A Taste of Love and Evil (17 page)

“That’s great,” Jack said. Working with clay helped ground Gil. “Don’t worry about Constantine. I’ll figure that one out one way or another.”

Gil grunted. He switched the positions of a rabbit and a frog. “And now you’re leaving me with a runaway,” he muttered. “You know how vulnerable they are.”

“This one’s tougher than most.”

Gil was whispering again. “Where’s Rose? Can’t she take care of her?”

“Rose is at Violet’s place. I tried to convince her to stay away from that damned feud, but she’s stubborn and she doesn’t trust me.”

“We both know whose fault that is.” Gil tidied the bits and pieces on the counter.

“Yep,” Jack said. “I fucked this one up so bad I’ll never be able to right the balance.”

“Maybe you should forget the balance for once.” Gil rolled up a wire clay cutter that had been unpacked by some customer. “Maybe you should—”

“Right,” Jack interrupted, “and maybe you should meet with the real-estate agent this afternoon.”

Gil dropped the clay cutter back into the bin, where it promptly unfolded itself. “It’s not that simple.”

“It
is
that simple.”

“Jack, you don’t understand—”

They’d been here before, over and over. “You’re right, I don’t.”

Across the shop, Juma flipped through a magazine. Flick. Flick. Stiff, anxious posture. Listening hard.

“She’s a scared kid,” Jack said. “She’s afraid her nasty old grandmother will come and take her away, and she doesn’t know whether she can trust us or not.”

“Of course she can trust us,” Gil said, but he was still whispering, and probably intended to whisper all day.

“Why should she believe she can trust us?” Jack said. “Her parents haven’t been much use to her, and her grandmother sounds like the archetypal witch. She’s just a kid and she’s all alone.”

“For some reason,” Gil hissed, “that doesn’t reassure me one bit.”

Jack left the shop, encasing himself in a light camouflage that rendered him nondescript and largely unnoticeable, and headed toward the clubs. A brisk breeze chased through the streets, past closed bars and open cafés and antique shops. The gift shop and salon in Blood and Velvet would open soon. Meanwhile, Violet Dupree’s house was close by. So what if he was a fool? At least he knew it.

He slipped into camouflage as he approached the purple house. Rose’s van was too conspicuous, but at least the black Mercedes was still here. With Tony Karaplis around, Rose should be safe enough. Tony owned the Greek and Italian restaurant not far from the Impractical Cat. A former bruiser and quite a ladies’ man, so the gossip said. Generally well liked, but Jack doubted he was one of Violet’s boyfriends. Violet seemed to favor buff young guys.

No movement showed in the front windows. Jack threw himself in rapid semicamo from a live oak to the cypresses lining the driveway, and from there over the locked gate into the back garden. Anyone glancing out the window would do no more than a double take.

A calico cat, preening itself on the flagstones, bolted across the yard when Jack landed inside the gate. Jack went from tree to bush to the larger-than-life statue of Violet’s near-naked sister carrying a ball and chain, her hair flying in the wind. The statue’s fangs were too big for her mouth, but the rest of her was appallingly alluring, even in cold stone. In the months since Jack first saw the statue, its surface had weathered to motley greens and grays, perfect for camouflage. He climbed the pedestal and wrapped himself around the statue from behind, his prick nestled against her buttocks and his arms beneath her breasts.

“Jack knows
Titania?”
Rose fought uselessly to control her fangs.

“Knows her?” Violet cried. “He’s obsessed with her. She picked him up a year or so ago and dumped him after only a couple of days, and he’s never gotten over it. He denies it, of course, but that’s nonsense. Guys never get over a vamp.” She cocked her head at Rose. “Ooh!
You
want Iachimo Tallis? Good heavens,
why?
Oh, the money. Darling, it’s not worth it. There are plenty of other wealthy—”

Before Rose could spit out a denial, Tony said, “Hogwash, Vi. Plenty of people get over vamps.”

“Nobody gets over me,” Violet sputtered. “Name one guy, just one!” She stomped away, and Zelda and Tony exchanged a look.

“I am
not
ego-tripping,” Violet said over her shoulder. From another room a second later, she called, “It’s the truth!”

Tony cast his eyes heavenward. “I have parted company with many women on good terms. As for guys, Constantine dumped a vamp when he was just a kid, and if this Tallis dude has more brains than dick, he’s long since over Titania. If not, he’s unworthy of our Rose.”

