Real Vampires Have More to Love (Glory St. Clair #6)

Real Vampires Have More to Love (Glory St. Clair #6) Page 5

“Yes, my hero.” He kissed my palm, then stepped back. No sign of the emotions that his own memories must have dredged up. “Now open the door to the alley, Gloriana. Then lock it behind me. Promise you won’t go out there without shifting first yourself. It’s your best defense.” He gave me a searching look. “You’re easier with the shifting now, right?”

“Right. Good idea.” I’m not crazy about shape-shifting, but I’ve learned to do it without freezing in fear that I won’t get back to Glory as usual after I’m done. For centuries I’d had a phobia about that. “My car’s dead anyway.”

“I’m sure Westwood’s daughter doesn’t just use the alley. Crowds are a great protection. Use them. And—” He shook his head. “Damn it, where’s Valdez? I want to hire him again.”

“Forget it, Jerry. He’s into this nightclub he’s opening. He’s done with the bodyguard gig.” I gave Jerry an “I mean business” look. “Even if I would tolerate it. Which I won’t.”

“Hardheaded woman.” He stared at me until I wanted to kiss his stubborn mouth.

“Exactly. You should be used to it.” I gave in to the impulse and pulled his head down to trace his firm mouth with my tongue until he pulled me hard against him.

When he finally lifted his head and licked his lips, I couldn’t read his mood. “At least the rest of you is soft.”

I laughed up at him. “Yep. And you seem to like me well enough to overlook my faults.”

“Unfortunately I’m a man enslaved by his cock.” He squeezed my backside then turned toward the door.

“Jerry!” I fumed as he shifted into a blackbird. “Yes, fly the hell away while I’m still speaking to you. And be careful, damn it!” I opened the door and watched him fly into the night. Thank God no arrows hit the door as I closed it and threw home the dead bolts.

Flo would give me knowing looks once I walked into the shop. So what? Jerry and I were two of a kind. If he was a slave to his cock, then I was a slave to my . . . I grinned. Yes, and wasn’t I lucky to have a man who could satisfy me so unbelievably well?

I touched the table where we’d just made love. What did they call what we’d just done? A booty call? I straightened my sweater and adjusted my jeans, which had enough spandex to have helped when Jerry had reached inside and . . . I shook my head. Time to get a grip. I had life-and-death issues to deal with. Like planning a trap for Ms. Westwood. Jerry was right. I needed to use some vamp mind control and make her forget she’d ever heard of Glory St. Clair. I headed for the door into the shop.

“Hold it right there, missy.” Emmie Lou Nutt, one of my resident ghosts, shimmered between me and the doorknob.

“Not now, Emmie, I’ve got things to do and people to see out there.” I saw her husband, Harvey, shimmer into place beside her. He wore his usual overalls, never wore anything else. Emmie was stuck for eternity in the cowgirl outfit she’d worn the day Harvey had accidentally run over her in his pickup at the Texas State Fair. They lived in my shop because they’d met in this building more years ago than they’d admit.

“Reckon you don’t wanta be goin’ out there right now, missy. There’s a mischief maker wantin’ a piece of your hide waitin’.” Harvey had a toothpick in his mouth, and he shifted it from the left to the right as he looked at his wife. “Tell her, hon.”

“He’s right, Glory. Hidin’ a stake in his pocket. Good thing he’s not wearin’ them vampire-detectin’ glasses, or he’d of had him a field day with your friends out there. Instead he’s got a picture of you in his pocket right next to that durn stake.” Emmie Lou swished her skirt. “Harvey tossed a purse at his head.” She giggled. “Made him jump. Right, Harvey?”

“Sure did.” Harvey sidled up close to me. “Call your vampire buddies in here and have a confab. You know, send ’em one of them there mental messages like ya do. Get Flo to read that fella’s mind. Find out who he is.”

“What is this? Stake Glory week? I wonder if he works for Vivien Westwood?” I realized Harvey had the right idea. I unlocked the storeroom door and sent a mental message to Flo. “What did this guy look like?” I listened while Harvey described him. Not exactly rock-star material. In fact, he sounded cute but ordinary. A lot like—

The storeroom door opened, and Flo and Richard rushed inside, then slammed and locked it.

“He’s David Westwood, another heir to the Westwood billions. He’s trying to kill you.” Flo hugged me close. “Don’t worry, we’ll rip out his throat as soon as he’s outside and away from your shop. I know how you are about bad publicity.”

