La Vida Vampire

I didn’t even try for tactful. “What are you doing here?”


“Taking in the sights,” he said mildly.

“You’re taking my tour?”

“Who’s this guy?” Reporter Paul asked, all eagerness.

“I’m a new…acquaintance of Ms. Marinelli’s,” Saber said.

“She doesn’t look happy to see you,” Millie shot back.

“I’m hoping to grow on her.” He flashed the kind of smile meant to charm the support hose off the older ladies. Shalimar Millie didn’t fall for it, bless her. “Humph. Handsome is as handsome does.”

“Hell,” Reporter Paul groused. “I thought you were that Stony guy. The one stalking the French couple.”

“Oh, no,” Millie supplied. “That man had a long scar on his face. If he tries to pull anything tonight, we’ll shoot him.”

Paul blinked long eyelashes.

“That’s right,” I jumped in. “These ladies are armed with their digital cameras tonight. So is Mick. ” I pointed to my colleague’s goofily grinning face. “He’s also a tour guide. Maybe you should talk to him.”

The reporter brightened and headed toward Mick, whose goofy grin morphed into a dirty look at me. I spun toward Millie and her merry band and shooed them back a few paces. “Ixnay on the gun-ay talk-ay, ladies,” I whispered, hoping Saber couldn’t hear.

“Why? I have a permit,” Millie said.

“To carry concealed weapons?” I hissed in frustration.

“We’re seniors. The fuzz won’t bust us,” Silver Kay said.

“Not unless we actually shoot someone,” Grace added.

Millie shook her head at me. “My dear, you’re looking awfully frazzled. Did you get a chance to, uh, eat tonight?”

“Maybe you should’ve had a double,” Saber drawled.

I jerked around to find him closer than he should’ve been. Super Hearing Fails Vampire Again. Millie sniffed. “Maybe you’re the problem, Mr.—”

“Are you the vampire?” a new voice on my left demanded.

I glanced over my shoulder to see four women dressed in more leather than an entire herd of cows. Black leather bustiers, second-skin pants, ankle boots with three-inch heels, and long coats. Their acrylic nails—and exposed midriffs—were stark white in contrast. So were the fake fangs flashing behind bright red lips. None of them more than twenty -five or-six, they made the goth gang look mature and well-dressed by comparison. Worse, faint bite marks dotted their necks and exposed arms. I was thinking, Yikes, but must’ve nodded.

The tallest of the foursome, long-legged and black-haired, looked me up and down. “We’re going on your tour.”

“To check you out for the Daytona vampirth,” a blonde added, lisping the s. Pointing to the tallest girl first, she introduced them as Claire, Barb, and Tetha. “And I’m Thithi.”

I almost said, “I’m Thethca,” but caught myself when Barb and Tessa, both redheads, waggled their fingers and flashed big fangy smiles at Saber.

“Hi, Deke.”

“We’ve missed seeing you at the club,” Tessa pouted.

Yeesh. Wasn’t this just peachy. Gun-toting seniors, a reporter, Saber, and now blood bunnies. That’s what they had to be. Human women who wore fake fangs and got their jollies hanging out with vampires. I ’d read an article about blood bunnies, but seeing them was another plane of weird. If Stony did show, it’d be the highlight of the evening. Saber had mentioned Ike this afternoon. Now the blood bunnies showed up. Coincidence? I thought not. I wanted to bang my head on the nearest coquina wall.

I plastered on a smile instead. “Welcome to the Old Coast Ghost Walk. We’re a bit late getting started, so hand me your tickets, and let’s get right along, shall we?”





NINE


The biting ghost didn’t manifest at the oldest drugstore, but the angry spirit of Fay ’s House made up for it. When Fay’s wrathful face loomed in the window, her mouth moving in silent curses, a fierce wind gust rose to sound as if she were calling the hell-hounds on us. The other tourists didn’t seem shaken, but the blood bunnies screamed like preschoolers. A bigger person might’ve been sympathetic. I wasn’t. I gave Fay a thumbs-up. Probably shouldn’t encourage the cranky spirit, but who did these bimbos think they were, coming to check me out? More important, had this little field trip been their idea, or had the head honcho, Ike, put them up to it? If so, why? VPA Dave had told me Ike ruled his illegal but overlooked nest with an iron fang, but he’d never so much as acknowledged my existence. Until now.