Real Vampires Have Curves

"Exactly. Discussion is closed, Gloriana. You're coming home with me now." Blade grabbed my arm. Would he ever learn that ordering me around never got him what he wanted? Probably not. And it made me sad. Because we, as a couple, were definitely over in that case.

"I'm not going anywhere. This Westwood character isn't going to ruin the best move I ever made." I gestured around the shop.

"Vintage Vamp's is my creation and a success so far. I'm not about to tuck my tail between my legs and skulk off into the night."

"Blade's right, Glory. You should get out of here." Derek sat up and put the cloth on his forehead. "Westwood aimed that camera phone at both of us. He has our pictures."

Damian cursed in Italian. "You can move into my castle, Gloriana. I'll hire guards. They can escort you to and from the shop and stay with you—"

"She's not your responsibility, Sabatini." Blade still held my arm. Like I was shackled to him. Valdez barked just before someone knocked on the door. Blade dropped my arm and whipped out his broadsword. Damian looked through the glass. "It's Diana Marchand. She runs the coffee shop next door. I'm going to let her in. She knows a lot of mortals. Glory's right. Only a mortal is going to get close enough to Westwood to figure out how he's identifying us." Glory's right. Beautiful words and all too rare in my lifetime. Damian flipped open the locks and let Diana in. I'd met her while I was setting up the shop. I'd been way too busy to do much more than say hi and wave, but I liked her. For one thing, she was vamp like me. Turned on a day when she should have been at a Weight Watchers meeting. Plump, short and with a southern belle thing going on.

She called her place Mugs and Muffins. I'd heard more than one customer call it Jugs and Muffins. One look at Diana and you know why.

"What're y'all doing over here?" Diana's wide-eyed gaze was fixed on Blade. Well, he did stand out. He slid his broadsword back in its scabbard and bowed in her direction.

"Jeremy Blade, madam, at your service." He looked around the room. "Do you know everyone else here?" I really wanted to smack him. For being here. For looking like a Highland throwback. For moving closer to Di and eyeing her

"jugs" appreciatively.

Diana knew a great marketing tool when she saw one. She and her waitresses wore low-cut spandex tops over lacy edged bras in contrasting colors. I had to admire her entrepreneurial spirit. And hate her Dolly Parton—sized attributes. Tonight they were showcased in black lycra with just a hint of pink lace.

"Gee, Jerry, this isn't a soiree at the castle." I think I could have stripped naked and Blade wouldn't have been able to tear his gaze from Di's assets.

"She's got you there, Blade." Damian laughed as he flipped the deadbolts again. Of course he'd read my mind. Men love female rivalry and pray for a cat fight. Can you tell I'm down on men?

"Be nice, Damian." Diana looked around. "Sure, I know everyone else here. So what's up, Glory? I have customers who are waiting to get into this shop. Not that I'm complaining. They're drinking my coffee while they wait for y'all to open again."

"An incident, Diana. You know about Brent Westwood?" Damian slung his arm around her.

"Hands off, hot stuff." Diana lifted Damian's hand off her shoulder and smiled sweetly. There was obviously a story there. Damian frowned and moved closer to me. I shook my head and he stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Sure I know about Westwood. I've got that vampire-killin' lowlife's picture right next to my cash register." She looked at me and ignored Damian. "Why? What about him?"

"He was here. He left this." Blade handed her Westwood's card.

"Oh, my God!" She leaned against Blade and fanned her cheeks with the card. "So close!" I swear, if Diana swooned, I was leaving her on the floor. She rallied and winked at me as Blade helped her into a chair.

"Are you all right?" Damian moved in until she put up her hand like a stop sign.

"I'm fine, sugar. As you would see if you checked a little higher." Diana looked at me and rolled her eyes. Of course Blade stayed close, positioned for a good view of that pink lace bra. He'd always had an appreciation for a full-figured woman. Diana was just his type. Fine. I did not care.

"But what I don't understand"—Diana looked at the card again—"is why he would warn whoever his target was that he was hunting them."

"Me, Diana, he left the card for me." Derek shot to his feet. "I've got to call Freddy. Maybe it's time for us to move on. Blade's right. Running is the answer. If this guy got MacTavish, screw it. I don't stand a chance." Derek pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial. He moved to the back of the store and started talking rapidly.

"Running is not the answer. I never said that." Blade ground out the words.

"No, that would be cowardly." Damian jingled the change in his pockets. "Does Blade look cowardly to you, Diana?"