I breathed in Flo’s expensive perfume. What was this—a vamp-hunting contest? I pulled back. Yes, got it in one. And how like Brent Westwood to arrange something creepy from the grave.

“Killing Westwood’s son would be a little more than bad publicity, darling.” Richard leaned against the door. No sign of my ghosts. Apparently they were back in the shop, ready to toss more purses if necessary. I hoped they stuck to non-breakables.

“He’s right, Flo. As much as I’d love an easy solution, I have a feeling that if both a son and a daughter are after me, then there’s probably some kind of paper trail that would make a cover-up difficult.” I sat on the table where I’d had such fun just minutes ago. “And how many kids did this billionaire have anyway?” I wished for my laptop, which was in the shop.

“Easy to find out.” Richard opened the door a crack. “I’m also going to discover how many men he brought in with him. I thought it was busy for eleven o’clock on a Tuesday night.”

“Anybody buying anything?” I jumped off the table. At least if business was good that would be some consolation.

“Zilch. Except for this.” Flo held out her wrist. “I love my new bracelet. Vintage costume jewelry is very in right now. And this was a signed piece. Lacy gave Richard a discount.”

“It’s perfect on you.” I knew it was one of my more expensive items too. I smiled at Richard. “Bring my laptop in here. We can research the Westwood family, and I’ve got to check on stuff for Flo’s party if I live long enough to throw it. You did register, didn’t you?”

Richard grimaced. “Of course we went through that nonsense. Can you imagine vampires picking china and sterling flatware? The crystal goblets? Fine. Bed linens? Sure.” He glanced at Flo. “But my beloved is enjoying this, so I do what I must.” He smiled at me. “Don’t worry, Gloriana, you’ll live to endure every one of these wedding festivities. Now, Florence, lock this door behind me.” He slipped into the shop and closed the door.

“Pah! He loved picking out everything. You should have seen him feeling the towels and comparing thread counts on the sheets.” Flo locked the door. “He’s right. We’ll take care of these Westwoods. Nothing is going to spoil my wedding.”

“I hope you’re right.” I forced a smile. Now Flo frowned. “What?”

“It’s Aggie. She says she’s giving me a shower. Do you think she means one of those parties with gifts? Or ...” She paced around the workroom.

“Well, Flo, she is a Siren. Weather is her specialty. I’ve seen her drum up a typhoon when she’s unhappy. I’ll check with her.” I hugged my former roomie. “Of course you should have a bridal shower. Wish I’d thought of it. Tell me where you’re registered, and I’ll make sure she puts it on the invitations.” I’d put the screws to Aggie a.k.a. Aglaophonos. The Siren owed me. If a bridal shower would make Flo happy, then Aggie would deliver. And no one would end up wet.

We both looked up when there was a knock on the door.

“It’s Richard.” Flo unlocked the door and eased it open.

“They’re gone. I planted the idea that you’d had a run-in with his sister and had fled town. Wouldn’t be back for months.” Richard laid the laptop on the table. “That should hold them off for a while. But we can’t count on that to last. He’s bound to have his own investigators.” He opened the laptop and booted it up. “Now let’s see just how many little Westwoods are running around praying for a Glory sighting.”

“But Richard, what’s the deal? Why are they all after me?” I looked over his shoulder. Google had a lot of sites about the billionaire, but Richard had become a pro at picking out the best one. Soon we could see a family portrait. I sagged with relief. Two kids. Vivien and David. Okay.

“Seems Westwood’s determined to get you even from the grave, Glory. I read young David’s mind. The will says that if Dad’s taken down by a vampire, the kid who gets the vamp ‘assassin’ gets the gold. All of it.”

“What?” I sank down on the table.

“Yep. Billions, made from the tech industry. And, trust me, Westwood sold out long before any problems with the economy. So it’s a huge pile.” Richard was on a page now that showed a bio for each child. Neither Vivien nor David seemed to work for a living, obviously sponging off Daddy. One lived in Hollywood and the other in Paris. Both had expensive tastes judging by the homes they kept.

“David was really ramped up about it. He didn’t even know Dad was missing until his allowance check didn’t come on time. Seems they weren’t close. Anyway, he and his sister jetted here to see what’s what and met two bodyguards who told this wild tale about how Dad bit the big one at the hands of this female vampire. Had a cell phone video to prove it.” Richard put his hand on my shoulder.

“You’re kidding. They took video?” I looked at Flo. “I’m cooked.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Richard still looked very serious. “It was poor quality. Made at night, from a distance. The guards knew your name because Westwood had talked about you so much. You know he was pretty obsessed.”