La Vida Vampire (25 page)

I stood my ground. “I believe I just did. No offense, of course,” I said, glancing at Ike, “but I have other plans.”

“What could possibly be more important than pleasing Lord Ike?” Laurel demanded.
Almost anything,
I nearly said but figured that might get my head slapped off my shoulders. Laurel was itching for a fight to avenge herself.

“I’m waiting for an answer,” she snapped. “Why do you refuse Lord Ike’s gracious invitation?”

Wild horses wouldn’t make me tell her Saber and I were meeting Eugene, so I shrugged and told her something shocking enough to shut her up.

“I’m going shopping at Wal-Mart.”

“Wal-Mart?” she echoed faintly and actually fell back a step while the tall twins exchanged a glance of pure horror.

“Yes. They’ve rolled back prices this week on small appliances.”

“Oooh, I need a fanthy blender,” Cici lisped. “Do they have Cuithinargh—” Cici broke off when Claire elbowed her in the ribs.

Poor Cici. I felt sorry enough for her to take her to Wal-Mart myself—and talk her into doing something safer than hanging out with vampires.

Ike gave me a steely look, then surveyed his crew and growled so low in his throat the ground vibrated beneath my thin soled slippers.

“Another time,” he said with a mocking bow. “Perhaps by then you will decide, eh, Princess?”

“Decide what?” I asked.

“Whether to exist with the mortals or truly live as a vampire. You cannot straddle the worlds much longer.”

He clapped his hands once and swept his entourage in a glance.

“Children, drive yourselves back immediately,” he said to Claire and Cici. At the vampires he barked, “Come.”

The vamps took five steps up the street and
poof
! They were airborne, flying. Not with arms out like wings, not facedown like birds. It was as if they’d hopped on a moving sidewalk powered by a wind current heading south.

“You have to admit,” Saber said, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “that’s damned impressive.”

“Yeah, it is,” I breathed. “Just think what they save in gas.”

SEVENTEEN

When the vampires disappeared into the starry sky, I expected Saber to blow his stack. I didn’t expect him to glance at his watch and say, “You want a drink?”

“A drink?” I echoed stupidly.

“Sure. There’s not enough time for you to drag me all the way to Wal-Mart before we meet Eugene.”

I peered closer into the cobalt depths of his eyes and saw them twinkle. Then he smiled and took my arm. “Lighten up, Cesca.”

I couldn’t help but smile back as I fell into step with him, but I shook my head. “Aren’t you, um—”

“Pissed as hell?” Saber supplied.

I gulped. “We can go with that.”

He flashed a full-on grin. “I’m not angry. I’m surprised. When you told me you survived being buried by feeding off energy, I didn’t picture you sucking it like water through a damn straw.”

“I didn’t feed that way,” I said defensively. “I only had a sip here and there.”

Saber leaned to peer at my face. “You didn’t know you could pull aura like that, did you?”

“No, and it shocked me,” I admitted. I’d be coming to grips with that knowledge for days.

“Shocked Ike, too,” he said with an edge to his smile.

“He was threatening my friends, Saber. I couldn’t just stand there.”

He stopped and turned me, laid his warm hands on my shoulders.

“Cesca, you used your powers, your skills, to protect your friends and defuse the standoff. My skills come with a gun, yours come with being a vampire. You don’t have to be like Ike to be what you are.”

Maybe he had a point, but I’d still scared myself silly.

Saber tucked my hand in his arm, and we resumed strolling. “The only thing that worries me is that you showed your hand to Ike. He’s sure not going to leave you alone now. You’re a challenge.”

“And you sound happy about that why?” I snipped.

“Because,” he said, steering me the final steps to Scarlett’s, “I’ll just have to hang around and protect you.”

A wave of pleasant shivers showered me, then my cell phone chirped. I fumbled it out of my pocket and checked caller ID.

“It’s Mick,” I told Saber.

He nodded. “Take it while I look for a table.”

I flipped the phone open. “Mick, are you and Janie okay?”

“Yeah. We’re exhausted but alive.” He sighed. “Thanks for whatever you did to get us out of there.”

“Sure.” If they didn’t remember what a close call it had been, they’d have fewer nightmares. “Can I do anything for you?”

“No. I brought Janie to my place. I have—” He hesitated. “—certain safeguards here. Janie’s already sleeping, and I’m headed for bed.”

“Good. And, Mick, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you, Cesca. I just wish I’d asked more questions when the office told me your tour was a sellout. ” He sighed again. “Next time, huh?”

