empty now, and she had complete privacy. She moved out of range of the cameras and dialed Carlos.
She could lose a year of her life. The thought kept haunting her. It wasn't fair, dammit! These Vamps lived for centuries, while her life was way too short. How could they steal a year from her?
"Hello?" Carlos answered.
"Did you get the shot of a Vamp teleporting here?"
"Menina, you're at the club?"
"Yes. Aren't you watching?"
"No, I'll watch the video later. Right now I'm on my way to Westchester."
Toni gasped. "You're going to the Proctors' house?"
"Don't worry. They'll never know I'm there. And I finished checking out their financial records. Uncle Joe has a bad habit of going to Atlantic City."
"How do you know?"
"Credit cards leave a trail, girlfriend."
"But how do you know how to--"
"Do you like your new ringtone?" he interrupted.
"No. Your death will be slow and painful."
He laughed. "Now, don't worry about the video. It's recording at my place. You just catch those naughty Vamps doing something vampy, okay?"
"Okay." So he hadn't seen Ian kissing her. "Carlos, when I quit working for them, they're going to erase my memory. I won't remember squat!"
There was a pause. "Bastards," Carlos muttered. "Don't worry. If they erase anything, I'll tell you what happened. You just get the proof we need as quickly as possible. That way, you'll only lose a few days."
She would lose more than a few days. She would lose all memory of Ian. And the kiss. For some weird reason that made her heart squeeze in her chest.
"Are you all right, love?" Carlos asked.
"This really sucks." Toni snapped her phone shut, then strode back into the club.
Chapter Nine
Ian ordered a Bleer and a Diet Coke from the bartender.
"Is Vanda here?" He handed Cora Lee a ten-dollar bill.
"Over there. Sounds like she's all riled up again."
Ian glanced toward the stage. The music had stopped, and the crowd of lady Vamps had gathered around to hear Vanda rail at a dancer.
"This isn't a whorehouse!" she yelled. "You're fired!"
"There goes another dancer." Cora Lee waved her arms in the air. "Woohoo, Vanda! Ian's here!" The crowd turned in unison to stare at him.
"Is that Ian MacPhie?" one of the ladies asked.
"Sure is," Cora Lee shouted. "Come and git 'im!"
The crowd moved forward. Ian gulped.
Cora Lee giggled, then whispered, "Looks like your wish will come true now. You're sure to get laid tonight."
"Ian!" Pamela called. "I have two ladies who want to meet you." She motioned to the women accompanying her.
"We saw him first!" a lady in the crowd yelled, and they rushed forward.
"Bloody hell." Ian pressed back against the bar.
"Back off!" Vanda unwrapped the whip from her waist and flicked it at the crowd. "You heard me! Line up and wait your turn!"
The ladies scrambled to form a queue. Ian winced at the amount of pushing and cursing. They acted more like wrestlers than ladies. And there were more than fifty of them.
Vanda grinned at Ian. "Isn't this great? That profile I wrote was incredible! Everyone wants to date you."
"I canna date fifty women in one night."
"Sure you can." She wound the whip back around her waist. "It's called speed dating."
"But I already told three women I'd meet them here."
Vanda waved that aside. "We'll let them go first." She turned to Cora Lee. "Don't you have a kitchen timer?"
"Yep." Cora Lee handed over a white plastic timer.
Vanda set it on a table. "We'll give them each five minutes."
"It'll take hours." Ian brought the drinks to the table.
"You got anything better to do?" Vanda eyed the Diet Coke. "What's with the mortal drink?"
"I brought Toni with me. She's the new day guard at the townhouse."
Vanda's eyes widened. "She? Connor hired a woman?"
Two nights ago, Ian had felt equally as shocked, but now he wanted to defend her. "She's an excellent fighter."
Vanda gave him a dubious look. "I'm picturing a moose woman with a unibrow, who's popping steroids."
Ian stiffened. "Nay! She's--"
"Hey, Ian!" a lady shouted from across the club. "What the hell happened to our date? We talked on the phone last night. Don't you remember?"
"Aye." He tried to recall the sound of her voice. "Ye're Stormy?"
"Tempest." Her eyes flashed with annoyance. "And this is Moonbeam and Cindy." She motioned to the women beside her. "We talked to you last night. We have seniority!"
"You may come to the front of the line," Vanda ordered. "Ian will begin shortly."
He groaned. What would he say to all these women? "Why are there so many of them?"
"You're the number one