The Vampire Next Door (12 page)

*   *   *   *

In Morgaine’s apartment, the witches uploaded the pictures of V. Malvant’s lair to Gwyneth’s laptop. They’d show them to Sly as soon as the sun went down.

“Don’t y’all need to call your friend in New York about that wine he makes to cure vampires?”

“I’ll call Mikhail now.” Morgaine flipped through her Rolodex. “How’s the new mash coming?”

“I’m sorry about gittin’ the recipe wrong the first time. It should be ready for the still tomorrow. I’ll check it afore I pour it.”

“Good. If he can tell us the secret ingredient, we can try it in the very first batch!”

“Provided it don’t have to ferment all over agin.”

Morgaine located the number and picked up her phone. “What if it’s some kind of special grape? We can’t mix whiskey and wine.”

“No, but we could drink the whiskey and make brandy next time.”

“Figures you’d want to drink the whiskey. I thought you were going to let Sly sell it to make some rent money.”

Gwyneth whapped herself upside the head. “Oh, yeah. I forgot that part. I just got my mouth all set for a taste.”

“Well, you can taste it. In fact, we both should just to be sure it doesn’t burn our throats like rocket fuel.”

“Don’t be silly. It goes down smooth as honey.” Gwyneth rubbed her hands together. “Just like Daddy used to make. It should be, least ways. I’m using his recipe. There’s just one part I didn’t tell Sly about.”

“What’s that?”

“You gotta burn a piece of wood and toss it in at the end to get the right color.”

“Why didn’t you tell Sly about that?”

“Because he’s a vampire, and they don’t like wooden stakes or fire. I figured he could do without knowin’ that part.”

Morgaine stifled a snicker. “As long as you don’t sharpen it to a point and light it on fire under his nose, I’m sure he’ll be okay with it. I think the sun’s gone down. You want to check on the mash while I call Mikhail?”

“You trust me to be with Sly alone?”

Morgaine’s jaw dropped. “Shouldn’t I? I thought you wanted me to pursue—”

“I
do.
I just didn’t know if you’d be jealous anyways. I promise I won’t try nothin’.”

Morgaine remembered what Sly had said about Gwyneth and smiled. “It’s fine. I don’t have a problem with it.”
Thank goodness. That’s one worry I don’t need.

After Gwyneth left, Morgaine dialed Mikhail’s number. She hoped it didn’t matter what time of day she called since he probably used his own wine cure. The phone rang three times before he picked it up and said, “Hello.”

“Mikhail?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I hope you remember me. We met in Baltimore. My name is Morgaine.”

“Morgaine! The goth witch. Of course I remember you.”

She chuckled. “Good. But I’ve changed my look. I’m not doing the goth thing anymore.”

“Really? What do you look like now?”

“I went back to my natural blonde hair and pink lips. I still wear some black though. Witches usually do.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Mikhail asked.

“It’s the culmination of all colors. Very protective. Pulls in energy rather than reflecting it out like light colors. Plus, I like it.”

“That’s reason enough. Are you in the city? Can we get together and catch up?”

“Uh, no. I’m living in Boston now. But I’d love to catch up over the phone. How’s everything with you?”

“Fine as wine,” he said and chuckled.

“Speaking of wine, I specifically called to ask about your wine that cures vampirism.”

“Vampire Vintage? It’s not a cure, Morgaine. It’s more like temporary relief from sun sensitivity and blood lust.”

“Well, that’s what I meant.”

“Okay, so what did you want to know about it and why?”

“I need it for a friend of mine.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Uh… maybe? We’re both interested.”

“Hey, that’s a start. So, you’re okay with dating vampires?”

“Yes… well, nice ones.”

“If only I’d known that back in Baltimore.” He chuckled.

“Are you still single?”

“Nope. Happily committed. It’s quite a story. You should come down sometime and meet her.”

“I—uh… I don’t leave the apartment much.”

“Why is that?”

