Real Vampires Live Large (21 page)

“Perfect. Don't forget to mention the address at least three times. So people will remember it.”

“Right.” I took a breath, stepped out and ran straight into Donna.

“Ms. St. Clair, please stand over here.” Donna had powdered her own nose and slipped on a green silk blazer. “We've already taken some shots around the store and I filmed my intro outside. We'll put it all together later.” She nodded to the cameraman and turned to look at me. I almost ran out of the store when I saw her thoughts.

Fourteen

"We're here with Gloriana St. Clair, owner of Vintage Vamp's Emporium. If you remember our previous report several weeks ago, this shop was practically destroyed in a fire that the Austin fire department has determined was arson. Unfortunately there have been no arrests in the case.” The microphone shifted to me. “Gloriana, we're glad to see you've reopened.”

“Thank you, Donna.” I braced myself because I could see what was coming. “It wasn't easy, but I'm glad to say it's business as usual at Vintage Vamp's Emporium, your vintage clothing store in the heart of historic Sixth Street.” I smiled and kept smiling. Yeah, I sounded like a commercial and why not? I was about to be ambushed and putting Donna under the whammy wasn't an option, not with a crowd of interested shoppers looking on.

“You've certainly made your shop unique. Right now we're standing in front of a mural your partner painted on one wall inside your shop, a painting of a vampire attacking a man. Are you sending a message?” She thrust her microphone under my mouth, this time close enough to bite in two. And don't think I wasn't tempted.

“No, I mean, it's art.”

“I'm sure everyone recognizes
The Scream
by Edvard Munch. And he also painted
Vampire
, though it's not as well known. Aren't you implying that the store's name has a special meaning? Exactly what
is
a vintage vamp?”

That damned microphone was in my face again. I'd love to yell “Cut” and cancel the whole deal. But there's no such thing as bad publicity, right?

“Donna, I'm into fashion history. A vamp was a hottie back in the roaring twenties. Do you really think I believe in vampires?” I laughed, what else could I do? “Give me a break. Fangs? Blood sucking?” I shuddered. “I know it's a popular theme in fiction.” I nodded at the mural. “And art. But this is just a vintage clothing store.” I looked directly at the camera and grinned like an idiot. Then I got a whiff of the cameraman. AB negative. Oh, God, my fangs!

“Rat! I see a rat!” Someone, I swear it was Will, screamed. Valdez and Will started barking like maniacs and racing around the shop, knocking the cameraman down and starting a general stampede for the door. Donna dropped the microphone and, when she scrambled to pick it up, Valdez head butted her into a rack of vintage hats. Donna shrieked and landed face first on a black straw with a wide brim. She came up spitting ostrich feathers.

“Oh, no! I'm so sorry.” I had the fangs well under control now and helped Donna to her feet. I sent the dogs a mental message to cool it. “Give me a minute to lock up my pets. There is no way anyone saw a rat, I had the exterminator in just last week.” Truth. I have this thing about bugs. Go figure.

“Dogs in a clothing store. Is that really a good idea?” Donna brushed off her skirt. She was one tough lady, the rat thing hadn't even phased her. “Where's the nearest mirror?”

“Dressing room. The dogs are friendly and sleep through most of the night while I'm working.” I smiled and patted Valdez when he sat beside me. “Most customers appreciate our animal friendly policy.” I was on solid ground here. Austin is full of animal rights activists. If Donna tried to criticize my pets on the air, she'd have backlash on her hands.

She nodded thoughtfully. “Let me think about whether I got enough or not. Get some more shots of that mural. Sorry, Ms. St. Clair, but a story's a story. People will groove on the vampire angle.”

I glared as she headed for the dressing room, plucking feathers out of her hair.

“Excitement's over, folks. No rat, I promise. Will! Drop that!” The dog looked innocent, but he had something in his mouth.

“Christ! That's the connector wire to the lights.” Danny the cameraman tried to snatch the wire, but Will growled and wouldn't let go.

“Oh, no! Will it shock him? If my dog gets hurt, who do I sue?” I gestured and Will dropped the slimy cable.

