Last Vampire Standing (14 page)

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Authors: Nancy Haddock

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: Last Vampire Standing
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“Good evening ladies and—”

If he says germs, I’m sliding under the table.

“—gentlemen. Thank you for staying tonight, and I hope you’ve enjoyed your evening.

“Now, it’s probably not obvious, but I’m a vampire.”

Titters in the crowd. Good.

“Really. One way you can tell I’m a vampire is that I’m a couple of hundred years old and I still have my hair.”

More titters. I glanced at Maggie, who nodded.

“Well, think about it. When was the last time you saw a vampire with hair plugs?”

Jo-Jo’s pauses were impeccably timed, and chuckles rippled through the room now. Still, I held my breath.

“You’re not convinced, huh? Well, I’d flash my fangs for you, but they fell out a while back when I accidentally bit into something I shouldn’t have. A rolling pin.”

A snort, some guffaws and giggles.

“See, I was going in to kiss my lady, all romantic-like”—he shifted his feet and reached out on either side of the mike as if to demonstrate an embrace—“when she forcefully reminded me I hadn’t taken out the trash.”

Jo-Jo made a smacked-in-the-kisser face that shifted the crowd’s energy completely into the palm of his comic hand.

“I’m telling you, that woman was serious about her trash day. I tried to find a dentist who’d make dentures with fangs, but no dice. On the bright side, vampire denture cream comes in three full-bodied flavors: mint, cinnamon, and O positive.”

Amid an odd groan or two, the room echoed with laughter.

“You’ve heard about vampire nests, right?” A few in the crowd murmured agreement. “Yeah, they’re sort of like a fraternity with fangs. And coeds. And those female vamps? They make us males put the toilet seats down. In the
men’s
room. I mean, come on. Who died and put females in charge of toilet seats? It wasn’t me.”

Jo-Jo paused while the crowd reacted again. Even Neil’s lips twitched.

“Most vampires have jobs. Did you know that? It’s true. I’m a computer help tech. On the night shift, of course. Some folks think that all night shift techs live in India. I had a call last night from a lady who asked me ten times in three minutes if English was my first language. The next time she asked, I said, ‘No, it’s my eighth, but I’ve been speaking it for two hundred years.’ She hung up on me, and Bill Gates is gonna be pissed when he finds out. He probably won’t send the money he owes me for forwarding all those e-mails.”

Jo-Jo twinkled at the audience, and they loved it.

“To wind up for the night, and to demonstrate my vampire prowess”—he waggled his brows and leered at a giggling group of

women at the table in front of us—“I’m now going to show you a skill I perfected as a court jester. Maestro?”

He looked to his right, and the emcee tossed three neon yellow tennis balls to him.

“The last time I did this trick,” Jo-Jo said, beginning a slow juggle that steadily got faster, “I used swords. Trouble was, I wasn’t used to vampire speed. I sort of impaled a crown prince at the head table and had to vamoose out of town.” He shook his head. “I haven’t hung out with royalty since then. Not until I met St. Augustine’s Cesca Marinelli, that is. Or, as I call her, Princess Ci. Give us a royal wave, Ci.”

A spotlight blasted our table. Neil groaned, Maggie laughed with a few others, and Saber applauded along with the crowd. Me? I slid down in my seat and plotted revenge.

“All right, folks, time for me to do this trick before Princess Ci busts my balls.”

My embarrassment at being singled out melted to amazement when Jo-Jo shifted into vampire gear. The tennis balls suddenly blurred into a yellow halo, as if Jo-Jo were twirling a baton instead of juggling. The audience
ahhhed
, and I felt the room hold its collective breath—even Neil. Then Jo-Jo whooped once, twice, three times, and in another blur of movement, he’d lined the tennis balls at his feet.

He grinned and waved. “Good night, everyone. Hope you enjoyed the show!”

With that, the audience exploded into applause and whistles that lasted so long, Jo-Jo came out for a quick bow before bounding off the stage and heading toward our table.

“Miss Maggie and Mr. Neil, thank you for coming!”

“We enjoyed it, Jo-Jo,” Maggie said. “You did good.”

“Highness, what did you think?” Eagerness and anxiety mixed in his expression. “Was I good enough to do the gig in Daytona?”

