Real Vampires Hate Their Thighs - Page 1/63

One

Youu know, there’s something very unsexy about meeting your lover behind a Dumpster. But, hey, at least Gloriana St. Clair still had a lover to meet. There had been some nights recently when I’d been afraid I’d have to give celibacy another shot. You think a woman PMSing is bad? Try taking on a celibate vampire. But no worries. My guy was waiting just around the corner.

I adjusted my black “Cher in the eighties” wig, slung my purse over my shoulder and navigated the alley in my five-inch heels.

“Jeez, something reeks.” Valdez, my bodyguard, sniffed.

“You got that right. Even ritzy hotels have bad garbage.” I had a leash attached to him, but God forbid I actually tug on it. We gave the Dumpster a wide berth and walked right into a guy with a camera. Guys with cameras were the reason we were sneaking out the back door in the first place.

Camera Guy looked me over, trying to figure out if I was “Somebody.” Then he eyed the dog on the end of the leash. Apparently even the canine failed the test.

“Forget it. I’m getting out of this pit and hitting the front door.” The photographer snorted in disgust.

“Good idea. I heard Usher’s coming down.” I saw him sprint away and glanced down at Valdez. “Your disguise did the trick. Mine is pretty lame. Anyone can throw on a wig and sunglasses. But yours is the bomb.”

“What’d I tell ya? I’m brilliant.” Valdez grinned and practically dragged me to the street. “Blade’s here. He’s got Flo and Richard with him.”

I still couldn’t get used to my shape-shifting dog’s new look. A Rottweiler. Cute, with his pink tongue and black mouth, but he looked a lot more dangerous than his usual curly coated Labradoodle self. Then I saw Blade, Jeremy Blade, my four-hundred-year-plus lover and the man who’d made me vampire all those centuries ago. Then he’d been known as Angus Jeremiah Campbell III, heir to Clan Campbell. With his father an immortal vamp too, though, it didn’t look like he’d be laird anytime soon. Which was fine by me. It left him free to roam the world. Lately that had included following me to Austin and now this little trip to Los Angeles.

I stopped and checked him out. He always looked so good to me. Tall, buff and sexy as hell. But tonight he was in a Hollywood-style white silk shirt that made the most of his dark hair and eyes. Add expensive trousers with loafers and no socks and I wondered if some stylist had gotten hold of him.

Before I could ask, he had me in his arms and up against all that hard maleness. Yum. He tasted delicious, and I could feel his fangs when he kissed me. Great start to my evening.

“Nice to see you too, Jerry.” I grinned up at him when he let me come up for air.

“You look very sexy. Forget going out. Let’s go back to my hotel room, Gloriana.” He obviously appreciated the effort I’d taken with my wardrobe choice.

When you’ve got too much in the caboose like I do, you learn to play up your assets. So I’d chosen a plunging neckline with blue sparkles that matched my eyes. Add a push-up bra and I guarantee male eyes never went below my personal equator. I’d put on a twirly skirt in black with some strappy black heels that were just made for dancing. So no hotel room. I wanted to hit some clubs.

“We’re going out, Jerry. I’m sure Flo is with me on this.” I pushed him toward the car he’d rented.

Do you wonder why we’re not staying at the same hotel? Why we’re sneaking around Dumpsters? Gee, nosey, aren’t you? Okay, it’s like this. I’m pretending to be engaged to a newly turned vampire, rock star Israel Caine. Since I’m indirectly responsible for his “condition,” I’m mentoring him, helping him deal with the complications. Like no daytime gigs. You see where I’m going with this? So when the paparazzi, like that guy I just avoided by the Dumpster, kept seeing us together, they assumed we were an item. Ray (all his friends call him Ray) decided to go along with it, and next thing you know, we’re pretending to be engaged.

Now, I know I should have called a halt to things, but, sue me, I kind of groove on the idea of the world thinking I’m a rock star’s main squeeze. I mean, me, slightly chubby Glory St. Clair, who is nobody, living in the fast lane? I’m just the “barely making ends meet” owner of a vintage-clothing shop in Austin, Texas, and a sort-of ancient vampire, yet I’m engaged to a rock star. How cool is that?

And Ray is totally hot, sexy and when he sings . . . I was hooked on his music before he’d ever been dumped on me. Literally. Then he turned out to be a great guy and—would you believe it?—into me. I know, I thought I was dreaming. Sure, it’s 90 percent gratitude for saving his life. Whatever.

It made Jerry superjealous. And that’s not such a bad thing in a long-term relationship. Guys can get to taking you for granted after the first few centuries. Anyway, Ray’s up for a Grammy. And the awards are in a week. So we’re here in Hollywood. Israel Caine and Gloriana St. Clair, the happy couple. I promised Jerry I’d break up with Ray when we got back to Austin. After I get to wear the fabulous dress a designer is whipping up for me as we speak. For when we walk the red carpet. You see why I couldn’t dump Ray just yet?

