A Bite to Remember (Argeneau #5)

A Bite to Remember (Argeneau #5) Page 2

"So the call was from your production assistant, telling you that the lead in the play who was supposed to open tonight has quit and the play can't open?"

"Yes," Vincent answered wearily, his gaze on the road ahead. Jackie was driving, but he was supposed to be directing her to somewhere to buy kitchen appliances. He didn't have a clue where people bought such things. He hadn't told her that, however, but was hoping to spot a likely store before she realized it.

"I was under the impression you'd permanently closed down all of your plays until you sorted out the matter of who is sabotaging them?"

"No, not exactly," Vincent murmured and wondered what Bastien had told her before sending her out here.

Before he could voice the question, Jackie answered it by saying, "Bastien wasn't very specific about details. He just said that someone was sabotaging your plays. I was hoping both Tiny and I could sit down with you later this evening to go over the particulars, but wanted to get the urgent matters out of the way first."

"The urgent matters being securing my home and seeing to the shopping," Vincent murmured, a faint smile curving his lips as he glanced her way.

"You may be able to live and function without food, but we can't," Jackie said defensively. "And I positively cannot function without coffee."

"Of course not. I wouldn't expect you to," he assured her quickly. "It's common sense to see to the basics first. A safe roof over your head and food are basic needs."

"Not for you. At least not the food," Jackie pointed out. Before he could comment, she suddenly braked and swerved into the driveway of a mall.

"Sorry, I guess I got distracted," he muttered, glancing over the large complex.

"No problem," Jackie said as she parked. "I almost missed it myself and I was paying attention."

Vincent merely grunted and slid out of the car to follow her inside. He really expected the next little while to be boring and possibly even annoying, but soon learned differently. As he concentrated on selecting items to go in the kitchen, Vincent found his frustration slipping away.

"I don't know why you don't like shopping." Vincent commented as he snatched the cheap white plastic coffeepot away from Jackie and set it back on the shelf. He then picked up the more expensive chrome and black model and dropped it in the cart.

Not sure what would be needed in the kitchen, Vincent had simply been picking up one of everything; one blender, one mixer, one crockpot, one juicer, and so on. He'd have asked Jackie what she thought he needed, but Tiny hadn't been kidding when he said she hated shopping. She'd been snapping and growling since they'd arrived. He thought it was kind of cute. Jackie was like a little snarling Chihuahua... but much cuter.

"Please do not tell me you are one of those people."

Jackie sounded disgusted and it made him hesitate warily. "What people?"

"People who believe in retail therapy," she said dryly, picking up a toaster.

"I don't know. It does seem to be relaxing me though," Vincent admitted. He took the toaster from her and switched it for another.

"What was wrong with that one?" she asked sharply.

"This one is better," Vincent said with a shrug as he set his substitution in the cart. "It's chrome and black and will match the rest of the appliances."

"So was the first one," she pointed out impatiently.

"But this one is a cool shape and it will toast four slices," Vincent pointed out.

Jackie rolled her eyes. "There are only two of us. We don't need a four-slice toaster."

"There will be four of us. You forgot my aunt and myself," Vincent reminded her.

"You don't eat," she said with exasperation.

"I do," Vincent corrected. Not often, he acknowledged to himself, but he would start eating more while she was here.

His gaze landed on the next appliance in the aisle and he brightened. "Oh, look, a waffle maker. I've had waffles. They were good."

Vincent pushed the cart further along the aisle to look at the contraption.

"What do you mean you eat?" The question burst from Jackie as she trailed after him. Some of her annoyance appeared to have eased, replaced with confusion by his claim. "Your kind don't eat, you suck blood."

Vincent smiled at an older woman pushing a cart past them in the aisle. Jackie's words had made her stiffen and glance their way with shock.

"We're practicing our lines for a play," he lied with a charming smile. The woman relaxed and smiled uncertainly back, then began moving again. Vincent waited until she'd left the aisle before turning an arched eyebrow on Jackie. He needn't have bothered, she was already bright red with embarrassment over her slip.

