La Vida Vampire

“And Gorman swears up and down that it was planted, right?”


“You got it. There’s no sign of a .22 rifle, and if Yolette was set adrift in a leaking boat, it hasn’t shown up yet.”

“What about the soil samples from the planter box?”

“No word yet. Hell, that could take a week. And,” he added darkly, “Etienne made good on his threat to call the French consulate. A small jet is on standby to fly him out of here Monday with Yolette’s body.”

“A small jet to go all the way to France?”

“We think he may go to Miami. There’s no flight plan filed yet.”

“Saber, how soon do you have to leave for Hastings?”

He glanced at his watch. “The sooner the better. March doesn’t seem to have a deputy available tonight. If I can wrap up the bite business quick, I can be back before nine and catch up with your tour.”

“Before you go,” I said, heading for my desk and laptop, “let’s see if Eugene sent those photos he took in Daytona.”

“What do you expect to find?”

“I don’t know, but it can’t hurt to look.”

I slipped into my chair and retrieved my e -mail. Saber leaned over my shoulder, his hand braced on the desk. A few minutes, and there they were in an attachment, Eugene ’s surveillance photos ranging from wide angles to telephoto shots. They weren’t all as clear on my system as they might be firsthand, but he ’d captured several good shots of Yolette and a frightenedlooking Rachelle.

“What did Yolette do or threaten to do that would spook a vampire as much as Rachelle looks spooked?” I asked aloud.

“And, if she was under Ike’s protection, why didn’t she ask him to help her?” Saber said.

“I don’t know, but get a load of Laurel in this one.” I enlarged a picture of Laurel shoving Rachelle away from the club’s doorway.

“Pull up the shot of Etienne in the car again,” Saber directed.

I did and enlarged it several times until we could make out the flask in his hand. A flask that seemed to wink silver in the parking lot light.

“Why carry a flask when the club sells booze?” I asked.

“Maybe he had something else in it. Is there a shot of him drinking from the flask?”

I scrolled through the photos again, enlarging here and there, but only one showed the flask.

“Damn, another dead end,” I said, closing the file.

“At least these put the Fourniers with Rachelle on the night before she was found dead,” Saber said. “And did you notice Gorman’s not in these shots? Not even in the wide-angle crowd shots.”

“Which means,” I said as I stood, “he wasn’t close enough to pose a threat, even if he was armed.”

Saber cupped the back of my head and stepped close to me. “I need to hit the road, but promise me you’ll be careful.” He moved his mouth over mine and murmured, “I have plans for us.”



Saber left at six fifteen with his gear, but his declaration of having plans for us lingered. I replayed it as I finished my hair, drank my last Starbloods, and cleaned Maggie’s suite. Not that Saber had left a mess. He’d even stripped the sheets and cleaned the bathroom.

I made the mistake of inhaling his scent from the sheets as I carried them to the laundry room, and fantasies exploded. Us in a hotel room making each other pant and sweat and climaxing at the same time the way it happened in romance novels. Too bad I’d taken The Kama Sutra back to the library. I got so hot thinking about getting wild with Saber, I had to stick my head in the freezer.

Which is where Maggie found me when she blew in the door at seven.

“Is the ice maker on the fritz again?” she asked as she propped her little wheeled suitcase by the table.

“Uh, no,” I stuttered and slammed the freezer door. “It’s fine. I’m just, um, making sure it’s on.”

She gave me a raised-brow look. “Did Saber do something to upset you?”

“Oh, no. Not a thing. We’re fine.”

“Where is he any—” Maggie broke off and stared. “Cesca, why on earth are you blushing?”

“Come talk to me while I get ready for the tour,” I said, rounding the island and heading for my room.

“What tour? I thought you had tonight off.”

“I’m filling in,” I told her as I broke out my makeup supplies. “Saber had to go to Hastings to investigate something, but he’s coming back later.”

Maggie leaned against the bathroom counter and frowned. “Is what’s-his-face, Stony, on the streets again? Because I don’t feel good about you working with that nut running loose.”

“They can’t lock Gorman up, Maggie, but it’s fine,” I assured her while I swiped on eye color. “He took a good beating, you know, and I doubt he’s up to following me around tonight.”

I didn’t remember if I’d told her Etienne was our real culprit, but I didn’t mention it now. She’d only freak.

“I can go with you,” Maggie offered.