Always the Vampire (39 page)

“I’ve heard the adage that you can’t choose your family, but Gorman? My gene pool spawned pond scum.”

“Ten generations and removed, Cesca,” Saber said as we drove to the cottage. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? Saber, you despise the guy. You nearly stroked out when I suggested he guard Lynn.”

“Yes, but it could be worse. He could want to off you for your money.”

“Honey, please. Stop trying to make me feel better.”

Wisely, he shut it and drove.

I thought about my past run-ins with Gorman and his extreme loathing of me in a new light. I knew my mother had felt the shame of my Turning, but had she fostered such a deep hatred of me in the family? So deep that it had endured for ten generations? Pardon the expression, but talk about overkill.

Well, I’d told Gorman before, and I’d tell him again. Three words. Get. Over. It.

Snowball met Saber with rapturous meows, scarfed down the can of food he opened for her, and dogged his every move until he stripped to get in the shower with me. Then she tackled the T-shirt out of his hand and rolled in it as if it were high-grade catnip.

Had she experienced another ghostly encounter in the cottage, or was she just starved for Saber’s attention? She certainly wasn’t cowering in her carrier as she had when Isabella had popped in. Then again, maybe she hadn’t been cowering. Maybe she’d just been sulking.

I forgot Snowball’s antics when Saber joined me in the shower, lathering my shoulders and back with pear-coconut shower gel. After that, I pretty much forgot even my name for the next hour.

Once Saber slept, I got up to keep a promise I’d made to him. I made a phone call.

Jo-Jo answered his cell on the third ring.

“Good evening, Most Beauteous Princess,” he said. “Have you called to take me up on my offer to entertain at the wedding reception?”

I laughed softly as I sat at the kitchen table. “No, you’ll be a rank and file guest, Jo-Jo. Donita will be with you, right?”

Donita had been the main squeeze of another vampire until August. Jo-Jo had hired her as his personal assistant to help her get back on her feet, and I had a feeling they might be mixing business with pleasure.

“She will, and the film crew for
The Court Jester
remake will hit town a few weeks after the wedding. The advance people are out there now. Have you met them?”

“No, but I’ve been a little busy.”

“Of course, Your Royalness is the maid of honor. Big job.”

“Yes, but that isn’t my biggest problem right now. Why didn’t you tell me everything that went on in Vlad’s nest?”

“Like what?” he asked cautiously.

“Like mention that a wizard killed three of Vlad’s vampires.”

“You know what they say, oh, Forgiving One. What happens in the nest—”

“Stays in the nest. That’s horse hockey, Jo-Jo.”

“Not entirely. You didn’t ask me for details of my nest life. You only pinned me down about the protection money Vlad and other head vamps were paying to that offshore account. And I didn’t know much about that.” He paused. “You mentioned the wizard. Have you run into him?”

“Not yet. We’re hunting him and something he created.”

“Then the rumors are true.”

“What rumors?” I tensed, fearing that David or Ken had been telling tales, even though my instincts denied they would betray us.

He sighed. “The vampire bloodvine has it that most of the Florida vamps are sick and that you’re tracking what’s infecting them.”

“How do you know about the vamps in Florida?”

“They don’t call, they don’t text, and their friends are worried. I’m not keen about coming back to town for this movie if I’m likely to get sick.”

“You probably won’t. Not if we can help it.”

“Princess, what did you really call about?”

I took a deep breath and took the plunge. “I need to know how to Turn someone.”

“Saber?” Jo-Jo asked anxiously. “Is he mortally injured?”

“No, no. Not yet. I mean, maybe not at all, but he’s begged me to Turn him if there’s no other option.”

“And you don’t know how?”

“I never saw the process, and the other vampires I know well enough to ask either aren’t available right now or are too young to have Turned anyone.”

“I hate to break this to you, but I’ve never Turned a human, either.”

“Jo-Jo, come on,” I cajoled, brushing my still-damp hair out of my face. “You’ve been around since the Middle Ages.”

“Can you see me being responsible for another vampire? I promise you, Your Royalness, I’ve never Turned a soul, and I can’t tell you what I don’t know. Maybe you can find instructions on the Internet. Every other piece of information under the moon and stars is there.”

He had a point, several of them. But trust Saber’s successful Turning to an Internet step-by-step? I wasn’t that desperate.

“Jo-Jo, do you know someone who could help me?”

“I could ask around, but I’m not exactly best buds with any vamps.”

“Ask soon, will you? I need an answer in the next two days.”

“Nothing like performing under pressure. Okay, I’ll see what I can do, but no promises, Princess.”

We disconnected, and I laid my head in my arms with a soft moan. Could I count on Jo-Jo coming through? No. Not that he’d blow me off. He might truly not know a source to ask. I’d already considered broaching the subject with David and Ken, but I doubted they had any expertise in the subject. One, they were relatively young. Two, they’d experienced only nest life. Vlad wouldn’t have allowed his nestlings to go around Turning people. I sure couldn’t imagine the Clarkes Turning anyone. Not with dentures, for heaven’s sake.

In the end, I looked on the Internet. Lo and behold, there were fifty hits that actually looked viable. The problem was that, similar as the instructions were, I doubted their accuracy. Why? Because every site carried a litany of disclaimers and side effects that rivaled the medicines advertised on TV.

I didn’t crawl into bed filled with confidence, but I had to trust that my instincts and my heart would lead me if worse came to worst.

 

 

Wednesday. Middle of the workweek. Hump Day. Three days from the wedding. Two days from the rehearsal.

Two days from destiny.

Okay, I was being a bit dramatic but not by much.

