Cursing my lack of planning, I juggled my load to unlock the dead bolt. I flung open the apartment door and dumped Lucky-okay, I was gentle-on the couch while Valdez dragged in the bags of Christmas lights. Forget decking the halls tonight. I headed to the kitchen and a bottle of A-positive Fangtastic. Smelling Lucky's blood and the tiny sip I'd taken had given me a raging thirst. I stood over her and swigged straight from the bottle. Whoa. I leaned down and sniffed. Oh, God. Lucky smelled a lot like me. How creepy was that? I dragged off my coat, moaned at the sight of a smear across the sleeve and looked at the clock. A few minutes until dawn. No wonder my thoughts were scattered and I was barely able to keep my eyes open. I pulled Lucky's boots off, checking out the size (too small for me, but perfect for my roomie), then hustled downstairs for her coat. I dropped it in a plastic garbage bag and set it by the door. I did know a good dry cleaner. I wasn't going to give up on a designer label without a fight.
Lucky was going to sleep like the dead until sunset anyway, but I tried to make her comfortable, even tossing a throw over her. Then I headed for my own bed. Valdez waited outside my closed door while I undressed and put on a comfy nightgown. When I let him in, he settled on the foot of my bed for guard duty during the vulnerable daylight hours. I closed my eyes. Lucky. She had a hell of a surprise coming when she woke. And I'd have to give her the gory details about her new life or death or whatever. I jumped up, ran back to her side and dug into her purse until I found her knife, then pulled the other one from a clever scabbard stitched into the side of her right boot. I stuck both knives on a shelf behind a book,
How to Dress
Ten Pounds Thinner
, then fell into bed again.
Lucky had sure lived up to her name tonight. If I hadn't come along when I did . . . But would she be grateful now that she was one of the undead?
Me, I wasn't feeling so lucky. My roommate hadn't come home before dawn. This wasn't unusual, but she hadn't left a message on the answering machine. We'd agreed to check in with each other after some near misses for both of us. Believe it or not, there are some people who don't appreciate our fashion sense and sparkling personalities. So we keep tabs on each other. I hoped Flo was okay. I hoped
I
was okay. Responsible for a new vampire. Crap.
Three
Screams, no, make that shrieks, jerked me from a sound sleep. I nudged Valdez with my foot.
"Sounds like our guest just woke up."
"And she's freaking out."
Valdez yawned and jumped off the bed.
"Want me to check on her?"
"My vampire, my problem. But thanks. I wonder how much she remembers about last night." I rolled out of bed and reached for the red robe I'd tossed on a chair the night before.
"Careful, Blondie. Sounds like she's about to blow. I'll be ready to move in if she acts ungrateful."
Valdez stepped back when I opened the door. Jeez. I winced as the noise ramped up another octave.
"Hey, hey, calm down." I stalked into the living room. I don't know what I expected. Maybe that she'd seen the empty Fangtastic bottle with a half inch of what looked an awful lot like blood (because it was, of course, though a synthetic variety). Or that she'd woken up in a strange place and her favorite boots weren't on her feet.
Oh, no. Instead, Lucky, who wasn't feeling so fortunate, stared into the silver hand mirror she'd had tucked into her purse.
"What's wrong with me? Why can't I . . . see myself?" She looked up, her eyes swimming in tears. "And where am I?"
"Take a breath. Try to relax. You're in my apartment. I'll answer all your questions in a minute." I snatched up the mirror, took a second to admire the delicately engraved C on the back that told me this must be a family heirloom, then set it on the coffee table and headed for the kitchen. I'm not too good without my evening jolt of Fangtastic. And I definitely needed something before I dealt with all the upcoming drama.
"Where are you going?" Lucky leaped up and grabbed my arm. She swayed then seemed to rally, her French-manicured fingernails digging in.
"The kitchen. For a bottle of breakfast. You probably need one too." I pushed down an uncharitable thought that my stash of the expensive stuff wasn't going to last long with a houseguest scarfing it down. Would it be tacky to ask for a donation? I eyed her fabulous Birkin bag. If she'd give me that beauty, I'd happily keep her swimming in Fangtastic.
"A liquid breakfast? Are you an alcoholic or something? I usually have stone cut oatmeal, skim milk with a few blueberries for the antioxidants, of course, and coffee, black."
