Real Vampires Live Large (17 page)

“A grand opening present.” Derek whipped open the laptop and set it on the counter. “Gather around everyone.” He booted it up and began typing. “Voilà. Vintagevamp
shop.com
.”

A Web site popped up on the screen. There it was, my shop. Or at least a photo of my shop at night. And all sorts of options including a shopping cart. Derek clicked on an icon and the Chanel suit I so adored came up, complete with price.

“Oh, my God! This is so cool.” I hugged him and stepped back so everyone could take a look.

“I tried to get
Vintagevamps.com
but it was taken. And who can spell emporium? I hope this is all right.”

“All right? Are you kidding?” I hugged him again, then clicked on another icon. CiCi's porcelain cherub appeared. Sold, too, apparently, and at a great price. “When did you get this up?”

“A few days ago. I'll have to show you how to access your PayPal account. We've already sold a few pieces.” He took the cherub off the shelf. “I'll take care of the shipping and everything if I can have a commission on what we sell online.”

“Deal.” I was elated. A mantel clock Lacy had picked up at an estate sale chimed twelve and she threw open the doors. Flyers had gone out over the weekend and, even though it was 12:01 on a Tuesday morning, a massive crowd of three shoppers surged through the door.

“I love that poodle skirt in the window. My husband's lodge is having a fifties dance. That would be perfect.” A woman with a name tag from a local supermarket had obviously just gotten off work.

“Wait!” Flo had been pretty quiet, but now she was determined to have center stage. She looked great in a blue cashmere sweater and Seven jeans with her high-heeled Christian Dior boots. She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and stared until everyone, including the mortals, focused on her.

“Are we finally going to get to see what you've been painting?” I moved closer and grabbed my roomie's arm. “I've been dying of curiosity.”

Lacy made a sound. Was she choking or—oh, my God—laughing? I braced myself. I'd had no idea that Flo even knew how to paint. Though she'd certainly had her share of artist lovers. All of them famous. Wouldn't it be cool if she'd copied her lover Leonardo's
Mona Lisa
on the wall? No, scratch that. Flo hated Lisa and kept insisting
she
had been a
he
. Flo's version would probably include a mustache.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Vintage Vamp's.” Flo paused for dramatic effect and I braced myself. She ripped down the sheet.

The room was silent. Well, almost. Poodle Skirt Lady gasped and dropped a vintage twin set.

“Oh, my.” CiCi looked at me, then at Flo. “Why I had no idea, Florence, dear, that you had such hidden talents.”

“Maybe they should have stayed hidden.”
Valdez nudged my hip.
“Say something, Blondie.”

“It's . . . it's fabulous.”

Flo broke into a smile. “I learned to paint this way from my dear lover Edvard. I thought it was just what this wall needed. For a place called Vintage Vamp's.”

“Edvard Munch?” One of the mortals, a tall woman who looked like she'd just left a trendy cocktail party, frowned. “But he's been dead for—”

Frederick was beside her in a flash, literally. He nodded and Derek and CiCi handled the other two mortals. I may not be fond of the whammy anymore, but here it was a necessary evil. Had to feel sorry for the mortals, though, standing there with vacant eyes and gaping mouths, barely breathing mannequins.

“Of course he's been dead for over a century. The fool wouldn't let me turn him. ‘Why live forever,' he would say, ‘When life is so painful?' He was always sad. I think I only saw him laugh a few times. Sexy of course or I wouldn't have bothered with him.” Flo stared at the painting with a wistful smile. “Maybe I should add more yellow. Edvard's paintings were pretty gloomy.”

“Yeah. His work wasn't exactly a laugh riot.” Will stared at the wall, apparently feeling free to chime in since the mortals were out of action, Lacy had locked the door again and Derek was ignoring him. “You did a good job. I recognized it immediately.”

“Thanks. I'm surprised you know it.” Flo hadn't exactly fallen in love with Will, not when he'd dragged one of her Ferragamo slides out of her closet. No damage or we'd be talking dead dog here.