The cameraman wasn't worried about slime. He grabbed it, looked it over, then wiped it on his jeans. “No harm done. I don't see how it could hurt the dog. But I'm not taking any more pictures in here.”

Will groaned, gasped and rolled over, his feet quivering straight up in the air. It was a pretty good imitation of death throes.

“Oh, my God! You've killed him.” I clasped Will to my breasts. “Sweet Willy. Come back to me.” I felt a wet tongue trace my cleavage and pushed him away. “Someone help.”

“Of course, Gloriana.” Damian stepped over Will, limp on the carpet. “What can I do?” He gave the cameraman a hard look.

“Mouth to mouth?” It was all I could do not to crack up at Damian's look of horror. Valdez solved the problem by jumping on Will's stomach, his back feet landing solidly on . . . you know. The dog screamed—tough to explain that one—and jumped up to run to the back room.

“He lives!” I clasped my hands to my chest, wiping away dog spit. The few customers left burst into applause, including a woman still standing on a Morris chair, her eyes peeled for rats. “Twenty-five percent off everything!” The woman climbed down and hurried over to the purses. I understood. A sale is a sale.

Donna was out of the dressing room, her blazer over her arm. “Let's go, Danny. We've got enough here.”

“No kidding.” Danny was busily packing up his equipment.

Damian picked up the hat rack while I gathered up hats and stacked them on the counter.

I could have used the publicity if Donna had played it straight with me, but putting the vampire thing out there? No thanks. This wasn't the first time I wondered if I'd been a little too cute with the name for my shop. I didn't try to stop the reporter when she left without a backward glance.

Damian took me aside. “Now that the entertainment's over, I'm going to look for my sister. I left a message that you were going to be interviewed for TV, but she didn't call back. She wouldn't miss an opportunity to show off her painting to all of Austin unless something was wrong.”

I put my hand on his arm. “I doubt she's even checked her voice mail, Damian. If she's with a lover . . .”

“You're probably right. But if he's an EV, she's in over her head. You're a good friend to her, Glory. Thanks for telling me about this.” Damian covered my hand with his and gave me one of his intense looks.

I'd relaxed my block, but now I tightened up because Damian was looking better and better to me. I glanced around the shop, like I had things to do. Which I did, truth be told. Stick a dozen hats back on the rack. Help that customer find her size in vintage sweaters. Get the hell away from Damian.

“I'll check in with you later.” With that Damian left and I let the dogs out of the back room. I sent Lacy home and settled in for the rest of the night.

I murmured reassurances when one of the customers who'd witnessed the recent chaos gave them a wide berth. I waited on a few customers, including the lady who was happy she hadn't actually
seen
a rat and ecstatic that she'd gotten such a deal on two vintage Gucci bags.

I tried to call Flo and got her voice mail too. So I left my message about the shoes and hung up. The store was empty and the dogs snoozing when my cell phone rang. I grabbed it in case it was Flo, but the caller ID let me know it was Blade. I was happy to talk to him and spent a few minutes telling him about my TV experience. An edited version, but I had him laughing anyway.

“Sounds like Will helped you out in dramatic fashion. Maybe now you'll forgive me for saddling you with him.” Blade's voice was low and sexy and I suddenly wanted to wrap my legs around him and make him growl with hunger.

“Maybe.” I took a breath. Fresh paint, moth balls from some of the clothing and dog. “Jerry, I miss you.” I meant it. I missed his smell, his warmth, his strength. And, yeah, his ever ready lust for me. While I like being in charge of my own life, it was nice to have someone I could always count on to care what happened to me.

“I miss you too.”

“Is Mara there with you?”

“No, she's watching Westwood's compound. We're afraid he may have skipped out on us. He's flown in doctors to work on his arm, but he may have left to get further medical treatment.” Jerry didn't laugh, but I could hear the satisfaction in his voice.

“You really got him good then.” Halloween. Jerry's lethal with a knife, and should have finished the hunter then. He'd let my own antics distract him and Jerry still beat himself up for not killing the bastard when he had the chance.

