Always the Vampire

Once inside, we didn’t limit ourselves to chocolate. Lemon, coconut, strawberry, and banana cakes made an appearance at the tasting table. I stuck to savoring nibbles. Maggie groaned in ecstasy over whole slices. Small slices, true, but I don’t know where she put all that cake.

Daphne was clearly delighted that every sample met with our approval, and beamed over our final order that included a second chocolate groom’s cake and a banana coconut sheet cake with coconut icing. Daphne talked Maggie out of a lemon cake but promised threedozen lemon tarts on the house and agreed to add another layer to the traditional wedding cake to be decorated in a Victorian motif.

I faithfully recorded the order in my maid of honor binder, while Maggie insisted on paying Daphne in full. I wasn’t surprised since she’d done the same with the caterer on Wednesday. The florist and rental company had three-quarter payments down, with the balance to be paid before the ceremony.

Maggie was nothing if not efficient.

We chatted outside for a few minutes after the tasting. I started to tell her that I’d seen Triton and made peace with my memories. Maggie knew all about my early years and even knew Triton was a shifter. But Maggie had an appointment with the photographer, so I let it go.

I’d turned my cell off during the taste test but had no messages from Saber when I checked at a stoplight. I had the early ghost-tour shift tonight, a special one with a book club from Palm Coast. I wore my emerald empire-waist gown, one fashioned to evoke the English Regency period, and decided to take the group on a slightly longer tour.

We visited Elizabeth at the City Gates, the characters at the Huguenot and Tolomato cemeteries, dropped by Fay’s House, then headed to the bay front and Casa de la Paz.

“There are several versions of this story,” I told my tourists when we stood across the avenue from the house, “but here is the one I like best. In the early 1900s, a young woman I’ll call Philla came to St. Augustine to recuperate from an illness. Here she met a young man who had also come to town for his health. Let’s say he’s James. Well, Philla and James resided here, in the same boardinghouse, where they eventually fell in love and planned to marry.

“The day before they were to leave, James insisted on going fishing against Philla’s wishes. A storm blew up and James drowned. Heartsick, Philla’s health worsened until she finally died in the boardinghouse, alone and in mourning for James. Now she wanders the halls or waits on the staircase, valise in hand, asking if it’s time to leave.”

“Is she the bride spirit at the Tolomato cemetery?” a lady asked.

“No, that’s a different ghost. Philla isn’t seen outside Casa de la Paz as far as I know.”

“Then who’s that standing on the porch?” another woman asked.

We all turned to stare, and sure enough, a woman in a period traveling outfit, complete with a hat and valise, stood on the wide porch. She seemed to gaze toward the Matanzas Bay inlet, then looked directly at my group before she turned toward the house and vanished.

My group and I exchanged wide glances, and I admit to having chills and a tear in my eye. I love it when our ghosts surprise me and give my tourists an experience to remember.

I bid my group farewell at the waterwheel, stowed my lantern, and headed to the office to check out and remind Candice I would be out of town over the weekend. I also mentioned needing time off the next few weeks.

“The wedding?” she asked.

I merely smiled.

She nodded sagely. “That maid of honor gig is a killer.”

I laughed and waved and stepped out of the office onto St. George Street not looking where I was going. I ran full force into Saber.

“Thank God I found you,” he said in a rush, his hands on my shoulders to steady us both. “We need to get to Cosmil’s.”

My gut tensed. “Has he been hurt again?”

“Not yet. The Council of Ancients headquarters has been attacked, and Cosmil is frantic that we’re next on the hit list.”





SEVEN




“Fill me in on the attack,” I said once we were speeding south on US 1 toward 206 and the turn off to Cosmil’s place.

Not that my first reaction had been so sedate. No, my mouth had gone dry, I’d gripped Saber’s hands, and I’d scanned the sidewalk for magical assassins. Hell, I’d even looked skyward as if expecting an air strike by Oz’s flying monkeys. I’d been that spooked by Saber’s blunt announcement. At this rate, I’d be the only vampire on the planet with chronic high blood pressure.

Calmer now, I listened as Saber answered me without taking his eyes off the road.

“You know the Council is in an uproar over Legrand’s murder and the body disappearing. Well, the members closed the local portals, but what they didn’t do—or didn’t do well enough—was put protection around the compound.”

“The compound is a physical place?”