Sleeping With the Entity (2 page)

He could do that. After all, he was a vampire and she was only human.

Or was she? Hell, Nick didn’t know for sure. But he’d needed to find out fast whether she was going to be a threat to his existence or merely to his peace of mind.

Getting to know her better might be a tough job, but some vampire had to do it. Might as well be him.

Chapter Two

“That was a waste of time,” Daniella told Suz before sinking into one of her friend’s comfy armchairs. Daniella loved Suz’s office. She specifically loved this particular armchair, which fit her to perfection. “A
total
waste of time.”

Suz gave her one of her trademark
Really?
looks over the tops of her colorful designer eyeglass frames. With her short platinum-blond hair and impeccable makeup, she was the epitome of a fashionista and as far away as you could get from the stereotype of an accountant. Suz’s office looked like it had been masterfully designed by a top-notch decorator, but she’d actually done it all herself. And that wasn’t her only talent. Not only was Suz a whiz with numbers and figures, but she could also throw together an awesome outfit in five minutes flat. Daniella liked Suz despite these talents, none of which she possessed herself, although she did have an eye for decorating and design. But Daniella lacked the fashionista gene.

“You mean you didn’t win over the crabby guy with your charm?” Suz said.

“I gave it my best shot. I really did. I even offered him cupcakes.”

“And?”

“And he refused.”

Suz’s eyes widened. “He must not be human. No one refuses your cupcakes.”

“That’s what I’m saying.
No one
refuses my cupcakes.”

Suz leaned forward in her ergonomic office chair. “Does that mean you still have some with you?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“No buts.” Suz put out her hand. “Hand them over.”

“I thought you were on a diet.”

“I am. The cupcake diet. I’m PMSing,” Suz warned. “So do not make me get up and come get them.”

“Fine.” Daniella reached into her bag and removed a small box of cupcakes. “Here.” She gave Suz one of her creations.

Her friend was not that easily appeased. “One cupcake? That’s all you’ve got?”

“I left the large box full of a dozen cupcakes at the bar with Nick St. George so I only have a couple as backup. What do you think of the little bats and spiders on top? Cute, huh?”

But Suz was blissfully unaware of the artistic decorations, because she had her eyes closed while chewing her first bite. “Mmmm.”

“They’re red velvet but I added a new twist. I also am experimenting with dark chocolate cupcakes with root beer buttercream frosting topped with either a root beer barrel hard candy or an A&W Jelly Belly jelly bean.”

“You know I’m your official taster for all your experimental new flavors, right?”

“Of course I know that. I love your philosophy about these things.”

“Cupcakes?”

“Life. Some people say the glass is half empty. Some say the glass is half full. You say, are you going to drink that?”

“Right. I’m practical that way.”

“I’m working on being more practical myself. I think it would help my business skills.”

Suz gave her an appraising look before telling her, “You’ve already got great skills in that area. You’re a pit bull in a twinset and pearls where your business is concerned.”

“Only when I have to be,” Daniella said.

“Did you ‘have to be’ with the crabby guy you had that meeting with?”

“He’s determined to work against me. Can you believe he actually had the nerve to tell me that I don’t really want to open my cupcake shop in this neighborhood? He really thought I’d pack up my bags and go somewhere else just because he said so.”

“He doesn’t know you very well.”

“That’s for sure. And he never will with that attitude.”

Suz shrugged. “His loss.”

“There was something strange about him,” Daniella said.

“Aside from his not liking you or your cupcakes?”

Daniella nodded. “Yes, aside from that.”

“Describe him to me. How old is he?”

“I don’t know. Mid-thirties maybe?”

“That young? I pictured him as a crabby sixty-year-old guy chomping on a cigar. Go on.” Suz leaned back in her chair. “Tell me more.”

“Dark hair and fierce gray eyes. He seemed ruthless and arrogantly regal, like he was the king of the world.”

“That’s Leonardo DiCaprio’s job in
Titanic.
”

Daniella was not impressed. “For all the good it did poor Leo. His character ended up sinking to the bottom of the ocean.”

“Yes, but he did it for love.”

Daniella shook her head. “I can’t see Nick St. George doing anything for love. I didn’t get the impression that he’s a people person.”