“Right,” I said. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

I disconnected, then whirled at a touch on my back.

“Easy,” Saber said, handing me a glass of sweet tea, heavy on the ice. His drink smelled like bourbon, neat, and Eugene Cassidy stood behind him holding a cola.

“I ran into Cassidy inside, but we can’t find a table.”

I glanced across the street at the courtyard of a closed coffee shop. Four people at one of the small metal tables were leaving.

“There?” I asked.

Saber nodded, and we trooped into the shadows of huge oaks.

“Miss Cesca,” Eugene said as he pulled a chair out for me.

He still spoke in that deep North Carolina drawl, but it was no longer Gomer-ish. His black slacks and dark gray cotton shirt weren’t tailored, but they fit him correctly.

“Miz Hayward said I can share any information with you, so where do you want to start?”

“With Etienne Fournier,” I said as I settled in the seat. “What do you have on him?”

“You suspect him of killin’ Yolette?”

“And maybe Rachelle, too,” I said.

Eugene’s gaze cut to Saber. “You were called in on Rachelle’s case, right?”

Saber nodded. “And we know Ike drafted you to investigate the murder.”

Eugene frowned. “How did you know?”

“Ike showed up for my tour tonight.”

Eugene gave me a slow blink. “He left his lair?”

“Yes, so the sooner we figure this out, the sooner Ike will be off our backs. Did you see the Fourniers with Rachelle in Daytona Beach?”

“Briefly, in the parkin’ lot at Ike’s club. A client can’t pay me enough to go into one of those places, so I ran surveillance from outside.”

“Did Rachelle and the Fourniers leave together?” Saber asked.

“No. Rachelle went back inside, Yolette followed her, and Etienne went to their car. He sat a while, messin’ with somethin’

that looked like a flask.”

“A flask? Like for liquor?” I asked.

“Yes, but I couldn’t see what he did with it. After ’bout fifteen minutes, he went back inside.”

“When you saw them outside the club,” Saber pressed, “were they agitated? Seem to be arguing?”

“Tense. It seemed like a tense encounter,” Eugene said slowly, his gaze going over Saber’s shoulder as if picturing the scene. “Rachelle was holdin’ herself stiffly. I didn’t have my eavesdroppin’ equipment set up, though now I wish I had.”

“What about later?” I asked. “Did you see them again?”

He frowned. “Come to think on it, that was odd.”

I waited with the proverbial baited breath, thinking I’d have to crawl down his throat to pull the words out.

“Rachelle and a whole group of ’em came out the second time. Most of ’em were actin’ drunk or high. One of the females—not Rachelle—had herself draped all over Etienne. Kissin’ on him, lickin’ his ears. Hell, I thought she was gonna either bite him or sexually attack him right there in the parking lot.”

I glanced at Saber. “Can vampires get drunk or high?”

“You don’t know, Miss Cesca?” Eugene said, startled.

“I haven’t hung around vampires for a long time, Eugene.”

“Oh, a’course.”

I raised a questioning brow at Saber. “Well?”

“On enough blood, yeah, vampires can get high. On booze and street drugs? I ’ve never seen those affect them.” Saber paused, then asked Eugene, “What was Rachelle doing in the parking lot the second time?”

“Talkin’ to another of the female vamps, and that was definitely an argument. The one kept pushin ’ Rachelle—like she didn’t want Rachelle back in the club.”

“Do you know which vampire it was?” Saber asked.

“Not by name, but she was black, hair in cornrows. I’d recognize her.”

I glanced at Saber, and we read each other loud and clear. Laurel.

“My wife called ’bout then,” Eugene continued. “The hot water heater broke, and I had to get home.”

“But the Fourniers were still at the club when you left?” Saber asked.

“They were. Even looked like they were headed back inside. Their car was empty when I passed it on the way out of the lot.”

I sat back, picturing one vampire shoving another one as if to keep her outside. Laurel had been little miss bossy, zealous where Ike was concerned, and jealous, too. Could she have had a hand in bumping Rachelle off? Why would Etienne drink booze from a flask when Ike sold liquor? I couldn’t see Etienne traveling with French brandy.

“…an engineer,” Eugene was saying when I focused on the conversation again. “Etienne had never been married before Yolette, but he’d known her for a while. They both were deep into the vampire club scene for several years.”

“You mean Yolette knew Etienne before she met James Peters?” Saber asked.

