Real Vampires Have More to Love (Glory St. Clair #6)

Real Vampires Have More to Love (Glory St. Clair #6) Page 8

“Glory? What’s wrong?” Nadia leaned forward.

“I killed a billionaire. His will leaves everything to the child who takes me out first. Thank God there are only two children.”

“A hell of a legacy, sending them after a vampire. My father slapped me around, but at least when he died, we were done.” Nadia sipped her drink, which she’d insisted Rafe pour into a goblet. “Kill them and your worries are over.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.” Of course, was it fair to be shot with a crossbow? Rafe straightened from where he’d leaned against the doorway into the kitchen. Oops, forgot to block my thoughts, and Flo must have left out that detail. “Besides, it’s not that simple. They die, and the money goes to a vamp-hunting foundation dedicated to staking Glory St. Clair. Then I’ll have legions of vamp hunters after me.” I grabbed my empty and got up to recycle it.

Nadia smiled at Rafe, who looked like he was about to explode. “Rafael, give Glory another bottle of Diablo Red. She obviously needs it. Then tell me how you killed this billionaire. I love a good story that ends with death.”

“She took him out to save me.” Rafe handed me the bottle, then blocked me from leaving the kitchen. “Where’d you get hit?” He touched my shoulder, then tugged aside my sweater to stare at the pale pink scar that would be gone by tomorrow night. “Shit, Glory. Thank God this Westwood isn’t the shot the father was.”

“I had something to do with the miss. I ran like hell.” My skin tingled where Rafe’s warm fingers touched me, and I put my hand over his. “I’m fine. No worries.”

“For now. But I’m sure there’ll be a next time, and you might not be so lucky.” He stared down at me, his eyes dark and reeling me in closer.

“Lucky? Maybe I don’t need luck. I can take care of myself, Rafe.” I put my hand on his chest, feeling wobbly. “Now that I know I’m a target, I’ll be more careful.”

He steadied me with his other arm at my waist. “I can see that. What the hell were you doing that they got off this kind of shot? Hanging out in that damned alley again? Probably digging in your purse for keys or a lipstick.”

“You’re making me sound like an idiot.” I shoved back.

“No, just spoiled. Used to someone else watching your back.” He grabbed my arm when I tried to walk away. “Seven inches, Glory. Seven inches to the left and you’d be gone now.”

“Quit trying to freak me out.” I looked down until he released me. “I’m scared enough without you piling on.”

“Sparks are flying, you two. You sure there’s no hanky-panky here?” Nadia chuckled. “What’s going on?”

“Rafe won’t stop playing guard dog.” I immediately regretted that. Especially when Rafe’s lips firmed and his eyes narrowed.

“Damn straight.” He stomped into the kitchen, coming out with a cold bottle of beer and twisting off the cap. “Not every woman is as self-sufficient as you are, Nadia. Some vampires need keepers.”

“And some keepers need a muzzle.” I shot him a mental finger and, ignoring the fact that innocent Bulgarians might have been sacrificed in the making of this delicious drink, chugged another bottle. Then I told Nadia all about Brent Westwood. She gasped when I mentioned his vamp-detecting glasses.

“That’s horrible. If he sold those to every hunter, it would make us easy targets.” Nadia frowned. “How do they work?”

“It’s not new technology. It’s the same thing they use for night-vision goggles. Westwood just figured out that he could use them to scan a crowd of people, checking for body heat. Any person who isn’t giving off normal heat has to be one of us.” I sighed. “He made them look like regular sunglasses. So you never know whether a guy is someone who thinks it’s cool to wear shades at night or if he’s checking you out for fangs.”

“Very clever. The man was obviously a twisted genius.”

“Yes. Twisted for sure. He collected fangs. He had over a dozen pairs on a necklace he wore around his neck.” I shuddered. “One set was from a dear friend. When V’s life was on the line, I didn’t hesitate to kill the bastard.”

“Bravo.” Nadia smiled at me. “Rafael, admit it. Your friend here is a strong woman. Why did you need to guard her for so many years?”

“Her boyfriend hired me. Blade’s very protective.” Rafe polished off his beer. “Glory’s a little late to the game, but she says she’s through letting him interfere in her life. Or has that changed?” He smiled, like maybe he’d smelled Blade on me.

I smiled back. “No, he’s back in town, but I told him I’m still going it alone. No more of his hired goons.” I faked a wince. “I mean guns.”

“Blade is your sire?” Nadia looked from me to Rafe.