"Sorry," she muttered, taking the waffle maker from him and placing it in the cart. She insisted, "But you don't eat. None of you eat... Except for Bastien. He used to eat in business meetings, just to be polite I think. He's started to eat just lately, but I gather that has something to do with Terri."

"Well, I eat," Vincent informed her.

"Then why is your kitchen completely empty of food?" Jackie asked archly.

"I eat out a lot," Vincent muttered, and—leaving her to chew on that—he moved further up the aisle to the next contraption, an ice cream maker. "Do you like ice cream?"

Vincent glanced at Jackie and found her grumpy expression briefly gone. She was eyeing the ice cream maker with something close to lust.

Realizing he was watching her, she schooled her expression into one of indifference and shrugged. "Ice cream is okay."

He wasn't fooled. Smiling to himself, Vincent set the ice cream maker in the cart.

"I think we have everything. We should go. We still have groceries to get," Jackie reminded him.

"There's one more aisle. We should?

"Trust me, Vincent, I think you have almost everything they sell. You couldn't possibly need anything else," she said impatiently. Jackie paused and frowned when she saw the way he'd stopped and was smiling at her. Her voice was wary when she asked, "What?"

"I like the way you say my name. So sharp, so concise?

"So annoyed," Jackie said with exasperation. She added, "We do have everything. You've picked up one of every appliance in the store."

"I suppose you're right," Vincent conceded, taking pity on her beleaguered expression. "I guess we can check out."

He pushed the heaped cart to the front of the store and then paused, his gaze moving over the checkouts until he spotted the beaming manager waving him to an end aisle where their other two carts were already unloaded onto the checkout belt. Vincent was really quite impressed with this store. Once the first cart had been full of table linen, dishes, and silverware, he'd gone in search of somewhere he could leave it while he filled a second one. The manager had taken the cart for him and sent someone to watch at a discreet distance while they'd filled the second cart. The moment it was full, the store worker had appeared with another empty cart and switched with him.

"Excellent service," Vincent complimented as the manager and clerk began to help him unload.

"New house?" the manager asked with a smile.

"Good guess," Vincent complimented, which could be taken as agreement or not as the man liked.

"Not much of a guess." The manager chuckled. "It has to be a new house. About the only thing you haven't got here is a microwave."

Vincent stilled and turned accusingly on Jackie. Sighing, she threw her hands up in the air and turned to head back to the housewares section.

Half an hour later, Jackie watched impatiently as the last of their items were rung through... including a black and chrome microwave. "We won't have room in the car for all this," she pointed out. "And we still have to get the actual groceries."

"I'd be happy to have one of the boys deliver your purchases for you," the manager said accommodatingly.

"Oh great!" Vincent beamed and Jackie just managed not to roll her eyes. It would just figure that he actually seemed to enjoy shopping. The man had been relaxed and cheerful through the entire grueling two hours in this store. She'd have been happy to grab a coffeepot and paper plates, but not Vincent. If they were doing it, they were doing it right, he'd said, and proceeded to take his time over choosing the dish patterns, as well as the style of drinking glasses, and then had insisted on color-coordinating all the appliances.

Jackie shook her head. Who cared if the teapot was white plastic, the cappuccino machine was chrome, or the vegetable steamer was blue? Vincent did. He wanted everything black and chrome to match.

Sighing impatiently, she shifted her feet as Vincent handed over his credit card.

"The man at the house is called Tiny. If the gate is closed and locked and you have to buzz, just tell him it's a delivery authorized by Jackie," Vincent instructed.

"I'll call him to warn him it's on the way," Jackie said impatiently. "Can we go now?"

"Don't mind her," Vincent advised the manager. "She just flew in from New York. You know how New Yorkers can be."

"Oh... Yes." The manager nodded solemnly, looking—for all the world—as if he wanted to offer Vincent his sympathies for having to deal with her.

Finding the whole matter beyond exasperating, Jackie turned on her heel and headed for the automatic doors.

