Real Vampires Have Curves (5 page)

“I didn't just ‘show up,'
cara.
Magdalena invited me when we met in Roma. And if I want to take the name of my favorite city and that of my dear Leonardo, that is my business, no?”

“No. I mean yes! Your business, nobody else's.” Living with a bunch of vamps who could and would read my mind when they felt like it was going to be a royal pain.

“Sorry,
cara.
I'll leave you in your sexless sack while I go dancing.” Flo flounced to the door. I had to admire that flounce considering she was tottering on four-inch red stilettos that matched her short skirt and halter top. She was any guy's walking wet dream. No wonder Leonardo had painted her over and over again. According to her anyway.

“Wait!” I hurried after her, my gown billowing around me. “Dancing?”

She turned and hugged me again. “Hah! Got you. I'll try not to read your mind. It's not nice of me, I know. But you should learn to block us.” Her eyes twinkled. “I sure don't let anyone read
my
mind.”

When she was right, she was right. Maybe I'd been so busy blending and hanging with mortals, that I'd become lazy when it came to using my vamp powers. And hanging with mortals had a downside. You see them get sick, die even. And while some vamps can turn a mortal without blinking an eye—hey, look what Blade did to me—I just
can't.

Forever is forever, you know? Mortals don't have a clue what that really means. I was on a headlong slide into depression and realized Flo was giving me a sympathetic look. Of course, she'd gotten all that “Woe is me” crap.

“What's this about dancing?”

“We're making Freddy and Derek take us out, to show you a little of Austin's night life.”

“You don't have to ask me twice. Twenty minutes. Okay?”

Flo looked me over. “Take thirty,
cara.
You
do
have something sexier in that bag of yours, don't you? Frederick brought in your suitcase. The big black one.”

I was mentally unpacking. Jeans, T-shirts. Was there anything in there that didn't make me look fat?

“You are
not
fat.” Before I could do more than squeak, Flo grabbed my gown, whisked it off over my head and dropped it on the floor. “I'll quit reading your mind tomorrow. If I don't forget.” She took me by the shoulders and turned me around. “You have curves, Glory. Leonardo would have painted you nude, reclining on a velvet couch.” She tapped her chin. “Oh, no, that wasn't Leo, that was my darling Pietro Rubens. I
do
love artists.”

“Hello, I'm standing here naked while you're strolling down memory lane.”

Flo laughed and tossed me my gown. “Be proud of your body,
cara.
You have the shape of a real woman. I myself have posed many, many times. The Mona Lisa. Pah! How can Leo be famous for that when he did so many lovely pictures of
me
? I am even sitting next to you know who in his painting of The Last Supper.”

“You know anything about a secret code?” I couldn't help it. I read best sellers.

“Forget codes.
I
should be hanging in the Louvre. That Lisa. A peasant.” Flo spit into her palm and shot what must be the Italian bird. “And that secret smile? I happen to know it was because
she
was really a
he
!”

I just gaped.

“Hurry and get dressed. Look sexy.” Flo gave me a finger wave and headed down the hall.

I put it in gear, eager to get out and see more of my new hometown. Florence never failed to surprise me. Some vamps swear she's not exactly the brightest bulb in the lamp, but I don't believe it. She's clever enough to get vamps all over the world to take turns providing a home for her. Not just because she's ancient, but because everyone loves her
and
her stories.

Tonight's chapter had been a doozy. She's always sworn that Leonardo da Vinci had been vampire and her lover. Can you believe that? Even though Freddy's heard old Leo swung the other way. Flo also claims a monk assassin staked dear Leonardo because of his blasphemies in painting The Last Supper. Too bad Flo never bothered to learn to read or write. She has a best seller in her for sure.

An hour later we were on Sixth Street in downtown Austin checking out the club scene. It was crowded on a Saturday night. We'd left Valdez fighting off Sheba. As Freddy had said, safety in numbers.

I'd dressed in black, slimming of course, with a lacy top that showed some cleavage, always a crowd pleaser. Flo had actually approved after she'd thrown a black and red floral shawl over my shoulders. But now she'd disappeared, merrily following a fellow vamp into a jazz club.

