23
“I’m afraid you can’t wiggle out of it this time,” he sighs as he stands beside me watching as Laura’s loaded onto a gurney and wheeled away towards a waiting ambulance.
“Bye, Laura,” I whisper as her face is covered with a white sheet, “guess I need a new potential ally.”
Jag shakes his head.
“Did you hear what I said, Catriona? You win. You and I will go on a date tomorrow night.”
“Yes,” I murmur, “but it’s by default.”
“Yes, you win only by default,” he says loud enough for the other competitors to hear.
The sun’s almost up, and we had all, including the vampire, stayed longer than we should have waiting for the final contestant to reach the beach — but she had still not arrived.
The Viscount had wanted to wait because he wanted antivenom administered to Laura, but she’d expired a few minutes ago.
There’s still no sign of the last contestant, the Mexican, Regina. A search party is being organised, but if my bait and switch worked, she’ll soon be, if indeed she isn’t already, what my father liked to say his enemies were doing once he’d dealt with them: “feeding the fishes.”