"No, indeed." Di smiled and gave Blade a look that made him puff out his chest. You had to give the girl credit, she had both men eating out of the palm of her hand. I should take lessons. Not.

"He probably left the card to put us on the alert. Westwood likes the hunt. Here, we're sitting ducks. No sport in that." I saw Blade nod, his face solemn. He was probably reliving the night he'd lost Mac. I started to move closer when Damian stepped between us.

"You should close this shop, Gloriana. Why present such an easy target?" Damian put his hand on my shoulder.

"This shop pays my bills, Damian." I shrugged and he moved his hand. "Can we get back to Westwood?"

"But if this sorry so-and-so's got some kind of new technology, how are we going to fight that?" Diana said this to me.

"Mortals." I was getting really tired of men. Was everything a competition? This danger should unite us. Vamps against Westwood. Damian nodded and even Blade looked thoughtful.

"Mortals?" Diana looked puzzled. Could she actually be a vamp who didn't read minds? I suddenly wanted to hug her.

"We need mortals to get close to Westwood and find out how he can tell if we're vampire. Then we can try to counteract whatever he's got." Not all vamps are comfortable around mortals, but Diana's coffee shop swarmed with them. "You know any who might help us?"

"I've got some mortals I do business with from time to time." Diana glanced toward her shop. "Tony Crapetta is over there right now drinking one of my special grande triple mocha lattes. You know him, Damian."

"How is a man who likes sissy drinks going to be of help in this situation?" Blade had just stepped in it, big time.

"Sissy drinks?" Diana looked him up and down. "If you weren't a freak prehistoric vampire, you'd probably kill to taste my triple mocha latte."

Well, that love affair was over. And if Blade didn't get rid of that broadsword, I was going to find a wooden hanger and test my vamp strength.

"She's right, Blade. I do know Tony Crapetta. He's got connections that could help us." Damian moved out of the way when Diana stood and walked toward the door.

"I don't like using mortals." Blade frowned.

Damian sneered. "Quit being all muscle and no brain, Blade."

"By God!" There went the hand to the broadsword again.

"I've had enough of this. Can you get Tony to come over here, Di? Does he know you're vampire?" I stopped her at the door.

"He knows. He saw me change once. I could have wiped his memory, but I decided he might be useful. He knows about Damian, too." She smiled at Damian. "That was before we split."

"You broke my heart, you mean." Damian put his hand over his alleged heart. "But she's right about Tony. He's done a few jobs for me too. And he knows I'll rip his throat out if he crosses me."

"He's scared to death of vampires, but also thinks it's cool to work for them. A groupie." Diana shook her head. "I told him I wouldn't use him for feeding as long as he kept our secret. But you should see what he wears around his neck. In case I get overcome by bloodlust." She winked. "I don't have the heart to tell him I satisfy my thirst with a canned drink." Derek had come out of the back room, still looking shaky.

"Are you going home?" I guessed I was losing my employee already. Too bad. I had a feeling Derek would be a great salesman. He nodded. "Frederick is coming to pick me up. Sorry, Glory."

"That's okay. You've had a scare. Like I just told the gang here, I think we're safe in the shop. This Westwood character warned you for a reason. He probably plans to stalk you." I had to swallow. "Or me. For sport."

"Brave, Gloriana." Damian gave Blade a look. "What a woman."

Brave or stupid? Whichever, I wasn't going to just run or roll over and play… dead. I pushed down the urge to cry, maybe against one of the broad strong masculine chests so readily available. I hadn't survived this long, much of it on my own, by being a wimp.

"I'm reopening. I'm not going to let Westwood scare me away." I looked at Derek. "No offense, Derek."

"You're right. What's wrong with me? I'm not usually such a coward." He ran his hands through his hair, then threw back his shoulders and got a combative gleam in his eyes. "I love my life here. I don't want to start over, damn it." I turned to Blade and Damian. "Why don't you get Diana's mortal and take him upstairs? See if he has any ideas on how we can get the scoop on Westwood's technology. Valdez and I will stay down here and run the shop."

"I don't like it. Come upstairs with us." Blade put his hand on my shoulder.

"No. And can't you change into a pair of jeans or something? That outfit screams 'Stake me.' " I looked around the store. Vintage jeans would be a big seller. And old band touring T-shirts. Freddy had left his zoot suits, but I didn't see that as much of an improvement over a plaid and a kilt as far as maintaining a low profile went. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">