I’d awakened at ten thirty, dressed, and played with Snowball while Saber ate his cereal.

“We need to clean out the fridge or take some of your food to your place on Friday.”

“The caterer still plans to use your kitchen?”

“And Daphne will store the cake here.”

“Then we need to take Snowball home, too. You need any help with your maid duties? I’m at loose ends today.”

“You could help me make calls and do the laundry. With all the training and late hours, our workout clothes have piled up.”

“Do you want to clean the house while we’re at it? Have it nice for all the people who’ll be in here Saturday?”

“We might as well. Just in case we don’t, uh, get back to it.”

He rose to rinse his bowl and spoon, then pulled me from the chair. “Come on. No point in dwelling on what might happen or when. Let’s get our chores done, and leave time for a little afternoon loving.”

“I meet with Maggie at four after the housecleaning crew is gone.”

“I’m flexible.”

“Don’t I know it.”

He slapped my butt, and I danced out of reach.

“Ah-ah. Business, then pleasure.”

We divided my list. I called the caterer, the florist, and Daphne again. Saber took the tasks of calling Neil to check on the music and parking arrangements, and then calling the rental company. With each of us on our phones, it sounded like a telemarketing call center, but we got the job done.

Saber dusted because he could reach the high spots easier. I started a wash load of delicates and drove Snowball crazy with the vacuum. Then Saber scrubbed the kitchen and half bath while I cleaned the master bath. Both of us tag teamed the mound of laundry until every item was hung, folded, and put away. If we went down in flames on Friday, at least the cottage would be in pristine shape.

Maggie met me at the back door at four on the dot and led me to the dining room where cutouts representing chairs at round tables sat on a piece of foam board covered with green outdoor carpet. Her covered cobblestone patio was indicated with one-inch tiles, a cutout bar and bandstand stood nearby, and balsa wood showed where the portable dance floor would be. Another area of mini tiles and another cutout at the back of the property stood for my patio and tiki bar that would serve as the secondary drink station.

I arched a brow at her. “Geez, Maggie, is this a seating chart or a design-school project?”

She grinned. “All right, so I went a little overboard. I might be a wee bit freaked about the number of RSVPs we got for the reception.”

“Did you find the Lister’s response?”

“Selma brought it over Sunday.”

“Okay, let’s see what you’ve done.”

We pored over the seating arrangements she and Neil had worked up, but I had little to contribute. They’d done an excellent job seating the wedding party in proximity to the bandstand for quick access when it was time to make our speeches. Maggie’s dad, Neil’s parents, and Neil’s few other relatives were positioned just right, too. Seating Hugh Lister near anyone he wouldn’t offend was a challenge, but Neil had suggested they put Hugh near the dance floor. The rationale was that the band would drown out Hugh’s cursing. I sure didn’t have a better suggestion, so except for a very few tweaks, we left the chart as it was.

Next we moved on to my list of things to gather so they’d be at hand.

“I think I have everything, including those purse-sized packages of tissue, but do you have a regular box handy?”

She did, and we ticked our way through the rest of the list until she balked at one item.

“I am not wearing panty hose, Cesca. No woman with two brain cells to rub together wears panty hose in St. Augustine.”

“Unless it’s for work or a formal event.”

“Well, this is
my
version of a formal event, and I won’t wear them, so just cross that item off your list.”

“But what about Sherry? What if she or Jessica or one of the other girls gets a run?”

“Sherry can bring her own back-up pair, and I
know
Jessica’s not going to wear hose. She’s due to deliver those babies in a week.”

“Maggie, the wedding list specifies having several pair on hand in various sizes. Why not have them, just in case.”

“You’re obsessive-compulsive about this list, aren’t you?”

“Just being a good maid of honor.”

“All right, but I will kill you if you mention panty hose again.”

“My lips are sealed.”

She flashed a grin then leaned back in her chair, looking toward the closed door I knew lead to Neil’s office. “Cesca, has Neil told you what he has planned for the music?”

“No, and he won’t even tell Saber. They talked this morning.”

“He wouldn’t do anything crazy, right?”

“And risk upsetting you? Hell, no.”

“He’s upsetting me by not telling me what he has planned.”

“Then hit him with that. And meantime, make sure you have a place cleared for a harpist. I told him that’s what you’d want, and I’ll bet that’s what you’ll get.”

“If that’s true, why is he being so stubborn about sharing?”

“It’s his way of surprising you,” I soothed, and realized with a flash of psychic insight that I wasn’t entirely lying. “You know about your ring and the honeymoon destination. And since you’re not having the traditional rehearsal dinner, taking care of the music is his special contribution to the wedding.”

“I suppose.”

“Maggie, everyone is on board, everyone will be on schedule, and the wedding will be perfect—including Neil’s music arrangements. Trust me.”

“Hmm. Does that mean you’ve caught the bad-guy wizard?”

“Not yet, but we’re closing in. Oh, and I had an idea for the rehearsal. A sort of party favor.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Each guest gets a drachma to take to the Greek festival,” I said quickly, making up the rules fast. “At the end of the night, those who still have the coin on them get a chance to win a gift certificate to a restaurant. A chain, so the winner can use the gift card anywhere.”

“Does everyone get to keep the drachma?”

“Yes, or they can give them to you and Neil for good luck, but you’ll have your own coins. You just won’t be in the drawing.”

Her green eyes narrowed. “Is this a Greek thing? Giving drachmas for good luck.”

Damned if I knew, but I nodded. “It used to be, back in the day. I already have the coins taken care of, but we need to decide on a restaurant that will suit anyone who wins.”

After a short debate on the merits of various restaurants, I was out the back door, headed to the peace of my cottage and the arms of my love.