Our Rose.

Tears prickled, but Rose found her voice. “That would explain why he’s so dead set against vamps. After Titania, how can he help but think we’re animals?”

Violet returned, checkbook in hand, hackles up. “He said that to your face?” Suddenly, she giggled. “Not that he’s far off. I feel like an animal a lot of the time. Almost always, to tell the truth.”

“He didn’t say it to my face. He didn’t know I could hear him.” Rose thought it through. At first, he’d been in shock—weak, trying to control himself, and finding it well-nigh impossible. No wonder he’d been sickened. Afterward…“He resisted my allure over and over again.”

“Afraid of losing control,” Tony said. “That matters a lot to some guys.”

“More than vamp sex?” Violet said. “Impossible. It’s because he knows it’s the only way to get Titania back. If she finds out he’s had another vamp, she’ll never touch him again.”

Tony pursed his lips. “And that’s a problem?”

Violet flapped a hand. “Forget him, Rose. Seeing as he’s filthy rich and Titania still dumped him, he must be a complete and total dud.”

“No,” Rose said irritably, “he’s not a dud.”
Unless he wants Titania.

“Regardless,” Violet said, “he’s completely unreliable where Titania’s concerned. If she crooks her little finger, he’ll follow like the sheep he is.”

“He’s not a sheep.”
But if he wants Titania…

Violet sat on the couch and opened the checkbook. “Whatever. I can’t be counted on to keep my temper if we speak another word about That Bitch.” She stabbed her pen at Rose. “I should be offended you even thought I might not pay. But I’m not. I’m completely under control.”

“Titania said you wouldn’t pay,” Rose said. “She told Miles you were working a scam. She said you would steal the dress, refuse to pay, and demand your down payment back.”

Allure roiled around Violet. “That Bitch!”

Stiffly, Rose said, “I didn’t believe her, but I guess an inkling of doubt still remained, so when you said you didn’t want the gown, I blew up. I apologize.”

Immediately, Violet subsided. “Sweet of you, darling, but completely unnecessary. Sit down, for heaven’s sake, and let’s
not talk
about That Bitch anymore.”

Tony motioned to Zelda with his chin. “Coffee lesson. In the kitchen. Now.”

Zelda scowled. “You already taught me how to make Turkish coffee. Greek, I mean. We can’t leave these two alone.”

“It would serve them both right if they clawed each other up a little. But they won’t.” He flicked Zelda’s cheek. “Next thing you know, they’ll be comparing notes about men.”

Zelda made a face. “Before long, I’ll be stuck doing that, too. With my
mother.
How sick is that?” She pointed a skinny finger at Rose before following him to the kitchen. “Keep your fangs where they belong, hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rose said, loving Zelda’s defense of her mother, wishing she had a mother she cared to defend, wishing her own mother could have reprimanded her in just
such a way. Violet was probably crazy, but they were family. Not that Rose really believed she was one of them. Family didn’t happen just like that. But at least they were her kind. She took a seat at the other end of the sofa.

Jack. And Titania? No way in hell.

Brisk and cheerful now, Violet said, “You’ll stay with us while you make a new costume. We have plenty of room. I’ll give you a down payment, and we can get to work right away.” The calico cat jumped onto her lap, purring. Violet caressed the cat, murmured endearments, and wrote a check for the balance due on the first gown. She appeared perfectly calm. “Let’s assume the new gown will cost the same as the first. You can adjust your invoice later if it’s more.” She wrote another check for the same amount, and gave both to Rose.

Rose folded the checks and put them in her bag. The fabulous gown she had spent days on waited, beautiful but forlorn, to be taken down and packed away. All that work, and just for money. Although she was grateful for the payment, she needed to understand. “Violet, I have a question, but it may have to do with Titania. Will you promise not to explode?”

“No, darling, I never make promises I can’t keep. Go on. Take a chance.”

“You seemed a lot more stable over the Internet.”

“Writing is so final.” Violet kissed the cat’s nose. “I think twice before hitting send.”

Okay. “I’m happy to make another gown, but why can’t you use this one?”

“Because Titania saw it.” Violet clutched the calico cat to her chest.

“But you already knew that, so why have me bring it all the way here?”

“And let That Bitch get her hands on it?” The cat struggled in Violet’s increasingly feverish grip. “Not a chance!” she spat. The cat spat back, and with an apologetic murmur Violet let it go.

