"You didn't!" Diana gasped.
"Vampires need to go to the source, not settle for nonsense like this Bloodthirsty," Mag sniffed. "I find it hard to believe Igor is involved in such an enterprise. He owns many companies, but this sounds common." Mag glanced at me, like that was about what she'd expect from a mere shopkeeper.
"Ma, I think we should go." Even Jerry had noticed Mara's interest in filling her shopping bag with extras. "Glory, would you bill me for any extra items that"-he glanced at Mara-"you know."
"Sure, Jerry. And call me later. We'll talk about costumes." I removed Mara's hand from an earring display and walked her to the door. "Perhaps we should go as Romeo and Juliet."
Mag gasped. "Really, Gloriana, don't you know that couple came to a bad end?"
Diana to the rescue. "Lady Campbell, I'm sure you have excellent taste. What would you suggest for appropriate costumes?
Damian and I have been trying to decide what to wear. Not that we're a couple. Just good friends supporting one of Prince Igor's worthy causes." She held the door for Mag, winking at me just before the door closed. Diana lost points with Mag though, just outside. I heard Diana squeal and sounds of a scuffle. Apparently Randolph had stuck his head out of Mag's tote, and Diana thought rats had invaded the building. You can understand how the owner of a food establishment would want to rid the area of such a pest. Diana's pretty wicked with a purse and her right arm. Fortunately, Randolph's immortal, with remarkable healing powers. But Diana will have to grovel some to get back into Mag's good graces. I breathed a sigh of relief when the Campbell party finally drove off. At least the end result didn't seem too bad. Winter Solstice Ball first, Paris next. And Jerry and I could celebrate his birthday privately. Just the way we liked it. With visions of Mother Campbell flying like a bat out of hell (literally) across the Atlantic, I headed upstairs an hour before dawn and sacked out early. A good thing I got an extra hour's rest, because I was sure going to need it. Thirteen
When I woke up at sunset, I knew something was off. For one thing Valdez was grinning at me from the foot of the bed. He's usually not all that cheerful after a day of guard duty. Not that I figure he's awake all day. But he likes me to think he's suffering on some kind of high alert from dawn to dusk.
"She's really done it this time."
"Who?"
"Lucky. Who else has been a pain in your backside since the moment we found her?"
"What did she do?" I sat up and pushed my hair out of my eyes. That's when I realized I wasn't alone in the bed. "Holy crap! Who the hell is this?"
"Don't know."
"Dead or alive?"
"In between. I don't think he's dangerous right now or I'd have already chewed his ass." And what an ass. Muscular, tanned and toned to perfection. Male, very male. This was a guy who obviously had a private beach or a pool somewhere and loved the sun. Long legs with a pair of slim feet attached that shouldn't have crawled into my bed without a wash. But back to that ass . . . And up to a trim waist, broad shoulders and a tangle of black hair worn longer than most guys I know. I couldn't see his face. He was sprawled out and turned away from me, that beautiful hair in the way. I started to just crawl over there and take a peek. Hmm. Not just yet.
"How did he get here? I know I went to bed alone." I sniffed. Definitely vampire and vaguely familiar in a creepy, gag-me sort of way. "Vampires don't sleepwalk. And he'd have fried anyway unless he came from somewhere in the building." That undead thing, you know.
"I told ya, this is Lucky's doin'. A special delivery." Valdez jumped off the bed and picked up an envelope with his teeth. He dropped it in my lap. "Here's a love note to go with it."
"Screw that. Lucky's not going to just dump a body in my bed and get away with it." A hot body, but that was beside the point. I tore my eyes away from those world-class buns and ripped open the envelope. Hotel stationery and, oh, clever, a few droplets of blood as decoration. I showed it to Valdez.
"Is Lucky a cliché or what?"
"Just read it, Glory." Valdez settled on the foot of the bed again. "Her goons had him all wrapped up in some kind of special silver thermal material. Sun resistant. Said they got it at a sporting goods store. Seemed real proud that they'd thought of it. Dumb jocks." Valdez snorted.
"Not so dumb. It worked, didn't it?" I was back to bum staring.
"Yeah, well, they brought him in. Stripped off his clothes, what there were of them, tossed them in the living room, then dumped the guy in bed with you. I gave them hell. I did. One will be walking with a limp, I promise you that. But it was two against one. No, make that three. Beth was with them. Not that she did much but wring her hands and try to talk them out of it."
"Beth, you mean Brittany." I gave Valdez a hard look. "And you two used to be together?"
