Parker’s eyebrows shot up. “Pilates? Really?”
“If I even hinted at the truth there wouldn’t be a drop of blood left in the entire hemisphere and I’d be stuck with an undead army of cougars in Juicy Couture. That’s another thing—when you live forever, you become very skeptical of who you want to take along for the ride.” Nina blew out a sigh. “Forever is a very, very long time.”
I stared into my pudding cup and grinned while Parker squirmed.
“Forever, huh?” he asked.
Nina shrugged. I refilled Parker’s and my coffee mugs, and then the three of us settled at the dining room table.
“Okay then,” I said to Nina, “back to Dirt. Anything we should know about? Has there been anything interesting going on?”
Nina shrugged, pulling the morning paper off the counter. “That’s just it—nothing. Apparently there was some big fight there earlier—Thor demons, I heard—so the place was basically emptied out by the time we got there.”
“Thor demons? Fighting? That’s weird. They’re generally pretty peaceful.”
Parker’s eyes flashed, and I sipped my coffee, continuing, “You know, as far as demons go.”
The lock tumbled on the front door, and then Vlad was standing in the middle of the living room, his black-Drac uniform obscured by an ankle-length leather duster.
I pasted on a smile as Parker’s eyes widened. “Vlad, you remember Parker.”
Vlad’s nostrils flared as if he was smelling something unsavory. “Uh-huh.”
“Nice coat,” Parker said.
Vlad’s eyes flashed. “This is the official uniform—”
“We know, we know, Vlad. It’s the official wacky uniform of the Vampire Empowerment and Restoration Movement,” Nina said.
Parker’s brow furrowed. “VERM?”
“Yeah, that’s why we don’t shorten it.”
Parker leaned back and sipped his coffee. “And what is it that this movement wants to do, exactly?”
“We seek to restore vampires to their former glory and power, when humankind was rightfully subservient to our superior race.”
“Well, la-di-dah,” Parker said under his breath.
“It’s just a lame excuse for a bunch of vamps to run around in capes and top hats,” Nina said.
Vlad glared, his blue-white fangs bared. “We are restoring a centuries-old balance of power. Our race has been practically obliterated, forced to flee, to live underground.”
“I thought sunlight killed vampires?” I piped up.
“That’s beside the point,” Vlad said sharply. “The Movement welcomes all vampires”—he eyed Nina—“no matter how far from the flock they have fallen.”
Nina snorted and flipped a page on her newspaper. “Lame!”
“If you’re not with us, you’re against us, Auntie.”
“Fine!” Nina threw up her hands. “Put me down for a bumper sticker.”
Parker chuckled, and Vlad rolled his eyes, crossed the living room in a burst of cool air, walked into Nina’s closet bedroom, and slammed the door behind him.
“Charming kid,” Parker said, raising his coffee cup.
“You should see him when he’s in a bad mood,” Nina said, scanning the paper.
“Are these VERMS—”
“We don’t shorten it!” Vlad moaned from behind his closed door.
Parker lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Are they violent? Could they possibly be responsible …?”
Nina wagged her head. “No. Like I said, it’s really nothing but a bunch of spoiled rich vamp kids with nothing better to do.”
“I heard that!” Vlad whined.
“Good,” Nina returned. “Then maybe you all will forget this stupid movement and decide to do something worthwhile with your afterlife!” She shook her head at Parker and me. “This new generation of vampire—they think they’re so entitled.” She went back to reading her paper, then fingered the edge of her mug and casually looked up at us. “So, have you two had any luck with your case?”
I wagged my head. “No, not really.”
Parker swallowed and glared at me. “We’re doing okay. Hey, what’s Dirt? You mentioned it a minute ago, before Mr. Dark and Broody blew in.”
“Club,” I said. “Underworld friendly. Mostly vampires, demons …”
“The occasional zombie.” Nina wrinkled her nose. “They have got to get better security at the door.”
Parker looked at me. “Maybe our perp …”
Nina’s head snapped up. “What was that?”
Parker cleared his throat, pushed his empty coffee mug away. “I think our perp might be”—his eyes studied Nina, her slick black hair, her ruby-red lips pursed and heart-shaped—“of the nonhuman persuasion. Have you heard anything around the club? Any chatter about … conquests, attacks?”
“Conquests?” Nina snorted. “We’re demons, not Vikings.”
Parker raised an annoyed eyebrow. “Fine. Have you heard anything?”
Nina sat back in her chair. “I guess there has been some chatter. I don’t really pay attention though; the band was actually pretty decent last night.”