Tony bellowed from the kitchen. “Violet, is this another of your damn fool feuds?”

“I didn’t start it,” Violet fluted. “Titania wants to one-up me for best costume at Mardi Gras. She’s been coming to Bayou Gavotte more and more often. I don’t know why she can’t stay in New Orleans. She’s on every krewe’s invitation list. Luckily, my spies found out she’d wangled an invitation to the Bayou Gavotte ball as well.”

“And unluckily,
her
spies found out I was making you a gown.” Rose couldn’t keep the bitterness under wraps.

Violet glowered. “Don’t get me started. I don’t know how she found out.”

“She called and threatened me this morning.” Rose tried to control her fangs but realized she didn’t need to. She let the sharp tips show. “She said she’d know about it if I came over here.”

Violet’s own fangs slotted down. Her hands balled into fists. “She has people watching my house?”

“Maybe she was bullshitting me. No one tried to stop me. Did you tell anyone else I was making your gown?”

Violet narrowed her eyes. “No! I kept it a strict, strict secret!”

That didn’t mean it didn’t leak out. Violet’s dressmaker had provided a dress dummy and measurements. Violet had shipped it via UPS. Rose and Violet had spoken on the phone. They’d exchanged e-mails. But Rose wasn’t about to expose anyone else to Violet’s ire, so she merely said, “I don’t see why Titania would steal something that didn’t even fit her. She’s at least two sizes bigger than you, maybe three. She couldn’t wear it herself, and she must have known you’d just have another one made.”

“Spite,” Violet said. “Pure spite.”

“For spite, she’d go all the way to Chicago, sleep with an old man and tell him all sorts of lies, and then threaten me
with both arrest and creative punishment? I find that hard to believe.”

“She’d do anything to get the better of me!” Violet pronounced.

From the kitchen, Tony said, “See what your feuds do to innocent bystanders, Vi? Time to grow up, girl.”

“I don’t start them,” Violet said, adding under her breath, “I know, I know, it takes two.” She stuck her tongue out in the direction of the kitchen, sucked up her fangs, and closed her eyes. “Zelda, forget the coffee and light some candles. Rose, we need to meditate to get rid of our violent urges.”

“No, we need to understand what’s going on. When Miles first showed Titania the gown, she…she practically sneered at it. I could have sworn she wasn’t thinking of taking it. She knew it wouldn’t fit her. She talked about having something similar made for a Mardi Gras ball, but—”

“She’s such a dummy. That dress isn’t for the ball,” Violet said scornfully, abandoning the meditation pose. “It’s for the float in the parade.” Rose’s perplexity must have shown, for Violet added, “The Bayou Gavotte Mardi Gras parade. Oh, you’re a Northerner. Is this your first time? You’ll love watching the parade, and catching beads and coins and cups, but you must not,
absolutely not,
flash your boobs, no matter what people shout at you. We don’t want a riot spoiling the parade.”

“Um,” Rose said, all at sea. “No problem.”

“Now, let’s forget about That Bitch,” Violet said. “I have some fabulous ideas about the new gown. It has to be a replica of the gown of a genuine queen. I picked that one because of the serpent on the sleeve representing wisdom, which was totally appropriate to my character.”

Tony guffawed. “Serpent of temptation, more like.”

Violet assumed a catlike expression. “That, too. Anyway, Rose, we have a costume competition a week before Mardi Gras, and the people with the best costumes get to be Bayou
Gavotte’s Mardi Gras king and queen in the parade. This year I decided to have a genuinely queenly gown for the parade, but of course I’ll wear something entirely different for the ball. Zelda, go get the kings and queens of England book and see if you can find that issue of
Vogue
about Marie Antoinette.”

“Just a minute,” Rose said. “There’s more. Something changed when we got into a discussion about dancing. Usually I’m good with customers—you get all sorts, and you have to learn to be polite to idiots—but I could hardly keep my fangs in their slots when I was in the same room as Titania. Since I know more about dancing in costumes than Miles, he dragged me into the discussion.” Her own words came back to her with a jolt. Oh, hell! She paused, seeking a way to put it. “Bottom line, we said she’d need a lot of practice if she wanted to dance in that sort of gown. For most modern dancing, it simply wouldn’t work. The huge skirt makes it more regal and ceremonial.”

Did I blurt out the wrong damn thing? Was this all my fault?
Violet wasn’t jumping on her in rage yet, but she might soon be.