“We've heard his men talking. Westwood will never pull on a bow again.”

“Aw gee. Give me a minute while my heart bleeds.” Westwood's olive wood arrows had taken out more than one vampire. Like we're big game or something. Then there's the fangs he takes as a trophy. Obviously Westwood is one brick short of a load.

“I won't let him get away this time.”

I'd heard this all before. Hey, I understood. The creep had killed Jerry's best friend right in front of him. I noticed Will's ears twitching. He was obviously tuned in to our conversation despite closed eyes.

“But if Westwood's left the country, what will you do?”

“Follow him. He's a dead man.”

I headed into the back room and closed and locked the door. I would hear the bells on the outside door if a customer came in.

Warrior Blade really did it for me, but Westwood wasn't your ordinary opponent. He had billions at his disposal from his computer empire. And technology. His technology scared the hell out of me. I didn't say that. It would just stir up Blade's macho “I'll show you who's stronger” instincts. Instead, I settled for a warning.

“Don't forget how dangerous Westwood is. He's got all this equipment. And he hates you. Not just because you're vampire either. You bested him on Halloween.”

“No,
he
bested
me
. He got away.”

“I know you feel like you owe MacTavish this—”

“I owe all vampires Westwood's total destruction. If he starts producing his vampire detectors and sells them to every would-be fang hunter, none of us will be safe, Gloriana. ”

“You're right. At least his injury has kept him out of commission. And Derek's been monitoring the Internet. If any vamp detectors come on the market, we'll know about it.” Leave it to a techno-freak like Westwood to figure out how to spot a vampire and put it into something resembling a cell phone. So, no matter how cute I dressed or normal I seemed I couldn't blend enough to avoid detection.

“Promise me you'll be careful, Jerry.”

“I'm being careful. Too damned careful. I want to settle this once and for all. If he's really moved on . . .”

“Speaking of moving on . . . Are we actually alone right now?” I'd had enough of this angst over a problem I sure had no way of solving. And Jerry needed a break. I could hear the tension in his voice. He needed to relieve some stress or he might do something crazy, like storm Westwood's compound. Or jump Mara's way too beautiful bones.

“I'm alone. Why? Do we need privacy?”

“It would probably be a good idea.” I smiled into the phone. “I'm taking off my skirt. You take off something.”

“Is this phone sex?”

“Why not?” I couldn't hear the smile in his voice yet. It made me even more determined to wipe the thought of Westwood out of Jerry's head for a few minutes. And the memories of the hunter's sleazy call out of mine. How better than to replace them with new and improved memories with a man who made me melt just hearing his deep, sexy voice?

“I kicked off my shoes, Gloriana.”

“Aw, no good. I want to see some skin. Take off your shirt.” I did drop my skirt to the floor and kicked off my slingbacks. If any customers came in at three thirty in the morning, the dogs would warn me. For once I hoped I didn't have any business for a while. I wanted to find out just how hot phone sex could be with the right man.

“My shirt just hit the wall. Take off yours. What color is it?”

“Red. And I'm not wearing a bra.” I tossed the shirt on a chair. “Mmm. It's a little chilly in here. My nipples are all pointy and tingling. I'm warming them with my hands.”

“God, Gloriana. What kind of panties are you wearing?” Jerry groaned and I knew I had him revved up. Good.

“Black thong. Oops. I
was
wearing a black thong.” I sighed. “Now all I'm wearing are my earrings. Are you naked yet?”

Silence. One thousand one, one thousand two . . .

“Yes.” There was that growl I loved so much.

“Are you touching yourself like I'm touching myself?” Who was I kidding? Blade was a man. He probably touched himself when deciding whether to wear the black or brown socks.

“No, I'm touching
you
. Can you feel me, Glory?”

I gasped. Impossible. He was thousands of miles away. He couldn't possibly . . . But I swear those were his fingers, not mine stroking me. My body wept for him and I quivered from the inside out.

“Now I'm laying you on that big table in your workroom and kissing the curls between your legs. Open for me, sweetheart. That's right. Now my tongue dips inside you, tasting your honey. Delicious.”