"Come again!" the manager called cheerfully as Vincent followed.

"We are not doing this at the grocery store," Jackie said grimly as she started the engine of the rental car. "We are not going to buy out the grocery store. You're a vampire, you're not supposed to eat."

"And you're a woman. You're supposed to like shopping," he responded mildly. "I guess things aren't always what they seem, are they?"

In her impatience, Jackie managed to stall the car. Feeling her face go red with embarrassment, she ground her teeth together and restarted the engine. Pausing then, she took a deep steadying breath.

"Must be jet lag," she muttered under her breath as she pulled out of the parking spot.

"No doubt," Vincent said agreeably.

"Are you always this damned cheerful?" she asked with irritation.

"Mostly always," he assured her with a grin.

Jackie blew her breath out on a sigh. "You're nothing like Bastien. He's..."

"Serious? Sober? Solemn? And all those other S's?" Vincent suggested with amusement.

"Grown up," she said dryly.

"He's a businessman. I'm an actor," Vincent pointed out as if that said it all.

Jackie frowned. She'd forgotten, but he was also a businessman, with his own company. It made her wonder how much of his cheerful, easygoing behavior was for show.

"Do you have Tiny's list?" Vincent asked as they walked into the grocery store ten minutes later.

Jackie reached into her pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper Tiny had handed her on the way out the door. She unfolded it, read the single word at the top, blinked and then burst out laughing.

Curious, Vincent took the list from her. He smiled faintly. "Well, you did tell him to write everything on it."

"Yes," Jackie agreed with a sigh, acknowledging to herself that they weren't going to get in and out quickly here either. They did need everything; Vincent's home didn't even have the staples, like salt and pepper.

"Here." Vincent reached into his pocket and pulled out some money. Handing it to her, he gestured to the end of the store. "Why don't you go pick up a couple of drinks for us and I'll start the shopping?"

Jackie followed his gesture to the coffee shop sign at the end of the store and nodded with relief. A dose of caffeine would make it all bearable. "How do you take your coffee?"

Vincent blinked at the question. "Regular?"

Jackie arched her eyebrows. His answer told her that he didn't normally drink coffee. However, since he was giving her a reprieve from shopping, she let it go and merely headed for the coffee shop.

Ten minutes later she'd downed half her cappuccino and felt about a hundred times better. She didn't even mind that Vincent seemed to want to look at everything on the shelves. The man was practically salivating as he looked at the pictures of the food on the cans and boxes. His reactions made her think she had to be right and he didn't normally eat as she'd suspected.

Unfortunately, when she said as much, Vincent just shrugged and said the restaurants he went to didn't serve things like this. Jackie was sufficiently mellowed by her caffeine boost to let the matter go for now, but she still was sure he didn't eat.

The kitchen purchases had arrived at the house and Tiny had put most of them away by the time they returned. That still left the groceries. Jackie and Vincent helped the giant put them away before she fetched her briefcase and set it on the table.

Retrieving a notepad and pen, she closed and set the briefcase on the floor, then sat down and glanced toward the two men. Vincent and Tiny were trying to figure out how to work the ice cream maker... without bothering to read the instructions, Jackie noticed, and bit back a smile. It was so typically male one could almost forget the man was a vampire.

The thought made her frown. The last thing Jackie wanted to do was forget that. He was attractive and charming and... a vampire. She had to keep the last part in mind and ignore the rest. It was for her own good.

Mouth tightening, Jackie watched the two men for another minute, then said, "Vincent?"

"Yes?" He glanced over in question.

"Bastien gave me a very brief rundown of what was happening here, but as you know, it wasn't much." She was too tired to bother to hide her dissatisfaction. "Tiny and I need to go over it with you to learn everything."

"Work time," Tiny said with regret, setting the ice cream machine aside. "You two go on. I'll make coffee and start dinner. I can listen while I work. Jackie will feel better once she's eaten. She's always grouchy when her sugar's low."