“Yet he’s the head of the local business association?”

Daniella nodded. “I think that’s more of a power trip than anything else. He seemed very surprised that he couldn’t boss me around.”

“So the guy is a bully.”

Daniella frowned. “That’s the thing. I’ve dealt with bullies before. When I was a pastry chef in New York, my boss was impossible. No, Nick is more than a bully. I suspect he could be charming if he really wanted to and if it would get him something he wants.”

“So you think that will be his next step? That he’ll try to charm you?”

Daniella grinned. “I sure hope so.” She wiggled her fingers in a
come here
gesture. “Let him try. I’ll be ready for him.”

*   *   *

“That was a waste of time,” Nick said. He could feel his jaw clenching as he spoke to fellow vamp Pat Heller at Pat’s Tats tattoo parlor. Looking around, Nick remembered Daniella’s comments about the ambience at his place. He didn’t think she’d like Pat’s Tats any better. No doubt the wall covered with various body art designs would offend her dainty sensibilities. He couldn’t imagine her as the type of female to get a tramp stamp.

He also couldn’t imagine her approving of Pat with his gray hair held back in a ponytail. The vamp was commonly mistaken for George Carlin before he passed away. George had actually been Pat’s favorite comedian. Since vampires remain the same as when they were turned, Pat’s hair stayed long and prematurely gray as it had when he’d been bitten back in the 1600s.

“What was a waste of time?” Pat asked before he sipped blood from a dainty Wedgwood porcelain teacup.

“My meeting with Little Miss Cupcake Maker.”

“What’s the problem? You just look her in the eye and use mind compulsion to make her change her mind about opening her store around here.”

“I did that. It didn’t work.”

Pat looked surprised. “It didn’t work? I’ve never heard of that before. She’s not a vamp, is she?”

“No, but I have a feeling she’s going to be a pain in the ass.”

“You have a
feeling,
huh?”

“I meant it as a simple observation. You know I don’t do feelings.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Do not tell anyone about her being immune to my mind compulsion,” Nick said.

“Feeling a little inadequate, are you?”

Nick growled.

Pat shook his head with disapproval. “How many times do I have to tell you that vamps don’t growl? Werewolves growl.”

Nick’s silence spoke volumes. So did his glare.

“You’ve been a vampire long enough to know better,” Pat scolded him.

“Is this the part where you go on and on about how many centuries you’ve been a vampire?”

“I do not go on and on,” Pat said.

“I need to figure out more about this cupcake maker,” Nick said.

“Her name is Daniella, right?”

Nick nodded.

“It’s a lovely name.” Pat sat back in his chair. “I knew a Daniella in Paris before the Revolution. Ah, those were the days…” He paused, clearly lost in the memories. “Of course his real name was Daniel. I’ve been gay for a long time. But I’ve never been happier than I am with my current partner, Bruce. It helps that he’s a vamp, too. Not that he’s been around as long as I have.”

“That longevity of yours and your intelligence are what have saved our clan from the devastating effects of sunlight. You’re the reason we can go out in daylight without frying and turning into crispy critters.”

“I just wish I could have come up with the answer faster. It took me a few centuries to come up with the right combination of ink and symbols for a tattoo that allows us to tolerate daylight. I knew it involved the fleur-de-lis design, but it was the formula for the ink that had me stumped for so long. I had to get the ratio exactly right to counteract the UV rays that are so deadly to vampires. It was a painful process—I had to sit in a strong beam of sunshine coming through a window to see if I had it right. I can’t tell you how many times I’d end up with blistering burns in mere seconds. Once I was back in the shade again, my vamp super-healing abilities restored my skin to normal and I’d try it again. It wasn’t until almost thirty years ago that I got it down. With the tattoo it’s all about design, ink, and location, location, location.”

“Better late than never,” Nick said, running his hand over the tattoo on the nape of his neck.

“True. As with all things vampire, each kind finds their own way. Outsider vamps think it has to do with refining the blood. After going through what I have, there is no way I’d give up the secret to our being able to tolerate sunshine here in Vamptown. Do you think I’m going to share that formula with every Tom, Dick, or Harry vamp that walks through my door? No way. Especially not the dicks.”