“Don't worry about her, she'll be fine. In fact, she'll probably have to take care of Trevor. You think you've got a sense of smell. Flo can smell emotions. Fear, hate, love. Any hunters out there and she'll be the first to detect them.”

“Good to know.” Hard to see why she'd hang out with a loser like Trevor Danforth though. I'd met him a few moments before. I don't know what emotion Flo had detected from him, but I couldn't forget the smell of fresh blood that had hung around him. Obviously he'd been feeding, and so early in the evening. “Why would she have to take care of Trevor?”

“He's an alcoholic, Glory.” Derek was on one side of me, Freddy on the other. Other women looked at me with envy. If they only knew my two handsome men dressed in yummy butt-hugging denim had eyes only for each other. Bummer.

“How can a vampire be an alcoholic?” We'd stopped in front of a club with country music booming out of the open door. “All of the ones I've met say they can't drink alcohol without getting sick. I only tried it once and thought I was going to die.” You think mortals get hangovers? Try a six day death wish.

“He only feeds when the clubs are closing, or he sees a drunk leaving a club early. That must be what happened tonight.” Derek shook his head. “The higher the blood alcohol level, the better for old Trev.”

“You're kidding.” I wracked my brain. Had I ever fed from a drunk? “Maybe you'd get a buzz, but I'd still worry about a hangover.” “Cotton-Eyed Joe” started inside.

“Trev doesn't worry about hangovers when he's getting a double whammy. A vicarious high.” Derek noticed my toe tapping to the beat of the music. “Forget Trevor. We promised you dancing. How's this?”

“Perfect. I'm
so
ready for a cowboy.” I pulled them both inside. “Both of you will dance with me, not with each other. In here I think that would get you beat up. But we'll have a signal. If a good looking cowboy asks me to dance and I want to, I'll say ‘Beat it, boys.' ”

“That's a signal?” Freddy laughed and shouldered us through the crowd. “Obviously you're not into subtle.”

“Nope.” I scanned the room as we found a table near the dance floor. Fortunately the few waitresses seemed overwhelmed and no one asked for a drink order. I can drink things other than Bloody Merrys as long as they aren't alcoholic, but I wasn't here to drink. The bass was vibrating through my body and I was looking for Mr. Right Now.

Derek pulled me up and onto the dance floor and we twirled into a two step. The man could certainly dance. After a few minutes, the lights dimmed and the song slowed to a sexy ballad. Tim McGraw. What a waste.

I led Derek toward our table. Freddy had been joined by a cowboy. They stood with their backs to us. Nice broad back on Mr. Cowboy. Snug well-worn jeans, black Stetson and boots. He was tall, built and just what I'd been looking for.

“Dance, Cowboy?” I asked, putting my hand on his arm. Then he turned around, covering my hand with his. Blade. Damn it to hell.

“Dance? Sure, babe.”

He pulled me onto the dance floor and into his arms. Chest to chest, thigh to thigh. Blade held me tight, his cheek against my hair and I didn't bother to pretend it didn't feel good. We moved to the music and, with my eyes closed, I could relax and lean into him. Solid. Strong.

“You look good.”
The words drifted into my mind just as Blade leaned down to press his lips to my neck. Right over the old jugular. Naturally that's a vamp hot spot and I felt his mouth on me clear down to my toes. My nipples sprang to attention and my body screamed “Come and get me.”

No. No. No. I leaned back and looked up. He hadn't missed the Glory hallelujah reaction. He was grinning and looking so much like a real cowboy that my heart squeezed. Time for a distraction. I wasn't ready to climb back on
this
horse just yet.

“What's with the cowboy look?”

“I'm blending. What do you think?” He rubbed my back.

“I think you couldn't blend if your life depended on it.” Oh, great. His life
did
depend on it. Mouth to brain— be nice.

“Maybe you could give me lessons. On how to blend.” He looked around. “I thought I was doing all right.” For once he didn't sound completely sure of himself. And didn't that fire me up even more?

“You are. Really. And I love the hat.” My inner slut slipped my hand inside his back pocket. I've always loved his nice firm butt. “So why are you
here
blending? I thought you were in Lake Charles with Mara and your state-of-the-art security.”