Jackie set her teeth at the comment. She wasn't being grouchy. All things considered, she thought she was reacting remarkably well. It was after seven o'clock at night, for heaven's sake. She'd spent the better part of the day in airports and planes, eating rotten food and drinking worse coffee, then arrived here to go shopping. She... Okay, so supper would be good.

"I'll make something quick." Tiny moved to the refrigerator.

Smiling, Vincent moved to join her, his gaze moving curiously from the pen she held to the notepad on the table.

Jackie resisted the urge to cover her notes and cleared her throat. "As I mentioned, from what Bastien said, I understood that you had decided to close down the plays because of the sabotage attempts."

"Yes and no. None of them are running right now, and I did sort of close them down, at least temporarily, but it wasn't all at once, and it certainly wasn't my choice," he muttered unhappily as he took the seat across from her, then explained, "One by one I had to delay the openings of each play scheduled to begin, and temporarily shut down plays that were already open."

"Why? Bastien mentioned accidents and minor catastrophes."

"Yes." Vincent ran a hand wearily through his hair as he thought of the events that had taken place over the last several weeks. "We've had two plays suffer minor fires, an accident where paint got spilled over every single costume for another play?

"Slow down, slow down," Jackie said with a frown. She'd started to try to take notes as he spoke, but he was going too quickly and she couldn't keep up. "Perhaps we should go over the events one at a time and in order. What was the first incident that you think is tied into all this?"

"That was here in L.A. A can of paint got knocked off a shelf in the costume department and splashed over every costume in the room." His mouth tightened. "No one knows how the paint got there, or why the lid was off, or who knocked it over."

Jackie considered the matter, thinking that it could have been an accident.

"The next accident was a fire in one of the theatres in Canada," Vincent continued. "It was a small fire. The theatre itself didn't sustain much damage, but our stage set was ruined. It, too, seemed to be an accident at the time, a cigarette in a garbage can. It wasn't until the other stuff started happening that I thought perhaps those two incidents hadn't just been random accidents."

When Jackie merely nodded, he continued, "Next, there was another fire, this one here in Los Angeles. It was a bigger fire than the one in Canada."

Jackie arched an eyebrow. "Was anyone hurt?"

"No, fortunately the building was empty at the time, but the fire destroyed the theatre entirely, taking our costumes and sets with it," Vincent said grimly.

Jackie made another note on her notepad.

"The next event was at the second play in Canada. I was told a cable broke loose and a part of the stage set fell on the female lead." Vincent grimaced. "She broke her arm. I had to replace her."

Jackie frowned and made another note, then put an asterisk beside it.

"Then the male lead of another play here in Los Angeles fell down a set of stairs and broke his leg. I was still thinking it was just a run of bad luck," Vincent admitted with a grimace and shook his head. "Dan Henson, the actor, claimed someone had pushed him, but I didn't believe him until later."

"Why?" she asked.

"He was a drinker and drunk at the time." Vincent shrugged. "I thought it was just?

"An accident," Jackie finished for him dryly. "When did you start to realize these accidents might not be accidents?"

"When the cast of the New York play I was in started dropping out sick one right after the other with contagious anemia."

Jackie stared at him with disbelief. "Contagious anemia?"

"Yes." He gave a short laugh. "I think my family thought I'd fed myself out of a show."

"Did you?" Jackie asked.

Vincent stiffened, then turned a cold look her way. "No. I don't feed off my cast and crew. In fact, I don't feed off people I know or employees. Usually," he added dryly, as if he might be willing to make an exception in her case.

Jackie shrugged. She'd had to ask. "So, your cast started falling ill with anemia and you shut down the show and flew back here to California."

"I didn't have a choice. You need a cast to have a play." Vincent shrugged and then added with regret, "I hated to do it, though. It would have been a big hit."

Jackie stared at him doubtfully. "I believe Bastien said the play in New York was called Dracula, The Musical?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "It was good. The next Rocky Horror Picture Show."

"Right," Jackie didn't bother to hide her doubt. "What happened to make you close down all the plays? Was it just the combination of accidents?"

