Real Vampires Have Curves (Glory St. Clair #1)

Real Vampires Have Curves (Glory St. Clair #1) Page 22

"Or not?" Miranda's eyes widened. "Like a zombie or something?"

"Theoretically, yes." Diana smiled. "How would you do that? Tell if someone was a… zombie. We're thinking of writing a murder mystery. Looking for a twist." Di winked at me. I loved the way she'd caught on.

"Cool. That's a weird application, but easy enough." Miranda sat on the edge of the battered table I'd shoved up against one wall. "Humans. Like us." She smiled. "Have a pretty constant body temperature. You know, approximately ninety-eight point six. Someone dead wouldn't have the same heat. Maybe no heat at all if they'd been dead a while."

"And a cell phone could read body temp from across the room?"

"Well, not a regular cell phone. Instead it would have to be like the scopes on the guns police use on those TV cop shows. Heat seeking devices. Infrared probably. Expensive. I doubt the Austin cops have them." She pulled out a notebook and began to jot down notes. "Cool concept. Yeah, it could be done." She tapped her teeth with her pen.

"Night vision goggles use that kind of technology. A hunter might use those. Combined with the heat seeking scope, he could do a job on night creatures. But I can't see why anyone would go out looking for the walking dead. How creepy is that?" Diana made a face behind Miranda's back.

"Beyond creepy. But a neat idea for our book." I kept my smile firmly in place. "Thanks, Miranda. You want to shop now or can I write out a fifty percent off coupon you can use later?"

"That's it? That's all you want?" Miranda's eyes gleamed behind her cool glasses.

"Well, I may have an idea. You ever consider shopping at estate sales for someone else? I'm a night person. So I could use someone to find more vintage clothing for the shop during the day."

"You mean a picker." She grinned. "My mom owns an antique store in Galveston. I've been finding stuff for her for years."

"So you've had experience. Better and better. If you want to do it for me instead of her."

"No problem. She's not really into the clothes. I'd love to be your picker. And you'd pay me. Right? For shopping? Mom kind of feels like I owe her. Six years of college and still going."

"Sure I'd pay you. But if you're a college professor—"

"Teaching assistant. Slave wages while I work on my doctorate." She yawned. "I'm usually a day person myself. And I'm fading fast. Give me the coupon. I'll come back another day. Or night. So we can work out the details." I opened the door. Valdez sat there with an accusing look. I stepped around him and grabbed a sales pad from by the register. I quickly wrote out a coupon while Miranda patted Valdez's head.

"What a sweet doggie." She made kissing noises. "Aren't you just the cutest thing?" She reached in her pocket and pulled out a piece of muffin wrapped in a paper napkin. "You hungry?"

Valdez was too busy scarfing down what looked to be a chocolate chip laden treat to answer. Plus he knew better than to communicate with anything more than a "woof" in front of mortals.

"He's always hungry." I handed her the coupon. "Thanks, Miranda. You were a big help and I look forward to working with you in the future. We may have more questions later." I looked at Diana. "As we get further into the book."

"Sure." Miranda dug into her book bag. "Here's my card. Call me." She slung the bag over her shoulder, cast a longing glance around the shop, then headed to the door. "I'll be back."

"Arnold Schwarzenegger she's not. Cute glasses though." Derek grabbed the sales book. "I just sold a zoot suit. Cha-ching." He turned to the man standing behind him.

Diana pulled me back into the stockroom and closed the door. "Now what? We can't change our body temp, Glory." She sighed and sat on the table. "We're doomed. Westwood's a billionaire because he owns over a dozen high tech companies. What if he decides to make and sell these vamp detectors? Every hunter on earth will be on us like white on rice."

"We need to think." Body temperature. "I don't even know my body temperature."

"Good point. There's an all night drug store two blocks over." Diana jumped off the table. "I'll send my kitchen guy, my mortal kitchen guy, over there to pick up a thermometer." She put her hand on my cheek. "You're warm, sort of. Feel me." I touched her forehead. I remembered my mother doing that when I was little. One of the few caring gestures she'd ever made. Of course if I dared have a fever, she'd dose me with some awful potion she got from God knew where. The cure was usually a lot worse than the illness. It was a miracle children had survived at all back then. And way too many of them hadn't.

"You feel just like me, Diana. We should have felt Miranda. But when I used to feed from mortals, I remember they felt really warm."