“I wanted to check on you. I left Mara there.”

Glory one, Mara zip. As if this was a contest. I basked in Blade's concern for a moment. Whoa. “Check on me? Like I'm not capable of looking out for myself?”

“Here we go again.” Blade tightened his hand on my waist. “For once, lass, can we no' just enjoy the moment?”

He'd brought out the big guns. He knows I'm a sucker for the Scottish accent. And I actually was a little blown away. I never dreamed he'd seek me out again so soon after I'd turned him down in the desert.

“Enjoy the moment. Fine. But we need to talk, Jerry.”

“Jeremiah, lass. Och, but I've missed your fire.”

“Hmmm.” What could I say? Fire? Right now I was a four alarm. Blame it on my long dry spell, but if we'd been alone I might have shown Jerry some fire works. We'd always clicked in bed and he wasn't even put off by my thunder thighs.

How do I know? When we're making love, Jerry lets me into his thoughts. Talk about erotic. In their heads, men get pretty graphic, but they
love
the female body. When they're getting lucky, they're grateful and very appreciative. You might say “blinded by passion.” Cool, huh?

I knew he was reading me. He slid his hand down to my butt and pulled me closer. And we danced. Even got two slow ones before the pace picked up and the lights brightened. Jerry led me back to the table where Derek and Freddy were talking.

“Let's go outside.” Blade issued his order then guided, no, pushed me toward the door with his hand on my back. Naturally Derek and Freddy followed.

“Jeez, who died and put you in charge?” What had I just said? I had to get a grip on my big mouth. Blade's face hardened and he just looked at me. And let me see his grief for Mac. Dark, bottomless, the loss of the brother of his heart. And all his fault. If he'd only—

“Stop it!” I grabbed his hand and held on. “You are
not
responsible for Mac's death. Westwood is.”

“I should have sensed the danger sooner. Mac and Mara were there visiting
me.
” Blade squeezed my hand. “I'll not lose you, too, dearling.”

Derek and Freddy were watching us. Freddy, for sure, was picking up on my chaotic thoughts, though no one could read Blade unless he let them in.

“Come home with me, Gloriana. I'll keep you safe or die trying.”

I shuddered at that promise. I didn't doubt he meant every word.

“No freaking way.” I grabbed his arm. “You mean well. I get that. Look at me, Jerry.” His dark eyes met mine. “Read my mind, my heart. Whatever.” I saw his jaw tighten.

“I have plans, Jerry. A life that doesn't include cowering inside a damned casino while you throw yourself in front of me to catch arrows in your chest.” The world swirled around me for a moment and I wobbled on my high heels. Blade caught me, holding me tight against his side. I took a breath and pushed away from him, relieved that I was steady again.

“Believe me. I can take care of myself. And, if I do need help, I have friends here.”

“She's right, Blade. We're perfectly capable of protecting her and she's opening a store here.” Derek. Who'd obviously not been around Blade enough to realize he didn't exactly welcome interference.

“I'm sure you
think
you can protect her, Derek”—Blade swept him with a dismissive look—“when you're not trolling for students, that is.” He locked eyes with Freddy. “Frederick, I'll talk to you later. Gloriana and I need to be alone.”

Freddy, the coward, the deserter, the first-class chump, merely nodded. “You have a place to stay?”

“Aye.”

And Freddy took off, dragging Derek with him. Just like that.

“What if I don't
want
to be alone with you?”

Blade leaned down and kissed my lips, slowly, thoroughly, sliding just the tip of a fang across them until I was damp and dizzy.

“Come along, sweetheart. I need you.”

Hmmm. And didn't I need him? For comfort. Old time's sake. Satisfaction guaranteed. I could go on and on. Could you blame me if I followed him meekly to a silver Mercedes convertible parked at the curb?

“Nice car.” Good. Despite a lust-fogged brain, I could at least speak again.

“I thought you'd like it. It's yours.”

“Mine?” I determinedly squelched the urge to happy dance. The price of independence—do not accept expensive gifts even though he'd obviously read my mind and bought my dream car.