up in Heidi’s office—but I know him and I haven’t known anyone but us for years.” She panted, the torrent of words spilling out of her added another layer to the euphoria bubbling in her blood. “I know him!” She squealed and gave Britta another hug.
A bell rang, and Kiki jumped.
“Oh hell. We need to go. We’re doing Diamonds are a Vampire’s best friend—blacks, reds and loads of glitter.”
“Glitter?” Peppermint interrupted, annoyance flaring in her eyes. “I just did my hair, and you want me to dump glitter on it?”
“Yes and all over your body too.” Kiki danced down the row of tables, giving every one of the girls a hug as she passed by. “Load up on the gems. You need to sparkle when the lights turn on you. We’ll show them the real reason vampires can’t go out in daylight…they won’t be able to handle our bling.”
The other dancers grumbled good-naturedly and laughed, but Kiki barely heard them.
I know him…oh. I can’t wait to see him again…
Frederick Reynolds waited at the entrance to the lounge. It was early by Vegas standards—hell, it was even early by Richard’s standards. The sun set just two and a half hours before, and the new show was scheduled to begin promptly at nine. Irritation slid along his skin. The younger vampire had nothing to report. But Frederick made a point to be seen as the person most likely to stay out of trouble.
“Frederick.” The prince acknowledged him with a nod, but didn’t slow his pace. Inside the lounge, the shadowy tables were staged at various levels, allowing maximum privacy while viewing the exotic shows. Succubi weaved through the tables trailing invitational vetiver in their wake. Fortunately, the allure only proved appealing to baser natured creatures—like the table of weres already on their way to a good drunk. He recognized them from their arrival that morning.
Boorish lot.
The hostess directed him to a table near the front, tucked into a well of privacy. The occasional voice climbed high enough to be heard, but otherwise he enjoyed the peace. Anton and David stood at either end of the rounded booth, and Frederick hesitated at the table’s edge.
He hadn’t been invited to sit.
Fortunately he seemed smart enough to understand that. Richard leaned back and studied him. “Well?” He asked after the silence stretched out his irritation—irritation kindled by Kristina’s annoyed phone call. One corner of his mouth quirked up, the call told him two things. She understood the call he sent out, one that summoned her blood to him—an act he could only perform because it was his blood that turned her.
And despite the curse, her loss of memory and a fifty-year separation—she still knew exactly how to spit in his eye and turn him on in the same breath.
“The stage manager doesn’t want to talk to me,” Frederick lowered his voice to barely a whisper. Richard needed to sit forward to hear him.
“Charm her—you landed yourself in hot water with twins, one can only imagine you possess a certain amount of appeal to the fairer sex.”
“I’m sure he does,” a Rubenesque woman interrupted, stepping around the booth and favoring Frederick with a gimlet glare. “But I am neither fair nor interested in sex. So go away, little vampire. You annoy me.”
The stage manager’s—because Richard doubted she could be anyone else—bluntness shocked Frederick, and his eyes widened. An actual trace of fear rolled through his scent. Intrigued, Richard waved the younger vampire away. Perhaps his time at the Royale would harden the soft, spoiled brat into a real man. A century or so would prove that out.
“May I sit?” She motioned to the booth before Richard could rise.
Manners dictated he should stand, but power suggested a better option in remaining in his seat. He inclined his head. “Please. You are the stage manager, Heidi.”
“And you’re the Prince of New York. Now that we’ve gotten the obvious out of
A bell rang, and Kiki jumped.
“Oh hell. We need to go. We’re doing Diamonds are a Vampire’s best friend—blacks, reds and loads of glitter.”
“Glitter?” Peppermint interrupted, annoyance flaring in her eyes. “I just did my hair, and you want me to dump glitter on it?”
“Yes and all over your body too.” Kiki danced down the row of tables, giving every one of the girls a hug as she passed by. “Load up on the gems. You need to sparkle when the lights turn on you. We’ll show them the real reason vampires can’t go out in daylight…they won’t be able to handle our bling.”
The other dancers grumbled good-naturedly and laughed, but Kiki barely heard them.
I know him…oh. I can’t wait to see him again…
Frederick Reynolds waited at the entrance to the lounge. It was early by Vegas standards—hell, it was even early by Richard’s standards. The sun set just two and a half hours before, and the new show was scheduled to begin promptly at nine. Irritation slid along his skin. The younger vampire had nothing to report. But Frederick made a point to be seen as the person most likely to stay out of trouble.
“Frederick.” The prince acknowledged him with a nod, but didn’t slow his pace. Inside the lounge, the shadowy tables were staged at various levels, allowing maximum privacy while viewing the exotic shows. Succubi weaved through the tables trailing invitational vetiver in their wake. Fortunately, the allure only proved appealing to baser natured creatures—like the table of weres already on their way to a good drunk. He recognized them from their arrival that morning.
Boorish lot.
The hostess directed him to a table near the front, tucked into a well of privacy. The occasional voice climbed high enough to be heard, but otherwise he enjoyed the peace. Anton and David stood at either end of the rounded booth, and Frederick hesitated at the table’s edge.
He hadn’t been invited to sit.
Fortunately he seemed smart enough to understand that. Richard leaned back and studied him. “Well?” He asked after the silence stretched out his irritation—irritation kindled by Kristina’s annoyed phone call. One corner of his mouth quirked up, the call told him two things. She understood the call he sent out, one that summoned her blood to him—an act he could only perform because it was his blood that turned her.
And despite the curse, her loss of memory and a fifty-year separation—she still knew exactly how to spit in his eye and turn him on in the same breath.
“The stage manager doesn’t want to talk to me,” Frederick lowered his voice to barely a whisper. Richard needed to sit forward to hear him.
“Charm her—you landed yourself in hot water with twins, one can only imagine you possess a certain amount of appeal to the fairer sex.”
“I’m sure he does,” a Rubenesque woman interrupted, stepping around the booth and favoring Frederick with a gimlet glare. “But I am neither fair nor interested in sex. So go away, little vampire. You annoy me.”
The stage manager’s—because Richard doubted she could be anyone else—bluntness shocked Frederick, and his eyes widened. An actual trace of fear rolled through his scent. Intrigued, Richard waved the younger vampire away. Perhaps his time at the Royale would harden the soft, spoiled brat into a real man. A century or so would prove that out.
“May I sit?” She motioned to the booth before Richard could rise.
Manners dictated he should stand, but power suggested a better option in remaining in his seat. He inclined his head. “Please. You are the stage manager, Heidi.”
“And you’re the Prince of New York. Now that we’ve gotten the obvious out of
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