"Of course. Gee, let me write down your order." I looked at her nails doing a number on my vintage quilted robe. At least she'd gone in for a blunt tip or I'd have a hole in the nylon.
She took the hint and released me. "Sorry." She ran a hand through her hair.
"It's okay. You're confused. Sit." Now I could see she had subtle highlights-brown, mahogany, a touch of copper. That cut and color must have cost her a fortune. New York. A fortune and a half.
"I'm feeling weird and I can't remember how I got"-she swept a glance around my admittedly shabby digs-"here. Who the hell are you anyway?"
I sighed, bit back a chorus of "Why me?"s and guided her back to the couch. "Gloriana St. Clair. Call me Glory. I brought you here last night. This is my apartment. It's right upstairs from where I found you."
"Last night? You . . .
found
me?" Lucky dug into her purse and pulled out her BlackBerry. Her hands shook as she punched through it. "Yeah, right. I'm in Austin. Texas."
I checked the ticking kitty clock I'd brought home just because Valdez hated it. I had about thirty minutes before I was supposed to take over from the day help in my shop. I needed to throw myself into something fabulous and get downstairs. That is, if I could figure out what to do with Lucky.
Uh. Oh.
Lucky had picked up her mirror again, hyperventilating between eye rubs. She sobbed and leaped off the couch again.
"Tell me why-" She gasped and her eyes rolled.
Swell. Out like a light. I hoped this wasn't going to become a habit. Swooning is so nineteenth century. I dragged her back to the couch, then headed for the kitchen again. Ah. Fangtastic. I took the first swallow of the night and sighed, grateful for the surge of energy. Then I sat across from Lucky and watched her stir to life again.
"Feeling any better?"
Lucky stared up at the ceiling. "I feel like shit." She turned her head, watched me take another swallow and wrinkled her nose.
"What the hell are you drinking? It looks like-"
"Blood?" I smiled and saw her eyes widen. Oh, yeah. My fangs were out. "It is. I'm vampire, Lucky. You told me last night you were down with that. Which is cool." And strange. But I kept that to myself.
"I . . . I don't remember." She sat up, really pale and still very shaky. "But I know some vampires. Clients. I sure don't pal around with them. They give me the creeps, always staring at my neck like I stare at a chilled bottle of Grey Goose." She bit her lip. "Sorry. I didn't mean . . ." She put her hand to her throat. "Thanks for letting me crash on your couch."
"This isn't a slumber party, Lucky. Last night you were bleeding out. There was only one way to save you." Boy, did I hate this. My next words would change her world forever. And I do mean
forever
.
She jumped when Valdez sat down next to her feet and looked up with a doggy grin.
"It was great. Blondie was a hero, otherwise you'd be dead meat, sister."
"I was bleeding out?" She frowned at Valdez, not at all surprised by a talking dog. Interesting.
"I'd say someone wanted you dead, Lucky."
She stared at me. "But I'm not. You . . ."
"I healed your wound and brought you upstairs." Okay, so I left out a major detail. Lucky would figure things out soon enough.
"Wow. Thanks." Lucky shook her head. "God, I have got to slow down. I mean, what was I thinking? Meeting a client at three in the morning in an alley in Austin freaking Texas?" She put her head in her hands. "I feel strange." She opened her eyes. "You have any Valium on you?"
"Drugs won't cure what ails you." I gave Valdez a look that sent him ambling to the door. He stopped for a sniff at Lucky's really cute boots and pretended to be thinking about taking a whiz on them.
Lucky screamed an obscenity and lunged. When she'd settled on the couch again, she clutched the boots to her chest.
"Shape-shifter?" She gave Valdez a hard look when he grinned. "My client last night was a shifter. A damned female were-cat. But she knew my rules. I don't do business with animals. A shifter who wants to deal with me does it in person, if you know what I mean." She examined her boots for damage. "Damn it, there's blood on the toe. Whoever the hell did this is gonna pay." She glared at me, but her paper-white face and trembling lips ruined the effect. She looked like she was about to faint again.
"Yeah, whoever did this
should
pay. But please remember that I'm not the bad guy." Female were-cat. It couldn't be-Lucky looked like she was about to crash again. I jumped up and grabbed another bottle of Fangtastic out of the fridge. Maybe I should nuke it. Most vampires like it hot, but I spent a long time in Vegas. So I developed a taste for it cold. Whatever. I twisted off the top and handed it to Lucky.