“What about the human dicks? Are you still accepting them as clients?” Nick asked.

“On occasion,” Pat said. “It’s not like I’m making a meal of them. I don’t need to. Doc Boomer has come up with the perfect formula to revitalize the human blood we get from the human-run funeral home. It’s better than fresh. He’s even added calcium for healthy bones and teeth. After all, dental hygiene is important to our kind. That’s why Doc Boomer runs the twenty-four-hour dental clinic here in Vamptown. Doc is currently a dentist but he’s also been a physician and a chemist in the past.” Pat paused to empty his cup before dabbing at his mouth with a linen napkin. “As for the humans, I only take a small sip from the ones who pass out. That’s why I can say with utmost confidence that Doc’s blood formula is better than the blood from a still-breathing human. Doc has filtered out all the impurities. No germs, viruses, or cooties. Not that it matters, since we are immortal. But no one goes looking for cooties. Even vamps.”

“You know there have been rumblings about us taking over the funeral home,” Nick said.

“I’m aware. But that would draw too much attention. No, I believe our current arrangement is the best. Let the humans deal with the boring details at the funeral home; we merely siphon off the blood unbeknownst to them. But getting back to Daniella … that is strange that she didn’t respond to your mind compulsion.”

“It’s never happened to me before,” Nick said.

“Maybe you should try experimenting with it on another human. Just to make sure you haven’t lost your touch or something.”

“That’s a good idea. I need to talk to Daniella’s brother Gordon at the funeral home anyway.”

“Make sure your mind compulsion still works before you go into any details with Gordon,” Pat said.

Nick glared at him. “I’m not stupid.”

“I know that.”

Did he? Pat used to trust him completely. His friend had never doubted him before. Yet now Pat was reminding Nick not to make any rookie mistakes. Hell, he might not have as many centuries under his belt as Pat did, but Nick had been around for two hundred years.

This was all the cupcake maker’s fault. Nick had only met the female two hours ago and already she was making his life difficult. She’d started complicating things the second she refused to back down from her plans to open the cupcake store down the street. And to make matters worse, she’d been so damn cheerful about it all.

Nick couldn’t figure her out, but he would. Because no one ever got the best of him.

“Gordon will be trembling in his boots if you walk into the funeral home with that look on your face,” Pat said.

“Good. Humans are easier to deal with when fear keeps them in their place.”

“You were human once,” Pat said.

Nick didn’t welcome the reminder. He didn’t want to think about those days so very,
very
long ago.

*   *   *

None of the limited number of humans in Vamptown were aware that they were surrounded by vampires, and Nick was determined to keep it that way. Which is why he began compelling Gordon the instant he walked into his office at the Evergreen Funeral Home. Usually such visits involved some reminder to keep the blood flowing, but this one was different.

“Tell me about your sister Daniella.” Nick stared into the funeral director’s eyes and watched them go glassy and blank. He was relieved to see that mind compulsion continued to work just fine on Gordon, unlike his sister.

“She was born in Chicago eighteen months after me. Birth date June first. She’s twenty-nine. Graduated from college with honors.” He quickly stated facts as if by rote. “Went to boot camp at CIA.”

“Hold on. The CIA?” Could this explain somehow why Daniella was immune to his vamp mind compulsion? Had spy training taught her to resist any sort of mental coercion?

“CIA—Culinary Institute of America,” Gordon said before continuing, “Favorite music groups are Coldplay and The Script. Favorite color is pink. Drives a pink Vespa moped she’s named Shirley. Always wears her helmet, which is also pink.”

“Tell me more.”

“She’s very stubborn but usually cheerful. Studied in New York to be a pastry chef. Worked there at some fancy place I can never remember the name of. Her best friend here in Chicago is Suz Beckman, an accountant.”

“Are there any men in Daniella’s life?”

“Me, my father—”

“No,” Nick interrupted him. “I mean romantic relationships.”

“She went to senior prom with my best friend Randy Schmidt.”

“More recent than that,” Nick said impatiently.

“Dave Labelle in New York City. She broke up with him when she moved back to Chicago a couple of months ago. The asshole cheated on her. She nearly whacked him with a cupcake baking tin.”