Now, can we get back to me sneaking out to meet Jerry? Ray’s at press briefings, or rehearsals or something. He doesn’t need me so I arranged to go out, discreetly, of course. Ray knows I’m really with Jerry. No big deal, darn it. Except Ray had insisted on separate hotels so maybe he’s a little jealous. Hmm.

My best friend, Flo, and her husband, Richard, came along on Jerry’s chartered jet (yeah, Jerry’s rich). Now I want to have fun. And not just one-on-one in a hotel room. We can do that, and have done that, many times, in Austin. All over the world, for that matter. And, after some dancing, I’m sure we’ll do it again—I gave Jerry a hot look—and again.

“You sure you want to wait?” Jerry had read my mind and his own mental message promised all kinds of special services while his hand slid over my backside.

Valdez tugged on his leash and I snapped back to the here and now.

“Anticipation makes everything better.” I grinned and patted Jerry’s cheek. “Hi, guys. I love this car. You rented this, Jerry?” A vintage white Cadillac convertible with red leather interior sat at the curb. The top was down and three vampires lounged in the backseat. “Cool.”

“Flo talked me into it. She said the Mercedes I was going for was stuffy.” Jerry grinned. “She picked out the clothes too. What do you think?”

“I think Florence da Vinci should be on your payroll as your stylist.” I ran my finger in between Jerry’s button holes to the smooth skin of his chest. “You look unbelievably hot.” I leaned in and ran my mouth along his jugular. “I’ll show you how hot later. She tell you to go commando?” I felt Jerry swallow against my lips.

“Flo, you’re hired.”

“Of course I did. See, Jeremiah? You must always listen to me, caro.” Flo jumped up on her knees. “Glory, that wig is not your color. You should have gone for a deep auburn.”

“I had to take what I could get, Flo. Barry, Ray’s publicist, brought it to me. Maybe you can find me something better for tomorrow night.” I smiled at Richard, then at the man on Flo’s other side. “Damian, didn’t know you were coming.”

“I decided you needed a guide. I know this area. You want to explore the vampire scene here? I’m your man. There’s a club on Hollywood Boulevard you must go to.” Damian Sabatini, Flo’s brother, winked. “Jeremiah isn’t crazy about the idea, but I say, what’s the harm?”

“Too many vampires in one place is asking for trouble.”

I slipped into the front passenger seat, laughing when the grumbling in the back started. Because there was nowhere else for Valdez to go. The front had a console and there was a seat belt law. So the three vamps in the backseat had to make room for my pooch.

I don’t go anywhere without my dog slash bodyguard. Not my rule—Jerry’s. Since he’s paid for a succession of Valdezes for centuries, even when Jerry and I aren’t a couple, I go along with it. It’s a safety issue. Valdez makes me feel protected. A single girl can’t be too careful, you know. And I’ve had some close calls lately. Not everyone loves me. Can you imagine that?

Jerry drove and Damian gave him directions. It was a cool, clear night and traffic was heavy but moving. Flo and I had fun spotting famous boutiques along Rodeo Drive. Many of them were open late and we promised ourselves a shopping trip another night. Not that I could afford anything in those shops, but I did have enough credit on one of my cards to splurge on something if we could find a resale shop.

When Jerry pulled up in front of an art gallery, Flo and I looked at each other.

“What’s this? I thought we were going dancing.” I leaned over the backseat. “Damian?”

“It’s here. But in back. Behind the gallery. We’ll enter through the alley.” Damian told Jerry where to park and we were soon on the sidewalk.

There was plenty of people-watching here. Interesting. And not just humans in the swim. There were the usual Goths, vamp wannabees and tourists clicking away with their digital cameras. But there were other entities too. The real deal who looked more human than the humans. They exchanged knowing looks with us as we window-shopped various galleries and headed for a narrow gap between buildings. The fearful wouldn’t have ventured down the dark walkway. We zipped along at vamp speed.

I was glad to be in the gloom and eager to see what a real vampire club looked like. I’d avoided them in the cities I’d been in before, not sure I’d be safe as a woman without a protector. Now, surrounded by Blade, Richard, Damian and Valdez, I figured that I had an army at my back. And, hey, Flo and I could kick butt ourselves.

The door in the alley was painted gray and had an old-fashioned hatch in it. Like a speakeasy I’d been to once, back in the roaring twenties. Damian dialed a number with his cell phone, proving that this was twenty-first-century stuff, and the hatch opened. A man’s face appeared, his nose quivered, then he glanced at us before he nodded and threw open the door.