Real Vampires Have Curves

We stepped outside and I got my first look at what used to be a pretty cute vintage clothing shop. Thank God for sprinkler systems. The windows were shattered, the area right in front of them totaled. It didn't look like the fire had penetrated the closed door into the back room, though. I felt wobbly as I picked my way around broken glass. Diana cried out and I saw that Mugs and Muffins had received the same treatment. If Westwood had done this…

"Folks, you've got to let the paramedics look you over. It's our policy." Cute Fireman led Flo over to an ambulance. You can bet she wasn't letting anyone put a stethoscope to her barely beating heart. And, sure enough, the men around her smiled and nodded and let her walk back to us without a checkup. The whammy at work again.

"They won't bother us now. Let's go upstairs." She sniffed. "The whole building smells like smoke. My shoes had better not be ruined."

Diana looked at her with red eyes. "Your shoes? Your shoes' ? Excuse me? Do you see my shop? Glory's shop? We're out of business!"

I grabbed Diana's arm. "We'll be fine. Damian's bound to have insurance." Hope. Pray. Damian Sabatini was Flo's brother, and he owned the building. "Upstairs. Get a shower and some dry clothes."

"Electricity will be off for a while, people." Another fireman, a captain according to his helmet. "Here are some flashlights. But please just gather what you need for the night and make plans to sleep elsewhere. Until the building inspector gives the go ahead to occupy the residences."

I realized we were lucky no one had asked why we all were ready for bed at what must be seven in the evening. We were a pretty strange looking group.

We heard a shout and I saw Diana grabbed by two of her employees. I caught some snatches. Slow time of day. No customers so both workers had been in the back area making up a batch of the muffins the place was famous for. At least neither of them had been hurt.

A car pulled up behind the fire engine and a man jumped out. Damian aka Casanova. He's a sexy vampire, but I'm now immune. He'd played some dirty tricks on me while trying to add another notch to his bedpost. Did I mention he's our landlord? I was actually glad to see him and his look of concern. Please let him have insurance. I sure didn't. I know. I know. But the premiums! I looked back at the shop. Maybe I'd rethink my priorities if my business survived this.

"Florence, Gloriana, are you all right?" He grabbed Flo and looked her over. "Diana?"

"We're all fine, Damian." Flo hugged him before we all turned to head upstairs.

"Wait!" Someone grabbed my arm.

"Donna Mitchell, Channel Six News. The fireman said this is your shop?" A female reporter dressed in a blazer and running shoes thrust a microphone near my mouth. I started to brush her off, then glanced at the front of my shop again.

"Yes. This is… was my place. Vintage Vamp's Emporium, offering fine clothing and accessories from the past at bargain prices." Okay, so I had to plug it, even if I had no idea if I even had a shop any more. Tears filled my eyes and the camera zoomed in. Nothing like a tragedy to boost ratings.

"Any idea what happened, Ms… ?"

"Gloriana St. Clair." I hitched my slipping blanket up on my shoulders. My wet hair dripped into my eyes. I was damn mad and looking pitiful worked for me right now. Valdez pressed himself against my legs and looked up at me soulfully. "We all work night shifts, so my dog here helped wake us up." I patted him on the head and he showed his teeth in a doggy grin. "Someone did this on purpose."

"Are you saying this was arson?" The reporter was all business now, gesturing at the cameraman so he could pan to the broken and blackened windows.

"Absolutely." I looked directly at the camera when it was aimed at me again. "And I want to put whoever did this on notice. I will re-open. I will not just disappear."

"Gee, you make this sound like a hate crime. Are you, um, a minority?"

Blonde, blue-eyed white girl a minority? I smiled and read the reporter's mind. Hmm. I could set her straight—ha, ha—but why bother?

"I'm a woman, trying to support myself. Some people"—maybe I was digging a hole here—"don't like independence or people who are different."

The reporter thrust the microphone at Flo, who had somehow managed to pull her hair back into a chic ponytail, her sheet now a toga that Julius Caesar himself had probably taught her how to wrap.

"Are you Ms. St. Clair's partner?"

Flo grinned, obviously reading the reporter's mind too.

"Glory and I haven't been together long," she linked her arm through mine, "and the business is all hers. Me, I'm into new. I have a wonderful shoe collection, spared from the fire, thank God. I just hope Glory's business survives this." Flo actually kissed my cheek and I swear I jumped a foot.

"We're not—"

"Hush, Glory. Let me tell Donna about my shoes." Flo began rattling off designer names until the reporter's eyes glazed over and she signaled the cameraman to cut.

"I think we have enough. Excuse me, I see an arson investigator has arrived. Good luck with your business, Ms. St. Clair. Here's my card, if you need to contact me for a follow up."

Follow up. I took one more long look at my shop, shook my head then went inside the apartment building. The halls were wet and the smell of smoke made my nose run and my eyes sting. I climbed the stairs, then stepped over the door Valdez had knocked down to get me out. The frame was broken, the locks shattered. I felt him beside me.

"You really are a hero, Valdez." I dropped to my knees and buried my face in his damp fur. Oh, great. Now I cried. I held on to him and felt Flo patting my back. I know blood sucking vampires are supposed to be tough, but we're still human, sort of. We have feelings. I swear sometimes I think if I didn't have bad luck I'd have no luck at all.