The Real Werewives of Vampire County

Chapter 4


Just because you got the monkey off your back doesn’t mean the circus has left town.

—George Carlin

Alexis’s mansion sprawled across the verdant grounds of the property with all of the glamour and poise of a movie starlet. The trees lining her driveway glittered with twinkling lights, urging guests to come along to see the wonders of her garden. Row upon row of Jaguar, Mercedes, Audi, BMW, and Lexus luxury cars had been positioned just so, shining to advantage in the lights spilling from the house. Gabled windows and wrought-iron balconies gave the manor a European flavor, and the sounds of chatter, music, and laughter spilled from open French doors.

Tiffany followed in Heather’s wake, adjusting the strap of her purse as she paused in the foyer, bright blue eyes scanning the interior.

Much like the cars, many of the people inside had positioned themselves to advantage. They cradled drinks as they chatted in small groups of four or five, clustered around the baroque Louis XIV furniture done in rich tones of red and gold that matched the marble floors and sweeping columns in the open receiving room.

“Excuse me,” Tiffany said as her eyes locked on a man in a casual Tony Bahama polo and sleek J. Crew slacks. “I see one of my clients. I’ll be back shortly.”

Heather nodded, but Tiffany wasn’t paying attention, already stalking across the room like a hunting cat on the prowl, lacquered hand extended for the surprised gentleman to take as he noticed her. “Todd, it’s been ages... .”

The smooth way Tiffany went in for the kill drew Heather’s admiration instead of her ire. Though she wasn’t pleased at being ditched, she soon shrugged it off and followed her nose, trailing the distinct, musky scents of her favored pack mates. Her own stride became smooth, quiet, the stalking of a predator, leading the people around her to unconsciously move aside as she found her way to the back doors leading outside. A bright smile was soon plastered on her face as she took an empty seat beside Alexis on the patio. Cassandra returned her smile, eyebrows arching high.

“I take it things went well today?”

“Oh yes!” Heather gushed. “Ladies, we have a winner. She’s curious about Others and said she wants to meet a werewolf. How about that? I think she might go for it. I really do.”

Alexis frowned, her voice heavy with skepticism. “Are you sure about that? Most humans wouldn’t be so quick to put themselves within arm’s reach of a supernatural creature.”

“Yes, well, we haven’t exactly been forthcoming with her about ourselves.”

“She’s not cut out to be one of us,” Vera said, dripping disdain as she lounged back in her chair and stabbed the air with her martini olive’s toothpick for emphasis. “She’s well-dressed and obviously has connections, but we hardly know a thing about her. I don’t want her here. Not until we’re sure she’s not a threat.”Cassandra ignored Vera, narrowed eyes remaining locked on Heather, her expression otherwise unreadable. “Don’t tell me you think we should have said something to her already? She hardly knows us. No matter what she says, no one is prepared for being faced with the real thing. Not the first time. Think of the danger she could pose by knowing too much too soon.”

Heather pouted. “I thought you wanted her in the pack, Cassie? I didn’t tell her anything. I just asked a few questions and got her opinion.”

“It just seems a bit rushed. If you’re sure it’s safe, I suppose we should take advantage of her interest while we can. Where is she now?”

Heather gestured back the way she had come, lowering her voice—completely unnecessarily, considering no one but members of the pack were mingling outside. “She came with me. She saw someone she recognized, so she’s distracted for a bit, but she’ll be joining us shortly. We should tell her tonight. We really should.”

Alexis shrugged, sipping her martini before placing the glass on the table and leaning forward, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “You know, if she’s really as interested as you say, I’ll bet we could sell her on joining us before the next full moon. Cassie, if you can convince Gabriel to let Heather sign her, I’ll bet we’ll have her on a contract before the end of the week.”

They were interrupted by a discreet cough, a man holding a tumbler of brandy coming to a stop next to Alexis’s chair. “Ladies, I trust you’re enjoying yourselves?”

Murmurs of assent and a few pithy greetings were exchanged. Alexis was not amused by the interruption.

“Darling, do you know anything about our new guest, Tiffany ... What did you say her last name was?”

“Winters,” Cassandra supplied. Vera growled softly, but didn’t say anything once she caught Cassandra’s warning look.

“Tiffany Winters. We’re discussing bringing her into the pack.”

Everyone ignored Vera’s scowl.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maxwell usually handles the background checks. I think he’s by the barbeque, why don’t you ask him?” said Samuel.

“Honey,” Alexis whined, “we want to know now, not next week. Can’t you ask him? Or see if Gabriel will okay us issuing a contract? We don’t want to miss out on this one.”

His dark brown eyes rolled heavenward, muttering something unheard. She reached up to adjust the lapel of her husband’s Dolce & Gabbana jacket, frowning at a crease in the otherwise sleek lines. He waved her off before inclining his head in deference to Cassandra at her pointed look.

“All right, ladies, I’ll check with Gabriel. Give me a few minutes.”

“You’re a peach!” Heather favored him with a brilliant smile that he was quick to return. Alexis turned that formidable frown on her, but it was blithely ignored. Cassandra’s attention sharply turned on Vera when she hissed something unpleasant under her breath and shoved her chair back, stalking into the house.

“Trouble brewing,” Alexis murmured. Heather and Cassandra said nothing, their eyes briefly glittering with a touch of luminescence as they locked on Vera’s retreating form.





“I know what you’re up to.”

Tiffany, who was laughing softly at something one of Todd’s companions said, quieted and turned to face Vera. Brows arched on high and painted mouth puckered in a moue of surprise, she batted her lashes and pressed a hand to her chest. “Excuse me?”

“I know what you’re up to,” Vera repeated, her teeth showing in a shark-like grin, “and don’t play the innocent. It’s so tacky.”

Tiffany stared at Vera, her cheeks flushing. Todd and his friends—as well as a few of the other guests nearby who had “overheard” the conversation—were staring at Vera as though she’d grown another head. With a hasty “excuse us,” Tiffany gestured sharply for Vera to follow her as she spun away from the group, seeking privacy. Speculative, disapproving whispers trailed in their wake, growing louder as they left the room.

Before long they found privacy in the form of a study, bookshelves lining one wall and a set of oxblood chairs placed around a low table and desk. It was all Tiffany could do to keep from slamming the door behind them once Vera marched in, right on her heels.

“What is your problem?” Tiffany snapped, eyes flashing as she gestured back the way they had come. “I was in the middle of a very important business deal! Couldn’t you have waited until I closed him before interrupting to bitch at me?”

It was Vera’s turn to flush, though she wasn’t dissuaded. With difficulty, she drew in a few calming breaths, settling her nerves so her eyes wouldn’t glow with her increasing anger.

“You,” she enunciated carefully around growing fangs, “don’t belong here. You’re not part of this community, and I can smell the trouble following you. You should go back to wherever you came from and leave us alone.”

Tiffany sniffed indignantly. “Vera, I don’t know where you got these crazy notions about me, but I’m not here to cause trouble for anyone. All you’re accomplishing right now is embarrassing yourself.”

“I don’t care what the others say. You’re up to something. I’m going to find out what.”

Tiffany met her gaze, her jaw set and fists clenching at her sides. Her nostrils flared as she tilted her head up, causing her carefully maintained coiffure to shift, blond strands slithering over her shoulders and hissing softly against the silken fabric. Her voice took on the same whispery tones—soft, dangerous, and deadly.

“You might want to watch yourself, Vera. Dig too deep and you won’t like what you find.”

Vera watched her go, the door clicking quietly shut behind her as the sound of her Prada heels clacking against the marble floors faded into the hum of the party.