“Any idea what happened, Ms. . . . ?”
“Gloriana St. Clair.” I hitched my slipping blanket up on my shoulders. My wet hair dripped into my eyes. I was damned mad and looking pitiful worked for me right now. Valdez pressed himself against my legs and looked up at me soulfully. “We all work night shifts, so my dog here helped wake us up.” I patted him on the head and he showed his teeth in a doggy grin. “Someone did this on purpose.”
“Are you saying this was arson?” The reporter was all business now, gesturing at the cameraman so he could pan to the broken and blackened windows.
“Absolutely.” I looked directly at the camera when it was aimed at me again. “And I want to put whoever did this on notice. I
will reopen. I will not just disappear.”
“Gee, you make this sound like a hate crime. Are you, um, a minority?”
Blond, blue-eyed white girl a minority? I smiled and read the reporter ’s mind. Hmm. I could set her straight, ha-ha, but why bother?
“I’m a woman, trying to support myself. Some people”— maybe I was digging a hole here—“don’t like independence or people who are different.”
The reporter thrust the microphone at Flo who had somehow managed to pull her hair back into a chic ponytail, her sheet now a toga that Julius Caesar himself had probably taught her how to wrap.
“Are you Ms. St. Clair’s partner?”
Flo grinned, obviously reading the reporter’s mind too.
“Glory and I haven’t been together long”—she linked her arm through mine—“and the business is all hers. Me, I’m into new. I have a wonderful shoe collection, spared by the fire, thank God. I just hope Glory’s business survives this.” Flo actually kissed my cheek and I swear I jumped a foot.
“We’re not—”
“Hush, Glory. Let me tell Donna about my shoes.” Flo began rattling off designer names until the reporter’s eyes glazed and she signaled the cameraman to cut.
“I think we have enough. Excuse me, I see an arson investigator has arrived. Good luck with your business, Ms. St. Clair. Here’s my card. If you need to contact me for a follow-up.”
Follow-up. I took one more long look at my shop, shook my head then went inside the apartment building. The halls were wet and the smell of smoke made my nose run and my eyes sting. I climbed the stairs, then stepped over the door Valdez had knocked down to get me out. The frame was broken, the locks shattered. I felt him beside me.
“You really are a hero, Valdez.” I dropped to my knees and buried my face in his damp fur. Oh, great. Now I cried. I held onto him and felt Flo patting my back. I know blood -sucking vampires are supposed to be tough, but we’re still human, sort of. We have feelings. I swear sometimes I think if I didn’t have bad luck I’d have no luck at all. Three
"Gloriana, sweetheart. Och now, don’t cry.”
I was gently lifted off of Valdez and wrapped in strong masculine arms. Definitely an improvement over smoke -tinged dog fur. And don’t you love the Scottish thing? I’ve always had a weakness for it.
“Blade.” I sagged against him, for once glad of his need to take care of me. When I ’d first met Jeremiah Campbell, I was attracted to his take-charge attitude. Hey, it was 1604. That’s what men did back then. I closed my eyes and inhaled. Jerry smelled of male and midnight. One whiff and I was right back at the Globe and the early days of hot sex and his promise of “I’ll be here for you forever.” It was all I could do not to wrap my legs around his waist and beg him to take me. I got a grip. Barely. We’re friends now, sometimes lovers, but I couldn’t or wouldn’t just relapse into a quivering mass of female insecurities around him.
“Did you see my shop?” I looked up and saw his teeth clench.
“What was left of it.” His arms tightened around me. “Damn Westwood. I’ll find him and rip his throat out. Tear him apart. There won’t be enough left of him to interest carrion. He’ll pay for this, Gloriana.”
“What if he didn’t do it?” I wiped at my eyes, then leaned against his hard chest for a moment longer.
“Who else?”
“I don’t know. I’ve had headaches. And a voice in my head. Menacing.” I looked up at Blade who was glaring at Valdez. Obviously the dog hadn’t mentioned this in his reports. Yeah, he’s Jerry’s furry spy.
“A voice? What the hell is this?”
“Forget it. Had to be Westwood. The voice has to be another vampire—” I heard Jerry’s chest rumble. Had he growled?
“Come on, Jerry. A vampire wouldn’t burn up another one. Plus it was daylight.”
“With enough hatred, some would hire it done.” Jerry put me from him. “I can’t imagine you with such an enemy, but tell me more.”
I sank down on the couch. “Not now. I’ve had a rough night. And quit giving Valdez the evil eye. If it hadn’t been for this dog—
” My voice broke. Burned in my sleep. The end. No encores. Hey, I’d decided to be immortal, I damned well intended to keep on keeping on.