Vincent grimaced, then reluctantly admitted, "I'm ashamed to say it, but no. I've been in the business a long time, these things happen. Not usually one right after the other or anything, but I know how to deal with these sorts of events and we handled each emergency as it arose."

"Then what made you close them all down?"

Vincent frowned, and began to fiddle with the corner of her notepad. "The actors and actresses made me close them down. In each play at least one, or sometimes two, actors or actresses and their understudies have suddenly quit, or walked off stage. They've all been leads. We had to scramble to replace them and delay openings, or temporarily close shows to allow the replacements to learn their roles."

Jackie considered this briefly and then asked, "How many plays have been affected by actors or actresses walking off?"

"All of them. Two in New York. Two here in California. And two in Canada."

"Six," she said with a frown. "And the lead actor or actress has suddenly quit from each of them?"

"Yes."

"Are they under contract?"

"Yes."

Jackie's frown deepened. "I presume these contracts have some sort of legal provisos, or recourse, to prevent their just walking out?"

"Oh yes," he said with a harsh laugh. "I could sue every one of them into poverty for the rest of their lives, but none of them seems to care. Not that it matters, suing them doesn't help me get the plays up and running in the meantime."

"And now one of the replacements—as well as her understudy—have walked as well?" Jackie murmured, thinking of the phone call he'd received earlier.

"Yes. It was one of the two here in California and was the first of the six that was scheduled to reopen. The replacement actress and her understudy quit this morning," he said grimly.

"Hmm... I don't suppose it could be a coincidence?"

"No," Vincent hissed the word through gritted teeth and then added, "I've been in the business for four hundred years. Having one play close down because an actor and understudy have walked out is rare enough, but having six at once?" He shook his head. "Definitely not a coincidence. Someone is out to ruin me."

Jackie bit her lip, watching her hand doodle nonsense on the pad as she thought. Finally, she glanced up and said, "I gather you've tried to read their minds? To see what was making them drop out?"

"Their minds were blank on the subject. They just knew they had to quit."

"They were wiped, you mean," she said dryly. "Which means your saboteur is another vamp... or at least someone with a vampire for backup. Although I suppose the contagious anemia made that obvious."

Vincent nodded grimly. Somehow, the fact that one of his own kind was behind the sabotage made it seem that much worse than it would have been were it a mortal.

Jackie sat back in her seat with a sigh. She considered the escalation in events. Accidents to property, then arson, then accidents to people, then outright feeding on people, and now controlling them and making them quit. It sounded as though the incidents were quickly picking up speed and momentum.

"How much time was there between the fire and the stage set accident where your actress broke her arm?"

"A week," Vincent answered, his expression curious.

"And between the stage set accident and the male second lead being pushed down the stairs?"

He paused to consider. "About five days."

"And then between that and the first person falling ill with this anemia?"

"Three or four days, maybe, but then they started dropping like flies, one after the other."

Jackie nodded and made another note.

"They got closer together as each incident occurred," Vincent realized.

Jackie met his gaze. "And more serious."

"From property, to injury," Vincent realized, following her thinking.

"Yes." Jackie agreed, then stood and walked out of the kitchen. She sensed rather than heard Vincent follow her. The man moved as quietly as a shadow.

She found Allen Richmond in the living room, overseeing the work being done on the windows and doors there.

"How long until you'll be done?" Jackie asked abruptly as she paused at the security man's side.

"Most of it will be finished tonight. The ground floor anyway. We'll have to come back tomorrow to finish the upper floor," he answered promptly.

Jackie nodded. "And the gate?"

"Already done," he assured her.

"Is it closed and locked?"

Allen Richmond paused, his eyes narrowing on her face, obviously picking up on the fact that these weren't just idle questions. "I had it left open so the men could come and go. I'll have it closed at once."

Satisfied, Jackie turned and led Vincent out of the room just as Tiny opened the kitchen door and peered at them.

"Supper's ready," the giant announced.