“I've seen some of his work.” Will looked over at Valdez's snort. “An artistic girlfriend who liked museums. This looks like a combo platter, half
The Scream
, half
Vampire
.” He turned to Flo. “And all cool.”

“Why, thank you, William.” Flo pushed his head away when he nudged her butt. Then she looked around uncertainly. “Is it too . . . dark?”

“I think it's amazing.” Derek shook his head. “Hey, let's see what mortals think, I figure it'll be unique to this shop. A conversation piece. Maybe I should take a picture of it and put it on the Web site.”

“You did a great job, Flo. This looks completely professional. ” I stepped closer. The female vamp had flowing red hair and leaned over a man. She looked on the verge of taking a bite. It was weird but, in its own way, beautiful. Now the screamer was a different story. Mouth open, he was probably horrified by the pair occupying the other half of the wall. He stood on a bridge, probably ready to jump because he had this really freaky looking alien head.

“It was fun. I may paint again.” Flo looked around the shop.

I had visions of a shop slash spook house that would make a horror director weak with envy. I had to head that off at the pass. “We should hit an art supply store. Maybe you'd like to try your hand at a picture, something smaller to hang on the wall upstairs. Maybe a self-portrait. The vampire in this looks familiar.”

“It's me, of course, though why Edvard wouldn't paint in my face, I don't know.” Flo wrinkled her perfect nose. “He said I was beautiful, but then he gave my hair red highlights. Do you see red in my hair? Pah! I think he lied when he said it had something to do with the composition. He had a redheaded lover after me.”

“No, the color draws attention to the vampire. Makes her the star.” Freddy grinned when Flo made one of her Italian gestures. “It's fantastic. I swear this looks just like his stuff. I have a print of
Vampire
in my study.” He'd been walking from one end of the wall to the other. “Munch was a little twisted, but brilliant.”

“That was Edvard. So tortured. I cheered him up for a little while, but it didn't last.” Flo made a dismissive gesture with her hands. “I moved on.”

There was a knock on the door. More customers. Which was a good thing. I glanced at the wall. Derek was right. As a conversation piece, this was a doozy. I sent a mental message all around and we jumped back into place. The mortals snapped out of it, back on the scene as if they'd never moved from the spot when they'd first seen the painting. They were exclaiming over it when Lacy opened the door again and two men in their early twenties pushed inside. Richard was right behind them.

“Interesting.” He smiled at me, then walked over to look at the wall. “Florence, you've certainly picked up a trick or two in the years you've been”—he glanced at the mortals— “
studying
the great artists.”

“Why, thank you, Richard.” Flo picked up her black leather jacket and slipped into it. “Good luck with your opening, Glory. I have a date. I won't be back tonight.” She smiled at the group and headed out.

“I'm a little worried about her.” Lacy was at my elbow. “Have you met her new man?”

I shook my head. “That's not unusual, though. She kept Richard a secret for a while. Seems like we met him just before she dumped him.”

“I think it's weird. She won't even talk about this new guy. And we got pretty close while she was working on”—a sweeping gesture toward the wall—“that.”

“Florence always has a new man. He won't last, none of her men do.” Richard strolled over to Freddy and they soon had their heads together at the laptop discussing the new Web site.

I was doing my best not to stare at Richard's butt in worn denims that hugged his muscular thighs. For a second there, I'd almost felt sorry for him, the most recent in a long, long line of Florence rejects.

I hadn't heard the Harley roar up so maybe he'd flown or driven in. That was the thing with dating a vampire. They could do and be just about anything. Hold it. Not dating. Paying off a debt. Friends. That's all. Okay, okay, friends with . . . benefits. Like rolling on the ground playing tonsil hockey. Hmm. I checked out his taut butt again. With benefits like those, who needed a relationship? Especially one as complicated as mine was with Blade.

I glanced back at Flo's mural. Maybe highlighting the vamp thing wasn't smart, but it was definitely interesting. The artsy looking woman was talking on her cell phone and I heard her say “amazing painting.” Good. Maybe her friend would rush right over and find something to buy while she was here.

