Real Vampires Get Lucky

Page 27

"Aw, I didn't say that. Read those texts to me. Maybe it's a teenager we can scare, then whammy into forgetting the whole thing."
"Exactly!" I wiped my eyes. "Sorry for the meltdown."
"You're entitled." Valdez gave me a gentle head butt. "Stuff an envelope with a few bills and paper or something to make it look fat enough for five thou. Then we wait to spring the trap. I can stake out the drop spot during the day. I figure that with the security in the building, as long as I'm close, you'll be okay for one day. He's not going to let big money like that sit for long. I'll like seeing this guy's reaction when a dog takes him down. I can do a pretty mean whammy myself if I can get in his face."
"Thanks, puppy."
"Wait! Play that video again."
"Why?" Personally, I was sick of seeing it. Not only was it proof positive that I was a vampire, but it was unflattering as hell. The camera adds at least twenty pounds, trust me on that. I played it again. Yep, that swing coat still billowed around me like a damned tent.
"Look at that angle. I swear this was taken from above us. I'd say with a powerful zoom lens and from the roof of our building."
"That means . . ."
"It's no mortal teenager we're up against, Blondie. We've got a paranormal screwing us over." Valdez sighed. "Give me another muffin. I'm gonna need my strength if I'm goin' head-to-head with another one of us."
"Forget it. Too dangerous." We argued about it until we were both exhausted. One thing we did agree on: any paranormal who could shape-shift could have landed on our roof and taken the video. No way did we think it was anyone who actually lived in our building. We knew our neighbors, and none of them would pull a scam like this. At least we didn't think ... This whole thing was wearing on me, but at least now I had someone to talk to about it. And that helped, even if we couldn't figure out how to bring this to a satisfactory conclusion.
We still hadn't received drop instructions by the time Derek carried my case of Bloodthirsty up the stairs for me right before dawn. I hugged my clerk good-bye, shed a few tears because I was really worried that Freddy was more involved with his father than we knew, then went inside to a silent apartment.
"Well, Valdez, looks like we finally have the peace and quiet we crave. Guess we'd better enjoy it while we can."
"You said it, Blondie." Valdez yawned and stretched. "Can't say I'm too happy about the way Steve moved in on Lucky and Beth the way he did. There's something off there."
I stopped on my way to the bathroom. "But you practically vouched for him."
"Yeah. I know I did." Valdez scratched behind one ear. "If I didn't know better, I'd think the son of a bitch had worked some mind control on me."
"Oh, swell. That's reassuring."
"Well, Brittany thinks she can handle anything. And Lucky has told you repeatedly she doesn't want you running her life. So I guess we just back off and see what happens." Valdez ambled into the kitchen and nosed open the pantry. "Before you get involved in the bathroom, would you open this box of Twinkies? I'm starved." I did the necessary, patting him on the head on my way to brushing my teeth. No lectures now on cruelty to animals. Reminder: Valdez is not a dog. He's a shape-shifter with a little something extra. Twinkies won't hurt him. And he'd die if I gave him dog food. I threaten him with it, but I'd never follow through. I rarely shape-shift because I have this phobia about it, but if I ever did turn myself into a dog (shudder), trust me, I wouldn't suddenly crave kibble.
Once I was ready, I opened the bedroom door and invited Valdez to jump up on the foot of my bed. He guards me through the daylight hours.
"Hey, those clown demons were really something, weren't they?" I was about thirty seconds from lights out and refused to spend my last half minute of consciousness on my blackmail woes.
Valdez seemed to get it. He laid his head next to my foot. "Confession here. Brittany and I were clown demons together once for the Carvarellis."
I sat up in bed. "You're kidding me."
"Knock. Knock."
"No way."
"Oh, yeah."
"Why?"
"The pay's great."
"It would have to be."
"Yeah, you think it's nerve-racking to watch?" Valdez gave a doggy laugh. "I tell you there are hundreds of really lame knock knock jokes and I know them all."
"Tell me one."
"You sure?"
"Shoot."
"Knock. Knock."
"Who's there?"
"Line."
"Line who?"
Sunrise.
"Quit staring at your phone, girlfriend. I'm sure Jeremiah will call later. His mother is probably dragging him around town, making him play dutiful son, no?" Flo dropped a stack of boxes on the coffee table. "This should cheer you up. I will let you sell these in your shop. Vintage Gucci. The heels are too low, and they pinch my little toes. So I let them go." She grinned and sat on the couch beside me.
