Always the Vampire (12 page)

“Good. Now expand the image to include me.”

The waterfall widened to splash over and around Cosmil.

“Enfold Saber in the peace with us.”

I did, and my heartbeat slowed to match the steady, measured pulse of the disk.

“Extend the protection to Triton, then see it grow until the peace blankets my property.”

All right, I admit I had to push for Triton. Once I saw him within the shower, the image exploded. A Niagara Falls of light bathed my vision, brighter sparkles winking like silver and gold glitter.

“Open your eyes, Francesca.”

I obeyed, swaying a little as the room came into focus.

“That, my dear, is how the medallion works. There are words for the banishing ritual, yes, but you will not need them this weekend.”

I gave him a long, steady stare.

“You’re sure about the no banishing bit? Wizard’s honor?”

“As long as you keep yourself out of trouble.”

 

 

I woke at two the next afternoon, an hour earlier than usual, but a quick shower got me fully revved. Saber had left a note on the bathroom deco mirror saying he’d been called to Jacksonville on VPA business but that it was nothing to worry about.

Good thing, since I was focused on breaking the case of the missing necklaces news to Maggie.

Her cell rang to the max before she picked up.

“Cesca, the Victorian tussie-mussie charm necklaces I ordered for the girls haven’t come in yet,” she wailed. “The store is checking but—”

“No sweat, Maggie,” I interrupted. “I had a feeling we might need a backup plan, so I got just the thing from Triton.”

“So you have seen him again.”

“Just as friends.”

“Let me guess what he gave you. That mermaid-on-the-treasure-chest charm like the one you used to wear?”

Okay, so maybe Maggie is a little psychic, too. “How did you know?”

“I saw them in his shop. Did you get just the charms or necklaces, too?”

“Silver charms on silver necklaces.” I pictured Cosmil waving a hand to erase Triton and Saber’s energies from the two charms they’d worn, and the wizard promised they would attune to their new owners. “Really, I think they’ll be fine, Maggie.”

“They’ll be perfect. Fernandina Beach might be a Victorian-era town, but the mermaids will suit our beach-getaway theme. Hold on.”

I did, and heard Maggie and Neil murmur, then smoochy sounds.

“Okay, I’m back. Neil insists we drive his SUV for the weekend so we’ll have room to ferry the bachelorette-party ladies to dinner and shopping. Will you still be ready to go by three?”

“With time to spare. And, Maggie, I’ll get on the missing necklace order Monday. You’ll have them for the wedding, I promise.” Even if Cosmil had to magically deliver them to me.

“Have I told you lately that you’re a fabulous maid of honor, Cesca?”

“You just did,” I said on a smile. “I’ll be over soon.”

I finished getting ready in record time. I held my nose and downed my daily six ounces of Starbloods, then stowed two more bottles for the trip in a blue zippered cooler lined with ice packs. The hotel had fridges in every room, so I was set on the meal front.

After brushing my teeth, I did the makeup and hair thing, and added last minute supplies to my little hot pink, wheeled suitcase. Snowball protested being shooed off the closed luggage lid, but better white cat fur on the luggage than on my clothing.

I snapped the mermaid receiver around my neck and would give Maggie her necklace before we left. Not that we needed to wear them for the drive, but we might as well. I didn’t think I’d need the amulet on my person, either, but it fit nicely in a pocket of the khaki cargo shorts I’d paired with a seahorse-print tank top. Maybe I could use the disk’s magick to zoom our way through Friday afternoon Jacksonville traffic. Couldn’t hurt, and if that was a sign the amulet’s power was already corrupting me, I would deal with it.

We left for Fernandina Beach on Amelia Island at a quarter of three, and maybe the amulet did clear a path in traffic because we arrived at our beachfront hotel at four. My room had an odd layout with the queen bed right inside the door, but that meant I’d be shaded from the morning light. The heavy drapes would protect me from the sun, too. No need to wear my industrial-strength sunscreen to bed.

As part of the special package deal I’d negotiated, the hotel had prepared refreshments of cheese, crackers, fruit, and assorted cold drinks set up in the lobby. Which came in as a handy way to break the ice as each wave of our party checked in.

Not that all seven ladies were bridesmaids. Sherry, who had known Maggie since childhood, would be Maggie’s only other attendant. The others had been invited because they were good friends. Susan, Evelyn, and Carole were college buds of Maggie’s, and Rhianna and Tiffany were longtime interior design associates. Fireball Jessica was Neil’s younger sister. Her husband John, a college buddy of Neil’s, would serve as his groomsman, but Jessica had declined being in the official wedding party because she was expecting twins.

“No way am I paying for a preggers bridesmaid dress,” she’d said. “I’ll be the cake attendant so I’ll have something to hide behind in the photos.”

The ladies snacked and sipped and chatted like they’d known each other—and even me—for years. Yes, I was a tiny bit surprised each woman so readily accepted a vampire in their midst, but my expectations for a successful weekend soared. Especially when, to a woman, they loved and immediately donned their mermaid charms.

Would’ve been darned difficult to insist that seven independent women wear trackers. But hearing distinct tones for each lady bolstered my confidence that I could keep everyone safe, and tucking the amulet in the pocket of the aqua capris of my dinner outfit didn’t hurt, either.

With Jessica driving her SUV and me driving Neil’s, the party headed to the Florida House Inn in high spirits.

