“I’m actually celebrating a private party here with some of my CinSim pals,” I said, sipping the spicy cocktail of my own concoction. “What’s going wrong at the Gehenna now?”
“Yeah,” Sansouci seconded me, “Cicereau does seem accident-prone, particularly when it comes to the supernatural set.” He slugged down my spicy liquor-loaded concoction in three gulps. “When are you going to invent a cocktail in my honor?”
“You don’t claim the Vampire Sunrise?”
“I’m not that kind of vamp.”
“The ‘Sansouci’ sounds comatose. Hardly you.”
“More like Cicereau lately.”
“You saying he’s comatose?”
“That would be nice, if you could arrange it. I know a few dozen vamps who’d like to catch him snoozing and kill him without tasting a drop of his rotten blood. But, no, he’s the same power-hungry, brutal, dumb mob boss as ever. Except he’s been cursed.”
“Cursed? Like bespelled?”
“Maybe that way. On the surface, it looks like a vengeful dead dame’s got him on her radar.”
“And I can help … how?”
“You got rid of the daughter he offed. He thinks you’re the one to banish this new dame.”
“What do you mean, me ? I know what crimes against women Cesar Cicereau is capable of. He tried to force me into his Gehenna magic act when I first hit town, playing on my exact likeness to that hot CSI V: Las Vegas corpse, Lilith, but he gave up that idea.”
“You weren’t as cooperative as he likes his women to be.”
“You mean alive and kicking.”
“I do. Not a problem for me, though.”
“Why can’t you handle this?”
“He won’t listen to any of his pack, and I’m the hostage help, so I rank even lower. You’re the perfect undercover operative to figure out what’s going on.”
“But you’re still his top enforcer.”
“Because I can still outkick werewolf pack butt. Just because my … dining partners are voluntary doesn’t mean I can’t unleash the vampire bloodlust that kept me alive, so to speak, for seven centuries or so.”
“A real Jekyll and Hyde.”
Sansouci nodded. “The best … and worst … of both worlds. Don’t forget that, Delilah, while you admire my designer sunglasses.”
Sansouci had pulled out opaque black Gucci shades with titanium frames. Dark glasses began to be commonly used only during the Great Depression, when some vampires learned that keeping their eyes shaded allowed them to stroll around unsizzled by broad daylight. Once unhumans went public after the recent Millennium, the vampires were even more eager to live “normal” lives without being labeled serial killers, which tended to get them hunted down, staked, and beheaded.
“Let’s take a trip down the Strip,” he suggested.
“Cicereau’s still got it in for me, and I’m not dressed for work.”
Sansouci eyed my party getup. “The boss is so many decades behind the times, that outfit will lull him into thinking you’re a nice girl. This looks to be another corporate exorcism job. He’ll pay you well to get the freaks off his back.”
“Like the teenage daughter he murdered back in the forties?”
“Like Loretta, yeah. With werewolves, alpha pack power is thicker than blood.”
“I’ll do a meet with Cicereau,” I said, “but that’s not saying I’ll take the job.”
Still, I wondered what fresh “ghosts” were bugging the Vegas mogul. And I knew my carotid artery was safe in Sansouci’s company, if not much else.
*
“You want your car ?” asked Manny, my Inferno parking valet buddy, as his goatish yellow eyes sized up Sansouci. “The visiting Gehenna Hotel fur-back owns wheels?”
“At least I don’t leave scales on the leather upholstery.” Sansouci eyed Manny’s case of all-over orange psoriasis. “Off-black Porsche Boxster with terra-cotta leather interior,” Sansouci spit out, handing Manny a claim ticket.