“Good? Hell,” a jovial voice boomed from the table behind us, “you’ve got stage presence, charisma, and a gimmick. I’m going to make you the next hottest comic in the country.”

TEN

012

A middle-aged man with a little paunch and a wide grin came forward to shake Jo-Jo’s hand.

“Vince Atlas. I’m a talent agent out of L.A.” Vince passed around business cards, the first to Jo-Jo, then one each to the rest of us.

“Are you already being represented, Jo-Jo?”

Jo-Jo looked as dazed as I felt and shook his head. “No, sir. This is my first night onstage in a long while.”

“I don’t know why. You’re a natural. Perfect timing. Why haven’t you been working?”

Jo-Jo seemed to blush. “I, uh—”

“He came to St. Augustine to get a fresh start,” Saber inserted.

“Well, you’re fresh, all right. There’s not another act like yours in the world, and I know exactly how to capitalize on it. How does that sound?”

“Um, Highness? Saber?”

“Highness?” Vince echoed, his gaze ping-ponging between Jo-Jo and me. “Your Princess Ci is really royalty?”

I shrugged. “Jo-Jo thinks so. If you don’t mind my asking, Mr. Atlas—”

“Call me Vince.”

“—what is a big Hollywood talent agent doing in a little comedy club in St. Augustine?”

“You mean am I legit? I am. You mind if I sit?”

“Here, take our seats,” Maggie said, rising with Neil. “We need to get home. Fine job, Jo-Jo.”

Jo-Jo sank into the last chair, and Vince scooted close.

“I’m serious about representing Jo-Jo. I’ve been an agent for twenty-four years, and you can check my website to see my talent list. As for what I’m doing here, it’s my vacation. The wife got too much sun today and stayed in this evening. I decided to stop in here, and I’m sure glad I did. I gotta tell you, I never expected to find an act like yours.”

“You do get Jo-Jo is a real vampire, right?” Saber asked.

Vince snorted. “With that display of speed? Figured he had to be that or the real Superman. What about it?”

“Jo-Jo can only work nights,” I explained. “He can only travel then, too. Won’t that present problems?”

“Not for most club gigs, but it will for TV.” He frowned. “Please tell me you can be filmed.”

“Yes, sir. Vampires show up on camera.”

“Good, then we can work around the interview appearances I have in mind. You do write your own material, correct?”

Jo-Jo glanced at Saber and me. “I had a little help with the routine I did tonight, but, yes, most of it’s my work.”

“Excellent. I offer a standard contract you can have an attorney review. Don’t have any with me, but I’ll have my secretary fax one tomorrow. Will you be here tomorrow night?”

Jo-Jo shook his head. “I don’t think so, and I don’t know any attorneys.”

“I do,” Saber said.

“So how do I get you a copy of my contract?” Vince asked.

I spoke up. “I’ll come by your hotel tomorrow afternoon to pick up the fax. You can leave it at the front desk if you and your wife will be out.”

Vince nodded. “Fair enough. Now, Jo-Jo, I don’t want to rush you, but if the contract is agreeable, I’d like to sign you before Sunday. The wife and I leave that day.”

“That
is
rushing him,” Saber broke in. “Jo-Jo’s just getting started. What if he wants to contact other agents?”

“Perfectly good question, but that will take time. I’m prepared to have at least two performances lined up for next week. One in Vegas, one in L.A., and I’m reasonably certain I can have Jo-Jo on Leno in a matter of weeks. I have a contact on his staff.”

“Vegas?” Jo-Jo said, brown eyes wide with worship.

“Leno?”
Saber echoed.

“Next week?” I asked. “Jo-Jo would be leaving that soon?”

Vince nodded. “No point in waiting, is there?”

“Well, except that I want to do the show Highness has lined up in Daytona. I can’t cut out on that.”

“When is it?” Vince asked me.

I glanced at Saber, who shrugged.

“It wasn’t a firm date,” I told Vince, “but I’ll call the manager to see if Jo-Jo can perform Saturday. That is, if Jo-Jo wants to accept your offer to represent him.”

“Your Royalness, forgive my familiarity, but it’s Vegas, baby.”

The oddest tightness gripped my chest. “Yep, and Jo-Jo will be in the house.”