Whereas old St. Augustine reflects its Spanish colonial heritage, downtown Fernandina Beach is dotted with Victorian buildings. We passed book and clothing stores, gift and antique shops, restaurants, and even a club housed in the old buildings en route to the side street where the Florida House took up most of the block. Laughter rang in our private room that overlooked the back garden, and the restaurant surpassed its reputation for fabulous food.

At eight thirty, after the wine had flowed during dinner, the wild wedding women insisted we go clubbing. Yep, the ladies had shucked the shackles of their real lives and slapped on their party-girl hats.

We walked the two blocks to the Painted Lady Saloon. The building had started life as a bank built in the Victorian style, but the interior was now sleekly modern. Large and small cocktail tables ringed a sunken dance floor with a little karaoke stage. Music throbbed, the bass so intense that it altered my heartbeat. Was the noise bad for Jessica’s babies on board? I had no idea, but she led the charge to move three tables together.

The first round of drinks featured a concoction the waitress called the Blushing Bride. Jessica and I didn’t partake, and I never did hear exactly what was in the frothy frozen libation, but the festive mood ramped into overdrive.

Until two male vampires approached the table.

Two square-jawed, buff males, late twenties to mid-thirties in human years. I didn’t get a fix on how long they’d been vampires, but it hadn’t been long as the vampire flies. How did I guess they weren’t ancient vamps? Their dark slacks were classic, but the tropical-print shirts screamed 1980s. They looked like extras from
Magnum, P.I.

Broad in the shoulders, narrow in the hips, their bearing military, they strode ever closer. Eyes friendly, but the tip of their fangs flashing in their smiles.

I think Rhianna and Tiffany drooled at the sight of those white fangs. I went on high alert.

“Evening, ladies,” the slightly shorter, surfer-blond vamp shouted over the music. “I hope we’re not intruding.”

“Not if you ask us to dance,” Carole crooned.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Call me overprotective, but I scooted back my chair in case I needed to move fast.

Rhianna waved an elegant hand. “Don’t be a drag. It’s a great idea.”

“Uh, Rhianna, these guys are vampires.”

“I know.” She grinned. “Vampires are almost as good as gays on the dance floor.”

“Better,” Tiffany added with a secret smile.

The taller, black-haired vamp bowed toward Tiffany but speared me with his gaze.

“Aren’t you the Princess Vampire?”

“Who wants to know?” I countered, waiting for the amulet in my pocket to somehow signal danger—maybe to become burning hot and vibrate like it had at the comedy club last month—but it did zip. If not for the lump in my capris, I wouldn’t have known I had the medallion on me.

“My name is Ken, and this is David. We were in the Atlanta nest, and rumor has it you had something to do with the nest breaking up.”

Every muscle tensed as I braced for a brawl. “And if I did?”

“Then we want to buy you a drink.”

I blinked. “You do? You’re not angry?”

“Hell, no, Princess. Begging your pardon, ma’am.”

“It’s Cesca.”

“This is the first time we’ve been out of Atlanta in decades. The first time we’ve had a vacation since we were Turned, and we’re making the most of it.”

Blond David nodded. “That’s right. We’re free, ma’am. We owe you.”

“Good,” Jessica said. “Then you can buy a round of Blushing Brides.”

“Someone’s getting married?” David ventured.

“Not you, Princess,” Ken said, eyes rounding.

“Not me, and it’s Cesca.”

“This is Maggie’s bachelorette party,” Sherry sang, saluting Maggie with her empty glass. “She needs to dance.”

“We all need to dance,” Rhianna decreed. “So, Ken, David. Can you handle nine girls who want to have fun?”

David winked. “Come on, bridal party, let’s boogie.”

 

 

The vampires danced, flirted, even sang a half an hour of karaoke with Susan, Evelyn, and Carole. They never crossed the line, and believe me, I watched for the smallest sign of a predatory glint in their eyes. I also used the amulet in my pocket to project a shower of protection over every employee and patron in the club, but I suspected the ladies’ mermaid charms would have stayed silent anyway.

Seemed these vacationing vampires just wanted to have fun, too.

Which was the second thing to strike me as odd about them, and the itchy feeling wouldn’t subside.

True, except for Jo-Jo the Jester, my experience with other vampires was limited. I hadn’t spent much time with those I’d lived with in King Normand’s court, but they couldn’t have spelled fun with a dictionary and a tutor. As for my Daytona Beach vampire acquaintances, they tended to be a quieter, surlier bunch than Ken and David were proving to be.

These guys were gentlemen. Polite, charming, solicitous gentlemen. They even ordered water and encouraged the ladies to hydrate each time they returned to the table—especially after we’d all done a line dance to what seemed like an extra-long version of the Sister Sledge “We Are Family” song.

Yes, I said we
all
. The ladies got me to lighten up and take to the floor with them. To continue refusing would’ve looked snobbish or suspicious, so I unbent. I even danced solo with Ken to a song from
Dirty Dancing
. And, okay, I rather did have the time of my life. Ken had those movie dance moves down.

We left the club before midnight, Ken and David insisting they walk us to our cars. That put me on alert again, but they behaved. They thanked us for the evening, mentioned perhaps meeting the next night to dance, but didn’t push. Just waved us off as we wheeled out of the parking lot.

When I’d personally insured that every last sleepy lady was locked in her room, it was time to call Saber and ask the question burning in my gut.

Why the hell hadn’t Ken and David shown a single sign of Void infection?