All I Want for Christmas Is a Vampire - By Kerrelyn Sparks Page 0,39

close to the stage where a hunky guy gyrated, his sparkly red thong glittering under the lights. Well, Carlos would enjoy seeing that. Other than the male dancer, most everyone else was female. Even the bartender and DJ were women.

She noted a few Vamps sitting at the tables and drinking something red from glasses. Blood, no doubt, but would a picture of them constitute proof of the existence of vampires? It might look like a picture of regular people drinking red wine.

"Can I get ye something to drink?" Ian smiled when she made a face. "They have a few nonbloody drinks."

"A Diet Coke then. I have a final tomorrow." And she was on a mission now, so she needed her wits about her. "I can't stay very long. I should be home by ten."

"I can teleport ye home whenever ye like." He led her toward the tables.

A female suddenly materialized next to the bar with a cell phone by her ear. She hung up, then dashed to the stage.

"What was that?" Toni turned to follow her movements, but she wasn't sure if her camera had caught everything.

"Vamps call if they're teleporting in for the first time," Ian explained. "They use the phone as a sensory beacon to make sure they come to the right place."

"Oh." She wondered if she'd reacted fast enough to catch the Vamp in the act. "Is there a ladies' room?"

"Aye, over there." He touched her shoulder. "Be careful."

"I thought all these Vamps were bottle drinkers."

"They are, but after a few Blisskys and Bleers, they could be drunk and not behave themselves."

"Oh, great." As she strode toward the restrooms, she became aware of the sly looks being cast her way, and the slight flaring of nostrils as each Vamp caught her scent. She felt like a walking appetizer.

She entered the ladies' room and found a beautiful blonde, primping in front of the mirror. No, it wasn't a mirror, but a giant flat-screen TV. Two cameras on the wall were aimed at the row of sinks. Of course. Digital technology was the only way the Vamps could see themselves.

The blonde turned toward her and wrinkled her turned-up nose. "Good heavens, how did you get in here?" she asked with a snooty British accent.

"It was amazing. I pushed on the door, and it opened."

"I wasn't referring to this powder room, you silly gel," the blonde Vamp continued. "I'm one of the owners of this establishment, and we do not welcome your kind."

"Oh, pardon me, Your Highness." Toni refrained from doing a curtsy. "I thought this was a free country."

"What's going on?" A redhead exited a stall. "Hey, Pamela." She looked at Toni and sniffed.

"How did she get in here?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Pamela huffed. "I've told Hugo a million times not to let any mortals inside."

"I came with Ian MacPhie." Toni glared at the arrogant Vamps. "I'm his guard, which means I can kick ass."

Pamela laughed. "Ian would never allow a female to guard him. In fact, he would never need a guard at all."

"Did you say Ian MacPhie?" the redhead asked. "Isn't he that gorgeous guy on Single in the City?"

"Oh my God!" A brunette burst from another stall. "Ian MacPhie is here?" She glanced at Toni.

"Can I meet him?"

"I want to meet him, too." The redhead approached Toni. "Can you set me up with him?"

Damn, she'd gone from feeling like an appetizer to a pimp. A twinge of jealousy jabbed at her, but she steeled herself against it. The kiss had been a mistake. Ian was not her type. She preferred men who were alive, dammit. So she had to accept the fact that he would pursue these Vamp women. One of them would be his starlit, shimmering princess. One of them would be kissing him from now on.

"I know Ian personally," Pamela boasted. "He used to guard me when I was a member of Roman Draganesti's harem."

The brunette turned to Pamela. "Is he really that handsome?"

"And rich?" the redhead added.

"Come with me. I shall introduce you." Pamela aimed a superior smirk at Toni as she sauntered toward the door. "You know I have an interesting theory regarding Ian."

"What is it?" the brunette asked as she trailed behind.

"I believe he's a five-hundred-year-old virgin," Pamela announced.

"Not for long," the redhead muttered.

There was a twitter of laughter as the three women left the room.

"You didn't wash your hands!" Toni called after them. She gritted her teeth. How could Ian prefer them? But at least the room was