She slumped in her chair and scanned her studio. Covers for every major fashion magazine in New York, Paris, London and Rome covered her walls. Vackra had been the only one who hadn’t hired her to shoot a cover. And she just couldn’t let that one go. Oh no. She had to chase after it. Now here she stood facing a lion with a butterfly net.
Out of ideas, Evelyn called her mother.
“Evie, it’s so good to hear your voice,” her mother said without a trace of sarcasm or even a guilt-inducing inflection, which Evelyn fully deserved.
“I was beginning to worry about you, sweetie, but I never know when to call you. I’d hate to disrupt an important shoot.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t called.”
“What are you working on?” her mother asked.
“A very difficult assignment and I’m stuck about what to do next.”
“Why don’t you ask that professor you liked so much in graduate school? The one who helped invent that bluescreen thingy?”
“Chroma keying,” she automatically corrected, but her mind raced. The chroma key technology made things and people invisible on TV and the movies like Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak.
“Didn’t you say there was nothing he couldn’t do with a camera? Maybe he can help you.”
“Professor Duncan passed away last year.” Genuine sorrow filled her.
“Aw. Too bad.” A pause. “Didn’t he write a textbook or something?”
Stunned, Evelyn gripped her phone tighter. “He donated all his research to the School of Visual Arts’ library.” Equipment, notes, computer. Everything. “Mom, you’re a genius!”
Her mother demurred, but Evelyn could tell she was pleased. Evelyn promised to call more often, then hung up. Grabbing her purse and jacket, she dashed out to hail a taxi before Gray arrived.
The library was open until midnight. As a distinguished alumni, Evelyn had full use of the facilities, and was soon tucked into a quiet corner, searching through Professor Duncan’s research for the next several hours.
Taking notes, Evelyn devised a rough plan that used a video camera and reversed the chroma key graphics. Would Gray agree to wear a blue body suit?
“Find anything interesting?” Gray asked.
She jerked. “How did you know I was here?”
He wore a jacket, gloves, hat, scarf and sunglasses. No doubt to hide from the security cameras hanging from the ceiling. “Was your mother happy to hear from you?”
Evelyn rubbed her eyes. “Vampire spies. How could I forget? Did you listen to my conversation?”
“Of course, sweetie.”
Surging to her feet, she confronted him. “That’s illegal.”
He shrugged. “Call the police. Good luck proving it.”
“I can prove it right now.” She reached for his hat.
But he snagged her wrist, stopping her before her hand came close to his head. “I don’t think you fully realize the danger you are in.” He tightened his grip.
Pain ringed her arm as panic ringed her chest. Thinking fast, she said, “If you break my wrist, then I’ll be unable to take photos and the bet will be put on hold until I’m healed. I’m sure your queen will not appreciate you causing a delay.”
Gray released her even though he was clearly unhappy. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”
Score one for the photographer. She returned to her notes. At midnight the library closed and Gray escorted her home. No need to fear being mugged with a vampire bodyguard.
Evelyn spent the rest of the night searching Craigslist for the video and computer equipment she’d need. Gray left, Olivia arrived, and she sent Olivia to pick up her multiple orders before collapsing.
Friday
“You want me to wear this?” Gray held up the blue garment. “Is this a joke?”
“Think of it as a Halloween costume,” she said, gesturing toward the changing room.
He paused. “I always go as Count Dracula for Halloween.”
She laughed. Call it exhaustion or sleep deprivation, she couldn’t help it.
He grinned and studied her. “So nice to see you smile. That scowl you favor doesn’t belong on your beautiful face.”
Sobering in an instant, she shooed him into the changing room. She wasn’t going to fall for another delaying tactic. Yet she tucked her hair behind her ears. When she had been in college, many of her fellow photography students had asked her to model for them. They’d called her a classic blond beauty. But that was ten years ago, and, although they’d flattered her, she found the experience utterly boring. Far better to be behind the camera.