“I have a home business.”

“Really? What are you doing these days?”

She giggled. “I’m a phone-sex actress.”

He let out a loud burst of laughter.

“Hey, come on. Is it that hard to believe? I’ve been told I have a nice voice.”

He cleared his throat. “Oh, you do. I was just surprised, that’s all. Has Internet porn cut into your business at all?”

“Yeah, somewhat. We also used to have a landlady who hated the noise. Some of the guys like us to sound like we’re having the best orgasms of our lives.”

He chuckled. “Give me an example.”

“Of a typical call? I thought you were in a committed relationship.”

“Not a call. Just let me hear your orgasm act. It is just acting, right?”

“Of course. I’ll tell you what, I’ll trade. I need to know the ingredient in your wine that cures vampirism.”

“Oh, Morgaine… I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, it would be bad for business, but even more importantly, it’s impossible to duplicate.”

Morgaine’s hopes sank like the Titanic. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

Morgaine mustered her resolve. She couldn’t give up on Sly that easily. Maybe if she got hold of a bottle or two, she could reverse engineer the formula.

“So, how much do you charge per bottle?”

“It’s pretty expensive. I doubt you’d be able to afford it if your business isn’t doing well. How well off is your boyfriend?”

Morgaine groaned. “Worse off than me.”

“Really? That’s unusual for a vampire. We’re usually stinkin’ rich since we learn ways to accumulate wealth over the centuries. Does he have a gambling problem?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. Actually, he’s quite young in your terms. He lives simply and considers crime fighting his contribution to society. There are precious few jobs for the absolutely nocturnal.”

“Ain’t that the truth. So he probably has to take advantage of others to get what he needs. Be careful, Morgaine. I wouldn’t want to hear he’s using you.”

“I’m sure he isn’t. We’ve been friends for years. If he was going to do that, it would have happened by now.”

“I’m sorry to hear he has financial problems, but isn’t his maker helping him?”

“That’s another problem. His maker is an asshole. He killed Sly’s wife, and he almost prevented his daughter from being born during the attack. That’s a long story. Let’s just say his maker is after him for his own selfish reasons, and Sly will never forgive him for what he did.”

“Understandable. Well, chances are… Sly is his name?”

“Short for Sylvestro.”

“Ah, well, don’t worry. He’ll find a way to make some cash. Then with some smart investments…”

“That’s why we were hoping you’d tell us what the secret ingredient is. My cousin knows how to make moonshine, and we’ve set up a still. Sly figured he could sell the moonshine for more if we could adapt your recipe, and instead of making wine, we’d make whiskey. He can still just tend the still and sell it as is.”

“Smart. Unfortunately, it won’t work. But I wish him the best of luck. Hey, since you brought up the idea of bargaining, maybe you can trade your talent as a witch for a case of my private stock. I have a little problem, but you may need to come to New York to handle it.”

Fear sliced through Morgaine. “New… New York?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m offering an entire case of Vampire Vintage for it. I know it’s inconvenient.”

Inconvenient? That’s an understatement. With this friggin’ agoraphobia, it’s damn near impossible!

“Morgaine? Are you there?”

“Uh, yeah. Why would I have to come to New York?”
Please, Goddess, let him be wrong! Let it be something I can do from here!

“I need you to remove a curse from my warehouse. A vampire who practices black magic managed to get in and hex the place. I’ve had all kinds of workplace accidents, and there’s nothing stopping him from coming in again. Do you know how to undo all that?”

“A whole case, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“How much would that ordinarily cost?

“About ten thousand dollars.”

“Yikes!”

“It’s well worth it to me.”

Shit.
She did have to go there. At least she knew how to remove hexes, and now she even knew how to reseal doors against vampires. “I, um… I’ll see if I can get someone to take over my calls for a little while. It’ll depend on that.”
Among other things.

*   *   *   *

Chad and Morgaine “sat” together at her kitchen table. More to the point, Morgaine sat while Chad hovered. Sometimes being nothing but spiritual energy was damned inconvenient.