The poodle skirt lady had talked Derek into undressing the mannequin in the window and headed for the dressing room. CiCi was showing a bronze to one of the men when the bells on the front door rang. Another man came inside.

I froze. Tinted glasses. But I got closer and relaxed when I could read his mind. He was following the hot guys he'd met at a bar down the street. He was also into butts and hot guy number one had some sweet cheeks. Then he spotted an Armani jacket and was hooked on my “cool” shop. No Westwood thoughts from him at all. I smiled and rang up my first sale, that bronze CiCi had consigned. All right. We were back in business.

Twelve

"I tell you, honeybunch, that wall is giving me night-mares. ”

“Don't be ridiculous. Ghosts don't sleep. Do they?” I was deep into an argument with my resident ghosts forty-eight hours after our grand opening. Emmie Lou hated Flo's painting and, since I was alone in the shop with just the dogs, she'd come out to speak her piece.

“You know what I mean. How would you like to stare at that thing all day
and
all night? That screaming skull. And, honey, you know I love vampires, but that picture's just flat creepy.”

“No, it's not. It's art. The customers love it.” And they did. Even wanted to take pictures of it. I'd had Flo sign her name to it to make it clear that this was just a depiction, not a forgery. It took some prodding, but she'd finally printed in da Vinci just big enough to cause even more comment. Can't read or write? I don't think so.

“Let her count her money, Emmie Lou. You know she ain't gonna paint over that mural. People've done nothing but talk about it since the place opened up again.” Harvey hitched up his britches and stepped closer to the vampire section of the wall. “I think it's kind of sexy, the way she's biting him right
there
.” He looked meaningfully at Emmie Lou's neck. “You used to like a little nibble, honey.”

“Nibble this, Harvey Nutt.” Emmie took a swing at him with one of Flo's purses and an alligator bag sailed across the room.

“Cool it, you two. And don't throw the merchandise.” I rescued the purse and put it back on a shelf. I'd locked the door at five a.m. after sending everyone off so I could count the night's receipts. This was typically our dead time. Oops. Okay, maybe it's always dead time for a vampire. But in a business sense, there wasn't much happening. At six, when Lacy came in, we usually got a few night workers as they came off their shifts.

“Sorry, honey. Earlier it did look like your business was booming again.” Emmie Lou turned her back to the painting. “Glad of that. I sure didn't want to go back to the days of biker bars or tattoo parlors. Between the smoke and the loud music, honey, we were in hell.”

“We've had a great start.” I looked up at the tap on the door. Hmm. The dogs growled and started barking. I thought Valdez was going to go through the safety glass. I moved closer.

“Stop it. I know this guy.”

Greg Kaplan grinned at me and gestured, like, let me in. Probably not a good idea, but I wanted to talk to him. Ask him about the EVs since I'd got a little of nothing from Flo. And, yeah, it bugged the hell out of me that I couldn't remember our affair. I wanted details. How long had we been together?
Why
had we been together? I didn't doubt the dogs would make quick work of Greg if he threatened me.

“Don't do it, Blondie. This is the asshole who gave you the headaches.”
Valdez growled again.

“He's not going to do that again, are you, Greg?” I yelled this through the door and Greg nodded, then crossed his heart. “If he does, you have my permission to rip him a new one, okay?”

“Now you're talking.” Will glanced at Valdez. “It's about time we saw some action. I say she lets him in. If you can't handle him,
I
can.”

“The day I can't take out a loser like that, is the day I turn in my flea collar.”
Valdez gave Greg the eye through the glass and showed some teeth.

“Fine. I'm letting him in. But I don't need your permission. Just stay on high alert. I may decide he needs a hurt put on him. For past insults.” Emmie Lou and Harvey had vanished, but were probably still lurking about. They didn't miss anything and also liked to do some damage when they felt I was being mistreated.

Feeling like I had backup out the whazoo, I flipped open the dead bolts and let Greg in along with the cold night air. Austin had had a cold front, and the temperature was hovering around forty degrees, about twenty lower than on my date night. Texas weather. Nowhere close to the snow weather during the parade when I'd had some of the best sex . . .