Real Vampires Have Curves (38 page)

“Damian, is your sister invisible?” Flo stepped in front of us. “Aren't you going to greet me?”

“Sorry. I was distracted.” He squeezed my hand. “Welcome, sister dear. I recognize the Kevlar. Good choice. Your lover is inside. In my library coveting my latest acquisition, a Thomas Aquinas manuscript. Breathtaking illuminations.” Damian looked at me, though his eyes never got above boob level. “I'll show you later, Gloriana.”

“Damian.” Flo wasn't budging.

“Your lover is waiting, Florence. Shouldn't you join him?” Damian was staring at my breasts as if hoping they'd pop free of the bustier. Which would almost be a relief. But what was a little pain when you could make hunky vamps pant?

“In a moment.” Flo tapped her foot. “Look at me, Damian.”

“What?” Damian dragged his eyes to his sister's face. “Whoa. You look steamed. What's going on? Has Mainwaring done something?”

“No, not him.” Flo glanced at Blade. “Have you seen Kenneth Collins this evening?”

“Not yet. But I saw him last night, driving a new Jaguar. Grief seems to agree with him. He also contacted my realtor about a new home in the hills.”

“Will you let me know when he gets here?”

“Sure. Whatever.” Damian patted Flo on the shoulder then moved her out of the way. “It's party time, ladies.”

Flo shook her head. “Jeremiah, you should come with me. Talk to Ricardo. He may be able to help us with Kenneth.”

“If you're sure you'll be all right, Gloriana.” Blade ignored Damian as thoroughly as Damian ignored him.

“I'll be fine.” I squeezed Damian's arm. “Anyone aims a stake at me, I'll throw Damian in front of me.”

Lacy laughed and I eased away from Damian in case he'd lost his sense of humor.

“You
are
a little devil, aren't you? No one will be aiming stakes here. Security is as tight as Jeremiah's ass.”

“By God!” Blade put his hand on his sword.

“Ignore him, Jerry.” I smiled at Blade. “Damian hates to be ignored. Go with Flo. We'll see you later.”

Damian reached up to straighten my horns and gave me one of his smoldering looks. “Later I will show you my dungeon, Gloriana. Where I put bad little girls.”

Blade and Valdez snorted in unison. Both turned away. Blade to follow Flo into the house and Valdez to settle next to the door of the tent.

“I haven't been a little girl for a long, long time, Damian.” I smiled and fiddled with the ties of his black satin cape lined with red. Damian was Dracula incarnate in the cape over a black tux, snowy shirt and bow tie. His hair was brushed back from his forehead and his fangs were full out. The overall effect was definitely sexy. “As for being bad . . . the night is young. I could go either way.”

“Come play with me, Gloriana.” Damian was doing his best to do the whammy on me. I could feel his intensity. But my blocks were strong and holding. I do so love to feel my own power.

“Maybe later. You have more guests arriving. Go play host.” I gave Damian a finger wave and sauntered into the tent, making sure to twitch my devil's tail. A crowd was gathered around a steaming fountain in the middle of the tent. The new synthetic blood poured out and could be caught in crystal goblets. The smell was pretty amazing. I was heartily sick of Bloody Merry. If this stuff tasted as good as it smelled, I was switching brands. My fangs ran out and I looked around to be sure no mortals were going to gasp and point.

Not to worry. Among the vamps and shifters, the mortals looked twice as weird, scary even. I'll take natural vamp fangs over deliberately sharpened teeth any day.

Lacy immediately latched on to a good-looking shifter. This one had a slight wolf smell to him, a werewolf. You'd think a kitty would avoid her natural predator, but then Lacy was gulping Scotch like it was water and had a “What the hell” look to her. I got the feeling she could take care of herself. She was definitely on guard against predatory men.

I drifted around the room, greeting the vamps I knew. CiCi was a very sexy Glinda the Good Witch. Her companion, the handsome vamp she'd latched on to at the meeting, struggled with a Tin Man costume that clanked and seemed on the verge of falling apart. Freddy was the Cowardly Lion while Derek dribbled straw as the Scarecrow. The capper was Sheba, her kitty self draped over CiCi's shoulder, a dog mask over her face, clearly impersonating Toto.