She stared in his direction but her eyes didn’t focus on his. “Chad, I know you have good reason not to leave the building, but do you think I’m lame for having agoraphobia?”

“Does it matter what I think?”

She sighed, sounding resigned. “I guess not. If feeling stupid cured our fears, I’d be bulletproof by now.”

“Come on, kid. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You have lots of strengths.”

She had developed her psychic sense well enough to see him. Or a shadowy version of him. That was a welcome change from people staring at the ceiling when they spoke to him. As if he was on his way to heaven but had bumped up against the ceiling and stayed there.

She smiled sadly and shrugged. “I guess so. There are certainly things I can do that would be impossible for average people, so why should I be upset when everyone and his brother can do something I find difficult?”

“It’s not that you can’t, Morgaine. You know you can. It’s just a matter of psyching yourself up for it.
Look how you managed to get to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum last spring.”

“Yeah, that’s because I thought I might be able to crack the FBI’s cold case and there was a five-million-dollar reward egging me on. Besides, it was right in our own backyard—relatively. New York is a hell of a lot farther away.”

“So? The point is you did it. You had to go with a trusted person, but at least you always had a friend like that willing to help. I doubt anyone I know on the other side, or wherever most dead people go, cares enough to come back for me.”

“I wish I knew more about the other side so I could help you, Chad. I tried, but…” She tossed her hands up.

“I know, and I appreciate that. To be honest, you know more about it than anyone else since you can communicate with spirits.”

“It’s been frustrating for me too. Usually all I have to do is tell a spirit to go into the light, and off they go.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple. I think a lot of it depends on the spirit. Maybe they have to be welcome over there and, at the same time, want to cross over. After all, Reginald didn’t leave the museum when you tried to get him to go.”

“True. If anyone wouldn’t be welcome somewhere, it would be him. Too bad that beautiful art museum is haunted by such a nasty-ass ghost. But you’ve changed. You should be able to cross over if it depends on good behavior.”

“Why, thank you for noticing.”

“How could anyone
not
notice? You used to be angry, surly, sarcastic, rude—”

“Okay, okay. I get your point.”

“I don’t really think it’s based on behavior. Maybe you’re attached to this place because you like and care about the residents.”

“Ha. I doubt it. Most of you can go fuck yourselves as far as I’m concerned. You’re the only one I
almost
care about. And that’s debatable.”

She smiled. “On the other hand, maybe it
is
based on behavior.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, screw you and the broom you rode in on.”

Morgaine laughed. “Thanks, Chad. I needed a good chuckle.”

“Sure. Any time, kid.”

A knock at Sly’s door filled him with momentary trepidation. Even though the witches had resealed the building against Malvant, some chucklehead might have let him in. Although, wait a minute—the front door hadn’t opened so it must be someone from the building.

As he strolled to the door, he hoped it was Morgaine. He hadn’t seen her for a couple days and he missed her. Gwyneth had come by once to pick up his mash and show him how to use the still, but thankfully, she had stopped flirting with him.

Upon opening the door, he grinned. “Morgaine, it’s good to see you. Come in.” She looked especially pretty. She had on a short black skirt and a pink blouse. Her embroidered black denim satchel was draped over her shoulder.

“Thanks.” As she made her way to his couch, she commented, “I’m glad you’re using candles now. I love the ambiance of candlelight.”

“I have to. Knowing my maker’s out there, I’ve kept the room-darkening shades closed. Thanks again for thinking of those.”

She smiled. “I’m glad I did. This way Vorigan Malvant can’t see in, either. At least, I hope not! Has anyone checked from outside yet?”

“Nathan did, and no, he couldn’t see in even with several candles lit.”

“I brought you more candles, by the way.” Morgaine dug into the big bag she held in her lap. “I figured you’d be stuck inside most nights now that Vorigan knows where you are.”