"Wow! Thanks, Flo." Since my roommate was notoriously reluctant to part with her fabulous shoe collection, I tried to look suitably thrilled. But I was worried that Jerry hadn't called. With Mag and Mara double-teaming him, he was probably being subjected to an endless round of "Why Glory's all wrong for you." Now throw in a daughter and-My phone beeped, signaling a new text message.
"See? What did I tell you?" Flo picked up the remote control and turned on the TV. "I won't start it yet, but I think you need to see this DVD I picked up last night. It will get your, um, juices flowing for Jeremiah. Trust me on this."
"It's not Jerry calling. It's a text. Jerry doesn't text." He's not that big on technology, though he knows his way around a computer. I read the message quickly, then swallowed a lump the size of one of Flo's Guccis. I thought about showing the text to Flo. Valdez bumped me, apparently abandoning his dinner of canned spaghetti and meatballs I'd nuked for him earlier to check on me.
"From you know who?" Valdez glanced at Flo. "We letting her in on this?"
"Glory, look! It's a new song from our very favorite singer of all time." Flo was grinning and practically bouncing on the couch. I shook my head and stood to take the phone into the kitchen. "Be right back, Flo. Don't start without me. Valdez needs dessert."
"What does it say?" Valdez sat in front of me.
"See for yourself." I put the phone at his nose level.
"TOMORROW NITE. LEAVE $5000 CASH IN BROWN SACK UNDER TRASH CAN NEXT TO SWING SET IN
PARK ACROSS FROM UR SHOP. NO TRICKS OR TV TIME."
"Well, that's pretty specific." Valdez shook his head. "You got five thousand bucks? Just in case?"
"Are you kidding? I could scrounge up maybe another three or four hundred. Do a cash advance of a thousand on my credit card, but the interest . . ." I shut the phone and jammed it into my pocket. "Maybe I could stall. Write a hot check and stuff it in there."
"Text says cash."
"You know once the video goes public, the money source dries up." I straightened my shoulders. "I say we put a hundred bucks in a sack with a note explaining the deal. An easy payment plan, or we take our chances." Valdez smiled. "Gutsy. And worth a shot. It's not like another paranormal would really want to go to the media."
"Exactly! You start a vampire-hunting frenzy, and all sorts of interesting things could be exposed. And the video could have been staged. I doubt the news would show it unless the person who took it came forward to verify it."
"Now you're talking. I say you make this the last payment. Put one dollar in the sack, and dare them to come out with the video." Valdez bumped against my leg. "Open up that box of doughnuts you bought at the store. I feel like celebrating. We are calling this sucker's bluff."
I dropped two doughnuts in his dish and tried to feel as positive as he did. Did I dare go through with this? Could I afford not to? I sat beside Flo on the couch, glad for a chance to forget my troubles for a while.
"Okay, girlfriend. Prepare to be amazed." She grinned and hit play on the remote. Twenty minutes later we'd both been amazed. Twice. And we were about to start a third round. Valdez had retreated to my bedroom, burying his head under my pillow.
"He's still got the hottest body I've ever seen. Sorry, Jerry." I stretched out my legs, knocking over a shoe box. "And what I could do to that body." We both sighed and closed our eyes.
Right after Flo and I had become roommates, we were walking in the mall, shoe shopping, of course, when we heard music. The song was about a forever kind of love, the one thing we'd both thought we'd found, never quite got the hang of, well, you get it. We loved the deep, sexy voice, the beat and especially the message. Anyway, we looked in the window of the music store, and there was this poster.
Oh, wow. The man seemed to be looking right at us. Tanned, toned, shirtless, of course, and wearing those kind of low-riding jeans that seem to be an inch from . . . So we were hooked. We ran inside, bought CDs, and our obsession was born. Since then we'd had a kind of race going. Whenever one of us found something new from "our guy," the other one was challenged to do the same. eBay loved us.
"Yes, he's perfect! And that song! It touches me. Right, um, here." Flo ran her hand down her stomach, heading south.
"Hey! I know what you mean." I grabbed the DVD case. "When did this come out? I thought we had all of his music."
"It was just released yesterday. Check out this poster." She unfolded it, and we both sighed again. "I saw it in the record-store window when we were walking in the mall. I nagged Richard until we went inside and bought it." Flo grinned and got up to prop the poster on the wall behind our other DVDs and CDs. "Richard's already sick of it. But not of what it does to me. Let's play it again."