“Yeah, I really earned my Twinkies today. Dragging four vampires all the way to the roof, up lots of stairs. And I had to knock down doors with double dead bolts.” Valdez paused for a weary breath. Oh, yeah, he was pouring on the drama.
“Except for Florence, none of them was exactly a lightweight if you know what I mean.” Valdez bumped my leg with his nose. “Someone promised to buy me Cheetos.”
Jerry pulled me up to hug me again, before he settled me back on the couch. “Valdez, you’ve gone a long way toward earning your freedom. But if you ever withhold information again—”
“No way, boss. I was gonna tell you if somebody actually made a move on Glory. Hey, it was just a voice. I never saw
anybody.” Valdez laid his head on my knee. “Glory knows I’ve got her back.”
Jerry frowned, then turned to pick up the door and lean it against the wall. I watched his muscles bulge under his black sweater. Black sweater, dark jeans, black loafers. With his dark eyes and hair, Jerry had the vamp look going on. Not that a mortal would see him that way. All they’d see was a handsome man in his prime. Jerry always could light my fire, and I was feeling an urge to reaffirm life if you know what I mean.
“I heard the fireman tell you to evacuate.” Jerry turned back to me. “Come home with me, Glory. Let me take care of you.”
I had my mouth open to say hell yes when Flo emerged from her bedroom. She was dressed in one of her favorite outfits. I won’t describe it, just know it was cut down to there and up to here. And black. She wore red heels, her current favorites. If we were hosting a cocktail party, she was good to go. She was cradling a pair of Manolo stilettos.
“My poor babies. They have survived, but stink of smoke. So do I.” She sighed and stroked the shoes. “I am devastated.”
“You’ll come home with me, Florence. I have a steam shower that will set you to rights. Sì?” Damian lounged in the doorway.
“You can come too, Gloriana. I’ve offered all the residents of the building rooms.” He winked at me. “Of course it will be a little crowded, cara. Some of us may have to double up.”
“Back off, Sabatini. Gloriana’s coming home with me.” Blade slung his arm around my shoulders. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
How nice. I was still dripping and stinky, but two hunky vamps were fighting over me. Well, maybe not actually fighting. And Jerry had asked instead of ordered. He knew Damian had been pursuing me. Jerry was jealous. Excellent. I threw up a block so Jerry wouldn’t be able to tell just how not tempted I was by the Italian stud’s offer.
“Jerry’s right, Damian. I’m going home with him. But thanks for the offer.” I glanced at Flo, very aware of my wet jammies, wet sheet, wet blanket . . . you get the picture.
“Leave her alone, Damian. Jeremiah will take care of her. ” Flo grabbed her brother’s hand and dragged him toward her bedroom. “Come help me. I’ve three suitcases and my shoes, of course, that you must carry downstairs.”
“I’m going to hire a restoration company. They’ll come in here. Get rid of the stink. Even clean your clothes. ” Damian had a hunted look when Flo started filling his hands with shoe boxes. “You two should be able to move back in a day or two, a week at the most.”
“No company will touch my shoes, Damian.” Flo eyed Jerry. “I don’t suppose you’d take down a load for me, Jeremiah.”
“He’s helping me, Flo. Make two,”—I watched the tower of shoe boxes Damian was balancing wobble—“or six trips.”
“Fine.” Flo is always practical, and she liked seeing me with Jerry. She’s convinced we’re probably fated to be together, since we’ve kept our relationship going on and off for centuries. When Flo’s through with a lover, they might as well be dead. She never looks back. I’ve looked back way too often.
“Maybe I’ll ask those cute firemen to help me. This is an emergency.” Flo picked up a velvet sack with her most expensive ostrich pumps. “Come on, Damian. You’d better have brought one of your big cars.”
Damian muttered something vile under his breath as he stalked into the hall. There was a crash, then a slap and Flo shouted Italian insults. I managed a laugh, even though I was more than a little depressed by the smell and the thought of having to pack. I stood and stretched.
“Let me grab some stuff and get dressed and I’ll be ready in a minute.” I patted Valdez on the head. “Jerry, would you help out by grabbing some of this pup’s treats from the kitchen? He’ll tell you what to bring.”
“I sure will.” Valdez trotted toward the kitchen. “The Twinkies are in the cabinet next to the refrigerator. Glory probably wants some of that bottled stuff she drinks too. And the lights are out. There’s a rib eye in the freezer that will ruin if I don’t eat it soon.”