“Yep, and after.” Eugene rubbed the back of his neck. “They were rumored to be lovers, but that lifestyle lends itself to sleepin’ around.”

“Wait, you think Yolette and Etienne were lovers during her marriage to James?” I asked. “Like a threesome?”

Eugene shook his head. “That I don’t know. My Paris contact never got a consistent story about their activities.” He turned his hands up in a go-figure gesture.

“Was there
any
consistent information?” Saber asked.

Eugene made a rueful face and pulled at his ear. “Only that Etienne hung around Yolette and James during the time they were a couple. Etienne might have a date, or he might be alone, but they socialized.”

“Millie told us Yolette inherited some of James’s estate,” I said. “What about Etienne? Does he inherit from Yolette?”

Eugene shrugged. “My Paris contact might be able to find out about a prenup, but it won’t be until Monday.”

Eugene pulled out a small spiral, the kind Detective March used, and wrote
Inheritance
in neat script. We sat quietly for a minute, me trying to draw lines between the murders—all three of them, if I included James.

“Let’s say,” I mused aloud, “that Etienne is involved in the murders. The two humans wouldn’t be difficult to kill—”

“But a vampire would be nigh on impossible,” Eugene added.

“Right. Yolette and Etienne
seemed
obsessed with vampire sex, but were they really?”

Saber leaned forward, his elbows on the small table. “What are you cooking up now?”

“I can see Yolette into sex. She came off as bisexual.”

Eugene nodded. “That fits what I saw.”

“But,” I went on, “Etienne seemed more—I don’t know—remote? Like he didn’t care one way or another but was mildly amused by Yolette’s antics. That’s how he acted when she propositioned me.”

“Actually,” Eugene drawled, “now that you mention it, he wasn’t kissin’ or cuddlin’ the vampire who was all over him. He just sorta stood there. Yolette would be the one holdin’ hands with a vampire or havin’ her arm around one.”

“Did Etienne look embarrassed? Tolerant? What?” Saber asked.

Eugene closed his eyes a minute. “Like Miss Cesca said, amused. Indulgent, maybe.”

“Were you taking photos?” Saber asked.

“And video. I can e-mail the stills to one of you.”

“Can’t hurt,” I said and rattled off my e-mail address. “So if Etienne wasn’t in the vampire scene for sex, what drew him there?” I turned to Eugene. “What else do you have on him? Work, family, anything?”

He spread his hands as if at a loss. “He’s the only child of parents livin ’ outside Paris. Works for a chemical company where he has a poor performance record. He’s been demoted once and is on probation now.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Comin’ in late, sloppy work habits, that kind of thing. ” Eugene paused. “He had a good company reputation until he started carousin’ at vampire clubs.”

“What exactly does he do at the chemical company?” I asked over a buzzing noise. Eugene shifted in the hard chair, pulled out his cell phone, and read the screen before he answered. “I guess he does whatever chemical engineers do. Develop chemicals, test ’em.”

“Do you know what he was working on?”

“I’ll check that with my contact Monday,” he said, adding my questions to his list. “Anythin’ else?”

“Just one other question,” I said. “Why did you tell me you were Holland Peters?”

“Instead of stickin’ with Gomer?” Eugene smiled and patted my hand where it lay on the table. “Truth is, I wanted to see if Yolette or Etienne would react to it. When Stony caused the scene and I had to give my name, I stuck with Holland.”

“Did the Fourniers connect you with Yolette’s first husband?” Saber asked.

“Didn’t so much as blink when I said I was Peters,” he admitted. “Cold fish, those two. I need to go, but if you get proof Etienne killed Rachelle, I’d sure ’preciate bein’ filled in. Ike is not a patient, uh, man.”

Eugene had to stake out a hotel in Ormond Beach, but he left us his business cards, complete with his cell and fax numbers and his e-mail address. I tucked mine in the bodice of my Minorcan costume as he and Saber shook hands. Bad move.

With Saber strolling beside me back up Hypolita toward the bay front, I was aware of the card in my bra and my musky aura. Each time Saber brushed my arm oh-so-casually, my body tightened, and my breasts distinctly tingled. I wasn’t horny enough to chew nails yet, but my heart thu-thudded with every stray touch.

Distraction. I needed one, and fast, because getting it on with Saber was
not
on my agenda. At Hypolita and St. George, we veered around a group of bikers reeking of beer and wearing almost as much leather as the vampire set.