"Yeah, well. Ancient history. She dumped me. But she was just following Lucky's orders this time. I didn't want to get her fired. Remember, Glory, she's a working stiff just like I am. She already made one mistake when Lucky got attacked, so she's got to be careful. She was sticking her neck out by making an effort to stop this."
"Sounds like she just made another mistake if she took off and left Lucky unguarded to come over here with the goons."
"Oh, there are more goons. Four in all. Old man Carvarelli sent a damned army to watch over his little girl." Valdez nudged the letter. "You ever gonna read this thing?"
"Yeah, yeah." I was steamed. "How cowardly can you get? Sending me a 'package' after I'm dead to the world." Well, naked-guy package. Maybe Lucky thought she was doing me a favor, assuming Naked Guy woke up happy to be here. I looked down at the letter again. Blood. Not a good sign.
"Okay, I'll read this out loud, and we'll both see what we're up against. 'Dear Glory.' " At least she was finally consistently remembering my name. " 'I'm sure you'll recognize Israel Caine.' " I looked up at Valdez. We both jumped to the other side of the bed. I grabbed that dark hair and pulled it aside. "Holy shit, it really is him."
"Flo's going to go ape wild."
" I'm going to go ape wild." I sighed, then sighed again. Now that I had a clue, I noticed his trademark tattoos, a star of David on his right bicep, a Celtic cross on his left. Not only was I hooked on his music, but I'd read about the world-famous rock star in a fanzine. Israeli mother, father who was Jewish too but had emigrated to Ireland and started passing himself off as Irish. Parents always at odds with each other. His dad had been a singer himself, out on tour when baby Ray (his nickname) had been born in Dublin.
Mom had gotten even with Dad by hanging the name on him and having a rabbi on hand with the whole circumcision thing before Daddy was even told the baby'd been born. Messy divorce followed. At least that's what the magazine claimed. I fought the urge to smooth the tangle of hair, imagining the little boy in the middle of parental wars.
Israel Caine, Ray to his friends. The guy was every woman's fantasy. Including mine. He sang sexy love songs like he was singing just to you, making love to you with his music. Flo and I were absolutely addicted. When we'd heard he was giving a concert here in Austin, we'd gone nuts. That concert was-oh, shit-tonight!
"Okay, I can handle this. Israel Caine is in my bed. Fine. He'll wake up, run out of here, and I'll never see him again. Where's my camera phone? We should get a picture of this."
"Yeah. Strip off and we can pretend you did the big nasty with him. Torment Flo with it when she gets home." Valdez jumped off the bed, then on again. He was almost as excited as I was. I figure he's a fan too, despite all his whining when we play the CDs over and over.
Okay, I'm one sick puppy because I actually considered it, posing, pretending we'd-I froze, then fell over, burying my nose in Ray's silky hair.
"Glory, cut the crap and read the letter."
"No, Valdez, you don't get it." Oh, God, this was a disaster. No, worse. I put my hand on Ray's back, tears in my eyes. Lucky had a lot to answer for. Israel Caine was an institution, for God's sake, worshiped by millions of women, especially when he sang a slow love song. Even men loved his hard-hitting rock and strong, masculine vibe.
"Would you tell me what the hell you're talking about?"
I took a steadying breath and almost sobbed. "Israel Caine, the star of my fantasies when I can't get there any other way-" Valdez woofed. "Okay, I'll get to the point. Israel's now a freakin' vampire."
Valdez stuck his nose in Ray's face to take his own whiff. "Damn Lucky Carver. She's really done it this time. And stuck us with him. Read the letter. I want to know why."
I pushed myself up and wiped my eyes. "Yeah, me too." I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose. Israel still hadn't moved. I touched his cheek. Cool but probably just normal new-vampire temperature. He was bound to wake up soon and then all hell would break loose. I couldn't even begin to imagine it. I crawled back to my side of the bed and picked up the letter.
" 'Israel and I had an affair years ago. I thought we were in love and I really helped his career. I was older than he was and had a lot of connections in the music biz. He was only eighteen and just getting started." I looked at Valdez. "Poor Ray. Good-looking kid, and Lucky 'helped' him right into her bed. Forget the fact that he had talent."
"Hey, stuff like that happens. The kid was probably grateful at the time. Lucky's a good-lookin' woman. Read on." I gave Valdez an eye roll and went back to the letter. " 'As soon as he had his first hit song, he dumped me. I never forgot it. I promised myself I would get even some day.' "
Valdez was up and pacing. "Even? Okay. So sex him one more time then dump his ass. Slash his tires. Even a little sugar in his gas tank. But turning him vampire ? Jeez, Glory. Lucky's a nutjob."