“What is this? The vamp cast of
The Wiz
?” I looked around. “Where's Dorothy?”

“I knew we forgot someone.” CiCi frowned and looked me over. “I don't think you would do, Glory, unless you lost the
Girls Gone Wild
look and we found you something a little more . . . innocent.”

“Don't let her get her hooks into you, Glory. You look great. Unlike some of us.” Derek shuddered and pulled a straw out of his hair. “I don't know how I let CiCi talk me into this.”

“Mother is very persuasive when she puts her mind to it.” Freddy's yellow tights didn't leave nearly enough to the imagination and he made a pretty impressive lion. His mother tapped Derek with her wand.

“I think we'll win the prize this year, Derek. Be patient,” CiCi said sternly. “Where's Valdez? Sheba would love to see him.” The cat hopped down and stretched, the mask slipping down to hang around her neck. Her blue eyes gleamed as she looked around.

“Sitting outside the tent.” I grinned, imagining Valdez's reaction to the Toto costume. Tin Man's funnel hat fell off with a clank and I left the group arguing about how to get it to stay on short of the nail gun a glowering Derek proposed.

“A prize?” I smiled at the body-builder vamp I'd met before. I couldn't think of his name. Tonight he was Hercules, his skimpy costume showing off a seriously buff body.

“Sure. Damian is famous for his costume contests. Last year a Lady Godiva rode up at the last minute on a horse.” Hercules laughed. “Of course she won, especially when a breeze showed everyone at the party that she'd taken the riding naked through the streets part seriously.”

“Sorry I missed it.” I looked around.

“If you'd been here, Gloriana,
you
would have won. You look hot.” Hercules moved closer. “Can I get you a drink? Damian's imported the good stuff. Fangtastic. From Transylvania.”

“Thank you. I'd love to try it.” Maybe just a sip wouldn't hurt me. I took a cautious breath. Hercules' eyes bugged and his jaw dropped. He almost backed into a tray of glasses on his way to the drink fountain. I looked down to make sure I was still decent. Barely. But got to love the boobs-galore effect.

“Forget him.” Damian was back in the tent and handed me a full goblet of his imported synthetic. “Taste. Tell me what you think.”

I smelled. Mmm. AB negative, much better than Ryan, the sneaky spy. I allowed myself just a taste. Have mercy. This was enough like the real thing that I could close my eyes and imagine . . .

A kiss brushed my lips, deepened. Leave it to Damian to take advantage of a blood lust moment. I leaned into it. The man kissed like an artist. Red, green, yellow and violet swirled behind my closed lids. His hand slid around my neck—

“Mr. Sabatini, Mr. Sabatini.”

I leaned back with a sigh. “You're being paged, Mr. Sabatini.”

We both turned to stare at Tony Crapetta. Typically clueless, the mortal had interrupted just when things were getting interesting.

“What is it, Tony?” Damian picked up a goblet of his own and took a deep swallow. “This had better be good.”

“The guards down at the gate caught a guy trying to get inside who's not on the list. Maybe you should do your mind reading thing on him. See if Westwood sent him.”

Damian got a look that made even me shiver. “You're right. I'm coming. Stay here and take care of Miss Gloriana. See that she gets whatever she wants.” He winked at me. “I think I'll take Hercules with me. In case we need to get physical with our gate-crasher.”

“Sure, boss. I'll stick to Miss Gloriana like glue.” Tony looked at my drink and grimaced. “You mind if I get me a real drink first?”

Damian nodded and Tony headed for the bar. After a short discussion with Hercules, Damian strode from the tent. He was followed by Hercules, who sent me a mental “catch you later” message before he disappeared. I'd better ramp up my blocks if a guy I'd barely met could communicate with me. A shame, really. I wanted to relax and have fun, not give myself a headache. I decided to forget blocks as long as Damian was out of the way.

I looked around at the crowd. I saw more than one witch, though CiCi was the only one who hadn't gone over to the dark side. Then there were the Draculas. Most of them were mortals who'd painted their faces white and their lips red with fake blood dribbled at the corners of their mouths. Yeah, right. Like we're pigs who slobber our supper and never use a napkin.

