was finishing my third cup of coffee at work late the next morning, a man in a florist cap brought to my desk a crystal vase filled with sweet-smelling gardenias. Mick was such a sweetheart. I wondered what the occasion could be. Had I forgotten something? I went to tip the delivery guy, but he politely refused, stating it was already taken care of. I thanked him and smiled, fishing in the bouquet for the card.

In a flowery hand that far belied the personality of the author, were three simple words:

Forgive me.

Josef

I shook my head in surprise, then inhaled the luscious fragrance of my peace offering. Despite all his gruffness, Josef Kostan was really a very nice man. Too bad he'd never in a million years admit to such a weakness.

TBC

A/N: Well, do you like this start?

I think I set it up for all the confrontations/explanations/recriminations to come. Thanks for reading!