Nodding, Jackie managed not to run up the hall. She was absolutely famished and was terribly glad Tiny could cook. He'd started working for her father the same summer she had and her dad had put the two of them together from the start. Most people thought Tiny's size had been the deciding factor and Ted Morrisey had hoped the giant would keep his daughter safe. But Jackie knew that wasn't true. Tiny's personality had made the decision. Tiny, for all his size, or perhaps because of it, was the most laid back, calm individual on the planet. A stark contrast to Jackie's almost hyper, impatient, let's-get-things-done-now, need-to-prove-herself attitude. He was her rock, calming her when she lost patience, and gentling her when she was moved to be hard. They were friends, and while she was now his boss rather than just his co-worker, he still let her know when she was being a little Napoleon. It was something Jackie knew she needed.

"Oh Tiny, this looks wonderful," Vincent praised as he followed Jackie into the kitchen to see the food on the table.

"It's just a black bean stir-fry," Tiny said modestly. "It was fast and easy."

"Hmm." Vincent pulled out a chair for Jackie. "Well, it smells delicious."

Jackie eyed him suspiciously as she sank into the seat.

Vincent was so gallantly holding out. She still didn't believe the vamp normally ate food. The man hadn't even had a teaspoon in his kitchen, but it looked to her as if he was going to eat now.

Vincent seated himself across from her as she dished up a good portion of stir-fried vegetables and beef onto her plate. She then offered him the serving bowl as Tiny set glasses of water by each of their three settings.

Vincent took the food and served himself before passing it on to Tiny as the giant joined them at the table. Both Tiny and Jackie watched as Vincent scooped up the first forkful of food and lifted it to his mouth. Her expression was cynical, Tiny's was expectant.

Surprise was Vincent's first reaction as he closed his lips around the mouthful of food. The emotion flickered across his face and then gave way to pleasure. "This is good."

Tiny relaxed in his seat, Jackie just shook her head. The man didn't normally eat at all. She'd stake her life on it, but didn't comment and merely concentrated on eating. It really was good.

Jackie finished eating first, rushing through her food as she rushed through life, always hurrying to get to the next task. Tiny, of course, ate like he lived, savoring each moment and calmly enjoying it. Vincent was somewhere in the middle, gobbling it up at first, then slowing as he no doubt grew full. If he hadn't eaten for decades as she suspected, his stomach surely would have shrunk, Jackie thought, but again didn't say anything. He was the one insisting he ate, he could live with the consequences.

Jackie thanked Tiny for the meal as she stood, then carried her plate over and rinsed it off before setting it in the dishwasher. Her gaze then moved to the coffee pot and she brightened on seeing the full pot of black liquid.

"Oh Tiny, you're a dream," Jackie said with a smile as she found one of the new mugs and poured herself a cup of the black gold. "Does anyone else want one?"

"I'll have one please," Tiny said as he finished his dinner and stood. "I made ice cream for dessert."

"Really?" she asked with interest, peering around for the ice cream maker.

"I'll get it," Tiny insisted, moving to the sink to rinse his own plate. "Take the coffees to the table."

Leaving him to it, Jackie carried the coffees over. Vincent hadn't asked for one, so she hadn't poured him one.

"Here you are." Tiny placed a small dish of ice cream before her, and announced, "Chocolate with cherries."

Jackie picked up the spoon and scooped up a bite, moaning with pleasure as it hit her taste buds.

"Good?" Vincent asked with interest.

Jackie nodded and swallowed, then taunted, "No dessert until you finish your dinner."

Honestly, the man looked as crestfallen as a child at her words and continued determinedly with his meal.

"He doesn't have to finish his supper. He took too much." Tiny whisked Vincent's half-finished plate of stir-fry away, replacing it with ice cream. "Eat up."

Vincent beamed at the man and set to work on the ice cream.

Jackie made a face as he sighed with pleasure.

"Ms. Morrisey?"

She shifted in her seat and glanced over her shoulder at Allen Richmond as he poked his head into the room.

"A car followed one of the men through the gate as he returned from his break. There's a woman out here looking for Mr. Argeneau."