Saber arched a brow. “Onstage?”
“I may not have been a headliner,” the vampire said with exaggerated dignity, “but I had a gift for making people laugh. Even if we couldn’t do the matinees.”
“We?”
“I had a partner for my routines. Jemina. I met her in New York City. We moved to Atlanta together.”
“Is she still living?” I asked.
His brown eyes blurred, and a wave of sadness hit me.
“Yes, but she says I’m too far behind the times. I’m not funny anymore, and she doesn’t want me.” He touched the wound on his head. “Her new boyfriend gave me this.”
“With a silver knife?” Saber fired. “He’s not a vampire?”
“Oh, he is, but he seems immune or something. Anyway, I knew there was no use in staying, so I used Google Earth to navigate to St. Augustine, and here I am.”
“Which brings us back to the real question,” I said. “Why are you here?”
“To ask for your help.”
“Help doing what?”
He clasped his hands together so tightly, his knuckles whitened even more than a vampire’s should. “To build a new career. I want to be a stand-up comic.”
Saber and I exchanged a glance of disbelief.
“Oh, I don’t expect you to teach me to be funny again,” Jo-Jo hurried on. “The thing is, even if I had a good routine, Master Vlad runs his nest like a fiefdom. We have jobs—I’m a technician on a computer help line—but our jobs are low-profile. He’d never let me work in a comedy club. Even if a higher salary increased the amount of tribute I could pay him.”
“Tribute?” I echoed. “Like taxes or like protection money?”
“I think of it as room and board.”
I frowned. “Can’t you just move out? Leave the nest but still live in Atlanta?”
“Not and stay alive.” Jo-Jo shuddered. “The master would make an example of me. He may track me down and execute me just for leaving. That’s why I asked for your protection.”
I should’ve said that I didn’t want any part of this. That bucking the head vamp in Atlanta was so not going in my day planner. But, darn it, this is supposed to be a free country. Even for vampires. We’re a flipping protected species, for heaven’s sake. Almost nothing makes me fighting mad, but injustice will do the trick. This Atlanta creep was cruisin’ for a bruisin’ if he thought he could kill vampires just for leaving his highly illegal—if ignored—nest.
“Cesca,” Saber said, jarring me out of my thoughts. “Let’s excuse Jo-Jo and talk privately for a few minutes.”
“Why?”
“Because I know that look you have. Do us a favor, Jo-Jo. Take a walk.”
“To where?”
“Around the block.”
Jo-Jo glanced at me, then bolted for the door. At least he didn’t slam it.
“Now just what look do I have?”
“Your avenging angel look.”
“It’s unfair, Saber.”
“I know, but do you want to pick this battle?”
I turned to him, took his hands in mine. “Do you? Vlad sounds like the kind of guy you used to hunt.”
“Yeah, he does, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be here if the jerk does come after Jo-Jo. Or you.”
“And I might not be able to take on Vlad, because I don’t have enough superpowers?”
“You’ve barely explored your superpowers, but you can defend yourself to a point. And we have the Vampire Protection Agency for backup.”
“Backup how?”
He squeezed my hand. “I’ll check out Jo-Jo’s story and get the scoop on Vlad. I’ll also ask the Atlanta VPA agent about this immunity to silver. That bugs me.”
“Immunity sounds flat-out impossible. As long as you’re talking with the VPA people, will you ask them to watch for any vampires who might be on the move out of their usual territory?”
“In case this Vlad guy sends a hit man after Jo-Jo?”
I nodded. “Of course, that’s only going to work if all the Atlanta vampires are wearing their GPS implants.”
“Honey, they have to be. The rogue vamps are dead or on the extermination list.”
“Oh, right.” I thought a minute. “Let’s say we help Jo-Jo. Where is he going to stay?”
My front door opened with a whoosh, and Jo-Jo stuck his head in. “I got a motel room when I flew in this morning. I’ll stay there.”
I bit back a grin at his eagerness, and waved him to the chair. “Is your room sunproof?”
“I slept in the bathtub with both the bathroom and room door locked, and the Do Not Disturb sign out.”
“Not the most secure,” Saber said, “but it’ll do. How are you set for money?”
“I have enough to last awhile.”
“Enough for new clothes and a haircut?” I pressed.
Jo-Jo raised a protective hand to his head. “Clothes, yes. The haircut I’ll have to think about.”
“All right, just one more thing I need to ask.” I took a steadying breath, glanced at Saber’s dear face, then at Jo-Jo’s expectant one. “How do you know my formal royal title?”
“I read the articles about you and Saber. About the way you solved the French Bride murder case.”