There was a flash and a puff of smoke as a wizard turned a startled man, dressed as an Elizabethan courtier, into a frog. The wizard glanced at me and shrugged, like “What are you going to do,” then walked away. Oops. I'd say Froggie had made Wizard mad about something. Apparently Froggie's date, a ringer for Queen Liz I, wasn't going to just let this go. She picked the creature up and headed outside, hot on the heels of the Wizard. No one paid attention to her screeches of rage.

Various vamps that I'd met at the meetings we'd held recently smiled and nodded to me. It was definitely nice to be part of what Richard had called the vampire community.

“I'm back, Miss Gloriana.” Tony had a stiff drink in his hand.

I probed his mind. Nervous. Sticking with the vampires, no matter how much Westwood offered him. He wasn't the idiot everyone took him for. He wanted to live, in Austin, for a long, long time. Maybe forever if he got up the nerve to ask one of the fang masters to turn him vampire.

“Mr. Sabatini sure throws a quality party.” Tony took a swallow of his drink and sighed with pleasure. “What say we check out the next tent?”

“Sure. Why not?” I walked beside him to the door of the tent and looked around. There were three other tents scattered around the lawn. The band I'd heard when we arrived was set up on the porch that faced the breathtaking view. The band played a song that sounded familiar and a few couples danced on the stone terrace. Small tables held candles and the flickering lights were very romantic. And here I was with Tony Crapetta.

“See that band? They just had a hit single on the country charts. Last year it was a rock band. Not the disco that I like to groove to, but I'd be glad to dance with you if you want, Miss Gloriana.” Tony held out his hand. “Mr. Sabatini dropped a bundle bringing this group here for a private party. A shame to waste good music.”

Tony was wearing a vest suit straight from the seventies, bell-bottom pants and a full sleeved shirt with a wild print. He could have been a contestant in the dance contest in
Saturday Night Fever
except for the six crosses nestled in his chest hair. He did a little John Travolta move and that sealed the deal as far as I was concerned.

“Thanks, Tony. Maybe later. Let's explore the next tent before we do any dancing.” I'd have been smart if I'd just danced with the Disco King. Because the next tent held a horrifying sight. Was Damian trying to ruin me? I stopped in the doorway. Paranoia. Damian couldn't have known about my little problem. Nobody in Austin knew. Except for Valdez.

“What's wrong, Miss Gloriana? See? There's blackjack, roulette, poker tables. Free chips so you don't have to lose your own money.” I felt Tony's hand on my back, urging me inside. “Then there's a prize table if you want to cash your winnings in for some pretty nifty things. Last year I went home with a DVD player.”

Here it came—the rush, the adrenaline flow I'd tried to forget, but had to admit I'd missed. The music outside was just so much noise compared to the symphony inside. The rattle of chips, the cry of the winner and the moans of the losers as someone got twenty-one almost brought tears to my eyes. The roulette wheel whirled and the crowd gasped as the ball fell and danced around the circle. I edged closer. What number had hit? If it had been seven black, my lucky number . . .

“What the hell's going on here?”
Valdez bumped my hip.
“Not going in there, are you?”

Tony stared bug-eyed at Valdez. “Did that dog just talk?”

“No, you imagined it.” I hit Tony with the whammy, then gave Valdez a stern look. “You know the rules, Valdez. Cool it around mortals. Now I have to erase Tony's memory and I've only been here a few minutes.”

“If I want to gamble, I'll gamble. This isn't the real deal. It's just for fun.”

“You can't have that kind of fun, Blondie. You go nuts and you know it.”
Valdez actually stepped between me and the roulette table.

My fault. I never should have let Valdez come inside at all those meetings of Gamblers Anonymous. He'd appointed himself my keeper after hearing all the warning signs, et cetera, et cetera. Of course I'd had a mortal sponsor as part of the program but Valdez had taken over after some unfortunate backsliding on my part. I'd finally gotten the message, along with maxed out credit cards, and quit cold turkey. I've been clean now for four years, six months and twenty-two days. And, believe me, Valdez is counting.

I looked inside the tent. I could smell the excitement. What would one game hurt? Texas Hold 'em. I could see a table with an opening—

Oof ! I was flat on my back, staring at the sky overhead. A fifty pound dog sat on my chest.