Bloody Fabulous: Stories of Fantasy and Fashion

Bloody Fabulous: Stories of Fantasy and Fashion Page 32

“I still have a day.”

Camilla pished at her. “It’s impossible. It’s the magic and the curse of the transformation.”

“Which means the task you set was unfair and renders our bet null and void.”

“Nice try, my dear. But you said anyone.”

“Yeah. Anyone living.”

“Then you should have been specific. Too late now.” Camilla circled the room, avoiding the mirrors. “I certainly hope you don’t plan to renege on our bet.”

“What if I did?” She challenged.

“Grayson,” Camilla said.

He crossed the room in a nanosecond, grabbing her. His fangs pricked her neck before she could draw a breath. Then he froze. Her false bravado shattered as her attention focused on his teeth on her skin.

Camilla stepped into her view. “He drinks and you disappear. That’s what happens.”

“But . . . ”

The Demon Queen waited.

“I still have a day,” she said.

“You do. Grayson, release her.”

He closed his mouth, sucking on her neck before setting her down. She touched her throat.

Gray’s arms remained around her. “It’s just a nick. I couldn’t resist.”

“Grayson,” Camilla snapped.

He returned to his position, leaving Evelyn to stand on her unsteady feet. Her world was quickly spinning out of control. She latched onto the one inconsistency.

“Why does he obey you?” she asked. “He’s older than you. Why are you the Demon Queen?”

Camilla shot Gray an annoyed frown. “I found him and his nest mates living in self-imposed isolation on a tiny island in the middle of the Pacific. The modern world had defeated them more effectively than vampire hunters with wooden stakes. But I had enough money to offer them a life a luxury if they changed me.” She preened. “My magazine empire was the perfect hide-out for a bunch of gorgeous people.”

“Except for being unable to be photographed,” Evelyn said.

“It makes it difficult, but it’s a small price to pay for eternal life.”

Touching her throat again, she asked, “Are you going to make me one of you?”

“Oh no. Creativity is snuffed out during the transformation, but in exchange we gain heightened senses, beauty, and intelligence to name a few. I need your talent, my dear. You will be well taken care of in my nest.”

“Gee, I feel so much better now.”

“Now, now. Don’t be like that. You’re the one who agreed to the deal. Tomorrow I will send Grayson to fetch you. Please be ready.” Camilla swept out with Gray in tow.

Evelyn remained in place. Camilla’s visit was meant to intimidate her, and it worked. Yet, it gave her a renewed determination to prove the Demon Queen wrong. Or was that a new surge of desperation?

Back at her computer, she re-read the ghost articles, jotting down details about the hybrid camera. Yep, that proved it. It was desperation.

Sunday

Consuming mass quantities of coffee and sugar, Evelyn had searched for information all night. But she couldn’t get past the fact that neither the digital, video, nor the film cameras worked. Therefore, a hybrid wouldn’t work either. She needed a different lens or medium. Or a miracle.

What else? She pulled out all her old photography textbooks and flipped through the pages. Listing everyone who had any knowledge of photography, she dug deep into her memory. Old jobs, ex-boyfriends, colleagues.

What else? kept repeating in her mind like a mantra.

Around noon, the answer popped into her head. She dismissed it for a split second as insane. But like Vee had said, desperate people do desperate things. Back at her computer, she looked up information on an old acquaintance, before heading to Best Buy for a new and secure cell phone.

As the phone rang on the other end, Evelyn tried to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t make her sound like a lunatic.

“Hello?” a man’s voice said.

“Hi, Antonio, it’s Evelyn Mitchell. I know it’s been ages, we used to work together at—”

“Evelyn! How the hell are you?” he asked.

“Truthfully, not good. Are you still in the business?”

“Yes, why?” His friendly tone had turned cautious.

One knot in her stomach eased. He still had access.

“I’ve a big problem and I need a huge favor.”

Silence, then, “What do you need?”

The request came out in a rush of words. There was a long pause on the other end.

She jumped in before he could say no. “I won’t tell a soul, and if you do this for me, I’ll take pictures of your kids every year for the rest of their lives. I’ll hire them as cover models if they want. It’s vital, Antonio.”

No response. But he hadn’t hung up.

“I’ll pay—”

“No money,” he said. “If I do this for you, will you photograph my daughter’s wedding in exchange?”

If it worked and she was free. “Of course.”

He chuckled. “You used to scoff at wedding photographers.”

“I’ve a new perspective on life.”

“I see. And this is a onetime request?”

“Oh yes. I won’t ask again. I promise.”

“Okay. When do you need it?”

“Now.”

“Uh. That could be a problem.”

She sank to her knees. So close!

“Hold on,” Antonio said. “Let me talk to my wife.”

Sunday Night

After meeting Antonio uptown, Evelyn spent the rest of the day building a hybrid camera of her own. Using her new lens and thirty-five millimeter film, she prayed it would work. She couldn’t test it until Gray arrived.

As daylight faded, Evelyn raced around her studio, piling a few boxes and dumping a couple of empty suitcases next to them. At least it would look as if she had packed.

Gray appeared. He glanced at the pile, then at the rest of the studio. “You didn’t get much done.”

She brandished her new camera. “Very last try. One roll of film.”

Suspicion creased his forehead. “How long?”

“Two hours at most. Please.”

“And then?” he asked.

“If it doesn’t work, I concede defeat and will go . . . quietly.”

He harrumphed. “I doubt the quietly part. All right. Two hours.”

Evelyn didn’t waste time. She snapped twelve pictures and then grabbed her coat.

“Where are you going?” Gray asked.

“CVS. There’s one down the street. I can’t develop film and print pictures that fast. But they can. Are you coming?”

“I guess I have to.” He frowned as he donned his coat, hat, and sunglasses.

When they arrived at the store, Evelyn was fully prepared to bribe the tech to do hers first. But the processing department had been slow and the tech promised to have prints in an hour.

Her hands shook as she dropped the canister into his hand. God, he looked like he was twelve. Her life rested in this single roll. Ironic.

“Now what?” Gray asked.

“We wait.”

“Here?”

“Yes. I’m not letting that film out of my sight.”

He sighed, but didn’t argue. What followed was the longest hour in her entire life. Sweat soaked her bra and her shirt clung to her. When the prints were ready, she paid for them then tore open the package.

Gray snatched it from her. “Wait until we get back to the studio.”

She almost ran back. When they were inside, he handed the envelope to her. Wiping sweaty palms on her jeans, she pulled out the stack of photos.

A joy like no other spread through her. She felt as if she’d just been told she’d been mis-diagnosed and she was going to live after all. Evelyn whooped and danced around a confused Gray.

With a huge grin, she handed a picture to Gray. “Here, give this to Camilla. Proof that I won the bet.”

He stared at his image. It was all there. The little smirk, the black hair, the muscular arms, the whole hot package.

“Is this me?” he asked, gazing at her in shock.

“Yes. Don’t you recognize yourself?”

“It’s been over a century. And the transformation changes you. I’ve seen it happen to others, but never really thought about how I’d changed. I look . . . ”

“Gorgeous.”

He smiled. “Young. I was close to fifty when I transformed.”

As Evelyn watched him, she wondered what it would be like to never see your refection in a mirror. Rather difficult, she guessed.

She gave Gray all the photos. “You only need to show Camilla one. You can keep the rest. Will she be upset?” Fear dampened her high spirits.

“About losing?”

“Yes, and about me knowing your secrets.”

“Oh yes. Camilla has never lost a bet before.”

Despite her unease, Evelyn noted how he had used her name. Interesting.

Gray tapped the picture. “How did you do this? She’ll want to know.”

“Trade secret.”