I don’t usually phone people after nine in the evening, especially if I don’t know them well. It’s just not polite. But Jo-Jo and Saber insisted I call Donita, and as it turned out, she didn’t mind. She seized the chance to have Jo-Jo do his act at Hot Blooded on Saturday night and said she’d get the advertising rolling.

When I disconnected, Jo-Jo grinned.

“Thank you, Highness. If you and Miss Maggie and Saber here hadn’t encouraged me, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“So you’re going to sign with Vince for sure?” I asked.

“If the contract looks good to Saber’s lawyer friend, I will. Why not?”

“I don’t want you to get taken.”

“Highness. Do you know a human who’d try to take a vamp to the cleaners?”

“Good point, but will you feel comfortable in a new place surrounded by humans you don’t know?”

“I’ll manage. I wonder if Jemina will find out I’m playing Vegas.”

Saber laughed. “You want some payback, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Send her a clipping when you get a rave review.”

“I want her to see me on TV, too. Can you imagine it? Me on
Jay Leno
?” He paused. “I wonder if Vince’ll get me on
Oprah
.”

The reverence in his voice when he said
Oprah
had me imagining a choir of angelic voices singing the name. Was this how I’d sounded to Maggie? Not about Oprah, but had I been that agog when I landed the tour guide job I wanted so badly?

“Just don’t forget the little people when you’re rich and famous,” Saber said. “And do not, under any circumstances, mention that you taught Cesca to fly.”

Jo-Jo blinked. “But I haven’t finished that task yet, and I need to.” He looked at me. “You’re close to being ready to fly on your own, Highness. We just need a few more sessions. Would you like to practice now?”

From Saber’s satisfied expression, he obviously wasn’t going to object. I looked back to Jo-Jo’s eager face.

“Don’t you want to savor your success tonight?”

“I am.”

I glanced at the clock on my desk. Almost midnight. “Don’t you have to go to work soon on the computer help line?”

“I can be a little late. Besides, I’ll have to resign if I’m as busy as Vince says I’ll be.”

I started to ask, “Don’t you want to give me a break?” but I know when not to waste my breath.

As it turned out, I needed every bit of breath I could draw.

Oh, the lessons in the backyard went well enough, even if the ground was still wet and spongy from the tropical storm deluge on Tuesday. I used vamp hearing to be sure Hugh and Selma Lister were really asleep. Judging by the snores I detected coming from two bedrooms, my neighbors were out cold. So was everyone else on the block except for the woman with a new baby who lived on the street behind us.

This night’s flying lesson went a little better than the last one, and Jo-Jo praised my progress. I still couldn’t get the hang of a walking takeoff, but I levitated a few inches higher than before.

I’d just started jump-and-hover practice and was a new personal best of three feet off the ground, when Triton’s voice screamed in my head.

Hit the ground. Now!

Focus shattered. Breath stopped. Time warped.

I fell, my legs folding on impact, and a bullet zinged through the air where I had just hovered to hit the still rain-soaked yard with a spit.

“Sniper! Move!” Saber yelled, his Glock in his hand faster than I could see him draw. Sluggish with shock, I rolled toward the corner of Maggie’s house.

Phfft, spit, phfft, spit.

Second and third shots whizzed close to my head, as Saber fired rounds into the oak tree in Maggie’s front yard, directly over the gate. The acrid smell of gunshots hung in the air.

Then silence.

One beat. Two.

I lay in the dewy grass, trembling with reaction, afraid to move, afraid to stay in the open.

“Cesca,” Saber hissed. “Are you hit?”

I looked up to see him shove Jo-Jo toward my cottage, then duck behind the tiki bar. I also watched lights blink on at every neighbor’s house. My mouth was too dry to speak, so I shook my head.

“The shooter may circle around. Run for it while I cover you.”

I pushed to a crouch, determined that my trembling limbs would hold me. When Saber nodded, I tore across the yard fast enough to leave a contrail and dove through the door Jo-Jo held open. Saber tumbled in behind me. While Jo-Jo huddled on the floor, wild-eyed, Saber grabbed me. I clung to him, shaking so hard I bit my tongue. Then I heard Hugh Lister cursing. Oddly, that bit of normalcy calmed me.

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