“And was my lover. So it wasn’t easy for me to refuse his help.” I realized that sounded lame, especially when I was talking to a woman like Nadia, who seemed so together. “Anyway, I’m on my own now. I have a business and it’s doing well. But these Westwood brats are trying to ruin it for me. I’ve got to figure out a way to derail the ‘Get Glory’ train. Without killing anyone,” I added, because it was clear Nadia was still on board with taking out the kids and worrying about the consequences later.

“I guess it’s out of the question to ask you to skip town, then.” Rafe grabbed my empty bottle then stalked to the kitchen.

“I’m not running away. I’ve got friends here, a business. I won’t let them spoil it.” I followed him. “That’s not fair.”

“Run or stay and fight. If it’s a fight, I’m in. Sounds like fun.” Nadia yawned, reminding me that it was just an hour from dawn. “You had a proposition, Glory. What is it?”

“I know you’re not open yet, but I was hoping I could rent your new place. For a bachelorette party. Is that possible?” I glanced at Rafe. We’d been sniping at each other all night, but I figured he’d still do me a favor. Nadia was an unknown quantity. Sure she was friendly, but when it came to business, I had a feeling she was all about the bottom line.

“What do you think, Rafael?” Nadia smiled at him.

“Why the hell not? I don’t think we can turn away business at this point, and this is for a friend’s wedding.” Rafe gave me a nod. “The bride’s my friend too. A party for a bunch of women? How much trouble can it be?” Rafe dumped the bottles in the recycle bin and walked back into the living room.

“Are you kidding? A bachelorette party? Listen, Rafael, you have no idea how ugly those things can get. I have experience in these matters.” Nadia looked around the apartment, assessing my net worth. “There will be a security deposit of course.”

“Sure.” I smiled. “The bride’s footing the bill. Damian’s sister. Maybe you know her too. Florence da Vinci.”

“Ah, Florence. Of course. She’s good for it, then. And she’s getting married?” Nadia’s eyebrows were up and her mouth amused. “The man who caught her must be something special.”

“Richard Mainwaring. Do you know him?” I saw Nadia shake her head. “Just as well. Flo’s the jealous type. Anyway, Richard knows how to handle her.” I grinned at Rafe. “Am I right?”

“No comment. Guys stick together. And any man who thinks he can handle a woman is clueless.” Rafe was on his second bottle of beer. “Bachelorette party. You ladies are going all out.”

“I want this to be amazing. I’ve got to find a male dancer. One of those Chippendale types.” I figured that was something Aggie couldn’t beat with her panty party.

“Look no further.” Nadia’s eyes gleamed. “Did Rafael ever tell you he’s one of the best?”

“What? Rafe, you can dance?” I looked at him slouched against the kitchen table. He certainly had the body for it. I remembered him in a towel. Now if he had the moves . . . I swallowed.

“Oh, yes. He can shake his moneymaker, eh, Rafael?” Nadia laughed and stood. “Why are you frowning? Surely you would do this for your friend. Think how this will make the party a success. When he danced in my club in Charleston, he was called the Fallen Angel, Glory. The wings were the first to go, of course. His G-string was made out of white feathers. Very few white feathers.” She laughed again and grabbed her suitcase.

“Thanks for sharing, Nadia.” Rafe slammed his empty bottle on the table.

“You said your bedroom is at the end of the hall, Rafael? I’m going to bed. It was a long flight from New Orleans. Thanks for letting me stay, Glory.” She stopped next to my CD collection and plucked out a case. “Put this on and let Rafael do his thing. I think you’ll like what you see.” She winked and headed down the hall.

“The Fallen Angel?” I grinned at Rafe.

“You want to see my moves?” He stalked over to my chair and pulled me to my feet. “Fallen for sure. Nothing angelic about it. The ladies wanted a bad man.” His lips parted, and I saw the tip of his tongue. “I could handle that.”

I sucked in a breath. I felt his heat, a shifter’s heat, an inferno compared to a vampire’s temp. Then there was his smell, earthy with a hint of the animal I knew he could be. I’d memorized it in the five years we’d been together and would know it with my eyes closed in a crowd of a thousand men.

Bad? Suddenly he had the vibe down, from the gleam in his dark eyes to the way he leaned into my space, just inches from the tips of my aching breasts. His gaze raked over my body like he was remembering how I looked naked. Oh, yeah, he’d seen me a time or two. Accidentally, but still . . . I wanted to step back, to touch myself, to do something to ease this damp welcome that hit me hard and fast.

Instead I smiled and shook my hair back, pretending I was unfazed by his act. Yeah, that’s all it was. A show. He didn’t mean any of it. He’d done the same hot-gaze thing hundreds of times with strangers in crowded clubs for tips. Good to know.