"Drink. This will make you feel better. Stronger physically anyway."
Lucky put the boots next to her and sniffed the bottle. "Did someone
die
for this?"
"Gee, I don't think so." I saw her horrified look and took pity. "It's a synthetic. I order it on the Internet. I can't afford the really exotic blood types, but A positive isn't too bad."
Lucky put the bottle on the table with a thump. "Yeah, I'm
positive
I can't drink this shit. I'm queasy." She pressed a shaky hand to her flat (don't you hate her?) stomach. "Come on, Gladys. The shifter here must eat. Don't you at least have a few crackers?"
"Glory." I polished off my own Fangtastic and sat across from her again. Time for a reality check. I picked up the hand mirror and aimed it at her face. "Remember how you couldn't see yourself a few minutes ago? Sorry, hon. News flash. There was only one way to save you last night. I had to turn you. You are now a gen-u-ine vampire."
Here came the meltdown. Ear-piercing shrieks, then sobs and wails. I felt her pain, even had to blink back a tear or two of my own. Hey, I'd
chosen
the vamp thing and still had a bucket full of regrets. Finally, she sniffled and groped inside her boot.
"Looking for your knives?"
"Where are they? Give them to me." She teared up when I shook my head, then slumped and grabbed the mirror. "Nobody home. Damn it to hell! How will I do my hair, my
makeup
?" She cried noisy sobs into her boots.
"I'm sorry, Lucky. Really." I handed her the bottle of Fangtastic again. "Drink. I know it's not black coffee, but you'll get the same kick. And it looks like you need it."
"I need
something
." She sniffled, then ventured a sip. She took another swallow, then another until the bottle was half-empty. A ladylike burp behind her hand and she was looking better. "Not exactly the Kona blend I prefer, uh, preferred." She sobbed again.
"This can't be happening. No coffee, or, or chocolate!" She looked wildly around the room, like maybe somebody would jump out of the bedroom and shout "April Fool." No such luck.
"You just drank what passes for blood around here. Run your tongue over your teeth."
"Oh, my God! Fangs! But I paid a fortune for bonding." She poked a finger in her mouth and winced. "Last week I had my teeth whitened. Laser." She snarled tentatively and I could see she did have some pretty choppers.
"The fangs only come out when you're around blood or get really, uh, excited." Like when you want to kill someone, or at least take them down a pint. Or when you're aroused. But I was so not going there. "And good news. You're stuck now, for, uh, eternity with freshly whitened teeth." I looked her over. "I'd kill for your figure." Her eyes bugged. "Have you? Killed, I mean?"
I took a moment to soul search. There'd been a few acts of self-defense back in the day and then there'd been some really desperate times, before the synthetic came along. Hey, when you're crazed by bloodlust . . . Nope. My dirty laundry was staying in my personal hamper.
"I'm civilized, Lucky. Not dangerous unless you get between me and the last pair of half-price Jimmy Choos in my size." She actually managed a tiny smile. "My nerves are a little ragged or I wouldn't ask such a personal question." The smile disappeared. "We all have our little secrets. And a vampire . . ." She shrugged. "You do what you've got to do to stay alive, I guess."
Now I was alarmed. Had I given the big V to a serial killer? "You mentioned a bodyguard last night. What's that about? That purse is worth a fortune, but going around with a bodyguard seems a little extreme."
"Brittany. She should be here. And not just to guard my purse. She's not allowed to leave my side when I'm on assignment."
"Assignment?"
"Never mind. She obviously cut and run instead of defending me from whoever did this." Lucky stroked her throat. "I'll make her regret it. I'll rip out
her
throat. She'll be my first, er, victim."
There was no mistaking the look in Lucky's eyes now. Scary. And trust me, I've seen some really badass people in my day. "Chill out, Lucky. There will be no throat ripping. The vampires in Austin don't appreciate anything that draws attention to us."
"So I'll take her out somewhere else." Lucky pulled a nail file out of her bag and went to work on her manicure. "Jeez, look at this. I bet I fought like hell. Check out the damage to these tips."
"You obviously didn't go down easily. You even had a bloody knife next to you." I was definitely going to watch her carefully. Just because I admired Lucky's taste in accessories didn't mean she wasn't bad news.
"Ha! I hope I put a serious hurt on that throat-ripping bastard." She looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Are we going hunting later?