"Yes, their blood's almost hot. You handled Miranda just right. We didn't have to erase her memory and she'll be back if we need to ask her more questions." Diana opened the door and we headed back into the store. "I'll let you know when I get the thermometer. We'll check the three of us, you, me, Derek, and figure out an average temp."

"And then figure out a way to raise it." I picked up a Sharper Image catalog Lacy had left behind the counter. "Battery operated heating pads. Do they make such a thing?"

Derek came back with a credit card. "Give me a minute with a computer and the Internet and I can find out." He grinned. "I'm sorry I was such a wimp earlier, Glory, Diana. You ladies have inspired me. I told Freddy to go to the castle. And to get used to me working because I was going to do it whether he approved or not."

High fives all around. Diana left and a pair of women in scrubs pushed through the door. A night shift for mortals had ended. I glanced at the clock. Just a few hours until dawn. At least we knew Westwood liked the chase. He wouldn't try to get us in our sleep. But I wondered how the men were progressing. There was nothing wrong with a two-pronged approach.

"Hey, Derek." He was flirting with the women. He strolled over to my side.

"A guy's got to do what a guy's got to do. Am I a natural salesman or what?"

"Definitely. When you get on the Internet, check on Kevlar vests." Did I mention I watch a lot of TV? Including cop shows. "See if they can be penetrated by a wooden arrow."

Derek's eyes gleamed. "Will do, boss. What was I thinking? Run? Hell, we'll stay and fight. Freddy's a crack shot."

"And Blade never misses with his knife."

"There you go." Derek leaned closer. "And I've heard that our Italian friends know a thing or two about poisons."

"So we're not defenseless. And Westwood is crafty, not crazy. He sure won't make a move when we've got customers." A good-looking guy in boots and work shirt, who smelled like B negative, pushed open the door. Hmm. I probably wouldn't even have noticed if I'd had a Bloody Merry in my hand. But Derek's eyes lit up. I sent him a mental reminder that he would not use my customers for feeding. At least not while they were in the store.

I stepped into the storeroom and got a can of Bloody Merry out of the fridge. When I'd fortified myself with a deep swallow, I headed back into the shop. I looked around and finally relaxed. The thought that Westwood, the fang collecting son of a bitch, had been in my store had almost ruined it for me. But I was getting over it. We had quite a crowd for four in the morning. And wouldn't you know the radio began a Queen set with "We Are the Champions"? Valdez put his paws over his ears.

"You know," I said patting Derek's cheek, rough with his morning beard and barely warm. He would only get cooler as we got closer to dawn. "We'll make Westwood sorry he ever started this hunt."

Chapter Ten

"I've moped around here long enough. I'm ready to live again." Flo made this declaration as she bounced on the foot of my bed.

"Get up, Glory."

"Forty-eight whole hours. That was fast." I sat up and pushed my hair back. I still felt a little tired.

"Life may be long for us, but I still don't waste a minute." She handed me a Bloody Merry. "Valdez says Westwood came to the shop the other night. Are you still freaked out?"

"Sure." I sipped my drink and felt the familiar surge of energy. "But, like you, I'm not wasting time on it. I need to get down to the shop."

"It's Sunday. You're closed today."

"Yes. I forgot." I lay back and set the can on my night-stand. "Good. Maybe Derek will have time to do that research we talked about."

"I know you want to fight Westwood. And that's a good thing." Flo wandered over to my closet and pulled out a black leather mini skirt. Not my best look. Too much thigh. "But I want to have fun. Forget for a while." She put it back and dug out a blue top with a vee neck. My color. She nodded and laid it on the bed. A print blue and red sequined circle skirt that hit me midcalf landed on the bed next.

"We need to go out. Show we're not afraid. Spit in Westwood's eye."

"Jerry and Damian would stroke out if they knew."

" Me, too, sweet cheeks. Forget it." Valdez jumped up on the foot of my bed.

"Down! You'll wrinkle Glory's outfit." Flo pushed him off the bed. "And we do not obey our pets."

" Pets?" Valdez bared his teeth. " You want a little demo of what this 'pet' can do?" Flo clapped her hands and I groaned. Now she'd done it.

"Yes! Show me a trick."

" It's not a trick. It's defense, for Blondie." Valdez shook his head, seemed to gather himself, then growled, the sound sending shivers up my spine. His teeth seemed to grow longer, kind of like a vamp's did. Then he jumped. No, it was more of a leap. From one side of the room to the other, clearing the bed by a good foot and a half.