When he returned clad only in the skintight bodysuit, Evelyn pressed a hand to her mouth to keep a fit of giggles from bubbling out. For the first time, he appeared uncomfortable and that cocky smirk of his was nowhere to be seen.
And she would know since the suit left nothing to the imagination. Nothing. A flush of heat spread to areas of her body that hadn’t felt anything in years. Perhaps living with Camilla’s nest of nasties wouldn’t be so bad.
Focusing on the task at hand, she instructed him to pull the hood over his head. “Cover your face as well, it will only be for a second.”
“You don’t have to worry. I don’t need to breathe.”
“Oh.” Curious, she asked, “How much is true? You mentioned blood and dawn, what else is right?”
“Are you planning to attack me with garlic and a wooden stake?”
“You’re too fast and strong. I wouldn’t get near you, would I?”
“No. And I’m not telling you our secrets until you’re part of the . . . nest.” He gazed at her with a predatory intensity.
“Or is it because you’re afraid I might win the bet?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.” He yanked the hood down over his face.
Liar. But she wasn’t going to waste anymore of her precious time. After she filmed a few minutes of video, she asked him to pull the suit down to his waist, exposing his upper body. He smirked as she recorded another couple minutes. She wondered if his attitude was a defense mechanism to keep people at a distance.
God, she had lost her mind. Who cared about a soulless demon? Once she took his fricking picture, she would never have to see him again.
He stayed as she ran the video through the computer program, hoping to reverse the process. Nothing but blue filled the screen.
She closed her eyes and rested her head on her desk.
Gray put his hand on her shoulder. “You should be commended for effort. I’ll ask our queen to allow you to call your mother from time to time. She owes me a favor.”
Sympathy from a vampire. Could she go any lower or was that the bottom? No, she wouldn’t give up.
Evelyn shrugged off his hand and stood. “I still have two more days. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Without waiting for a reply, she headed to bed. A good night’s sleep should help clear her head. She hoped.
Saturday
With panic simmering in her chest, Evelyn spent the day going over all the techniques she had tried this week, trying to find inspiration. When that failed to work, she surfed the Internet for information about Camilla D. Quinton, Grayson Windsor, and Vackra magazine.
No surprise that there were no pictures of Gray, but there were dozens of Camilla all taken prior to 2000. A memory tugged. She recalled a campaign by the magazine to find the most beautiful man and woman in the world to mark the new millennium. The staff traveled all over the world, including some very exotic lands. Perhaps they found more than they could handle. They had eventually featured a stunning couple, but after that, Camilla withdrew from the spotlight.
She searched for more information, but found nothing. Switching to her favorite photography websites, she spent a few hours looking for ideas. Googling “how to photograph a vampire” produced a number of interesting results, but none of them amounted to anything useful.
When she started reading articles written by paranormal investigators on how to capture ghosts on film with a hybrid digital/film camera, she knew she had gone beyond desperation. She scanned her studio and wondered how many boxes she’d need to pack it all up.
Evelyn was slumped at her computer when Gray arrived. He wasn’t alone. Standing by his side was the Demon Queen decked out in the latest name brand fashion. She noted the woman’s pale skin and how much younger and prettier she looked than her photos from the nineties.
Camilla greeted her with the mock/air kisses to her cheeks. “Evelyn, my dear. So nice to see you again.” Her gaze swept the messy studio. “Grayson tells me you’ve been resistant to holding up your end of our little bet.”
Little? She glanced at Gray, but he stood behind Camilla and kept his face impassive.
“You took advantage of my inebriated state,” she said.
“Oh hush.” Camilla waved long fingers at her. “You would have boasted just the same had you been sober. You know I’m right.”
Evelyn considered. “Probably.” But not now.
“No probably about it my dear. You’ve been chomping at the bit for an assignment for Vackra magazine and I gave you one. One that you couldn’t fulfill.”