La Vida Vampire

Saber paused and shuffled his papers.

“Next we have Millie. Didn’t like Fourniers and seemed to disapprove of Yolette. Yolette insulted her. Any connection to Yolette’s dead husband? Carries concealed. Motive to kill? If related to the dead husband, could be revenge, but for what? Did Millie know where couple was staying? Did she know Yolette would be on honeymoon in St. Augustine? If so, how?”

“It does stretch coincidence to be on the same tour by pure dumb luck,” I said.

“By light-years,” Saber agreed. “Let’s do Mick next.”

“It’s a waste of energy and paper to list him.”

“Cesca.”

“All right. Shoot.”

“Mick. Didn’t seem to like or dislike the Fourniers. Unlikely he knew where they were staying. Has a bad history with vampires but appears friendly with Cesca. Has gun permit but doesn’t appear to carry. Might kill to protect Cesca or Janie.”

Saber paused. “Did you get all that?”

“No, I played tic-tac-toe instead.”

He flashed a grin and tapped my paper. “We’re almost done. Etienne Fournier. Opportunity a given. Means possible, though no weapons found when house searched. Motive? Bears looking into. Yolette ticked with him on Tuesday night. Why? Did he have anything to do with death of first husband? Did she?”

I finished and looked up. “Shouldn’t we list what we know about Yolette herself?”

“Go for it.”

“Yolette,” I wrote as I talked. “Widowed, maybe by accident, maybe by murder. Etienne second husband. Or were there more? How long had she known him? Claims they had sex with vampires. Did she and the now-dead husband also have sex with vampires? Claims Gorman followed them around the city prior to Monday. How long had they been here? Peeved with Etienne on Tuesday. Why? Run-in with Millie. Could Yolette’s dead husband be Millie’s nephew? Yolette said she never met the aunt. Would Millie know who Yolette is? Know that Yolette would be in St. Augustine?”

When I finished the list, I looked at Saber. “So what now?”

“Until we get a lead on Gomer, I talk to March about digging deeper into the Fourniers and Millie.”

“Why not do a little digging ourselves? There are lots of resources online.”

“We can try it.” He cleared his throat. “I want to go back to something else, though.”

“For Pete’s sake, what? I’ve told you everything.”

“You haven’t,” he said steadily, “told me how you became a vampire.”

I went still for a split second, then said lightly, “You mean what was a nice girl like me doing with a nasty bunch of monsters?”

He shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Well, it’s not like I raised my hand and said, ‘Bite me, bite me.’” I flipped a hand as if to bat away the question. “It’s ancient history. Why do you care?”

“Because you’re so damned determined to be an unvampire, and I want to know why.” He caught my hand and tugged me into the chair beside him. “What did the monsters do to you, Cesca?”





THIRTEEN


I didn’t want to go there, to the dark time when I’d lost control of my life and my future. I’d despised being a victim, but I hadn’t been strong enough to end my own half-life in order to escape the demi-hell that had been Normand’s court. Now Saber was asking questions I’d hoped he wouldn’t. Unlike the newspaper reporter who’d written of Maggie’s rescuing me, Saber would pester and probe until I spilled my guts enough to make him happy. Or he thought I’d spilled my guts. But I was in charge, and I went for flippant and light like I always do.

“Other than change my entire life, not much. No beating, no raping.” I paused. “Actually, I was bored stiff most of those three years.”

“You’re dodging me. You were psychic before they caught you, right? Normand —” He pronounced it as the French would. “—knew you. He had his eye on you all along. Am I right?”

“He and an old suitor of mine, yeah,” I admitted. “How did you know?”

He kept his gaze level. “I’ve studied vampires for a long time. Even the modern ones like to have a psychic or witch or sensitive of some kind around. It’s a power thing, and if the person won’t cooperate willingly, the vamps threaten families and friends.” He paused. “That happen in your case?”

I nodded. “I gave a few command performance readings when I was the mortal me, but the king always let me go home. He cooked his own goose when he turned me, though. Being underalive screwed with The Gift.”

His mouth twitched. “Bet he was ticked.”

“And then some,” I agreed. Old Normand had been so angry, he’d turned redder than the blood he drank.

“Who was the old suitor?”