The Real Werewives of Vampire County - By Alexandra Ivy Page 0,49
Dynasty. Alexis Carrington and her pack wore skimpy gowns and jewels to outdoor parties. They even had shoulder pads. I was not overdressed for a society party. I couldn’t be.
“Don’t worry about it,” Nina said, as if she could read my mind. “Nobody swims anyway.”
I was just about to think of a way to escape when one of the glass doors at the back of the house slid open. “Nina!” Francine breezed in wearing a getup that reminded me more of a 1940s pinup outfit than swimwear. “Stop drinking your dinner and get your ass out here.”
“I need to fortify myself before Samuel arrives,” she said, fishing out a cherry and biting it.
“You knew he was a Puritan when you married him.”
“Yeah, but I thought in four hundred years, he would have grown out of it.” Nina glanced at me. “He’s going through a relapse. You know how it is.”
I nodded, not even wanting to think about how these women could marry vampires.
“What are you wearing?” Francine asked, walking a slow circle around me.
“I don’t swim,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Obviously.”
My fingers squeezed the crinkly wrapping of my hostess gift as I endured her scrutiny. At that moment, I wished I’d been holding my lucky boot knife, and it took everything I had not to reach down in my bra and pull it out.
At least then I’d feel capable of defending myself.
Nina breezed past. “Let’s get out to the party.”
The entire patio was filled with women in swimsuits and wraps that were never designed to touch water. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that everything out here was dry-clean only. They clustered around mosaic tables and on padded chaise lounges. A band had set up in the back, playing island-themed music.
My skin crawled with the need to escape. It wasn’t only the fact that a twelve-foot wall surrounded the entire pool area, it was the keen knowledge that I did not belong here—even if I was a guest of honor.
Ha.
More like the main course.
Okay, well, the sooner I questioned Francine, the faster I could make my escape. I knew she was involved in Sunny’s murder the same way I knew she’d taped her boobs into that gravity-defying pinup swimsuit.
“Francine,” I said, as she attempted to glide toward a cluster of polished women. “I have a gift for you.” I dangled Tia’s perfectly wrapped bottle of eau de dead chipmunk.
The vulture assessed me. “Not now, werewolf.”
I gripped her on the arm, knowing her kind didn’t like touch. “I need to talk to you.”
Her eyes were dark with fury as she attempted to shake me off.
I held on tighter. “Don’t think I won’t make a scene.”
“Tsk! You think I care if you make a scene? Hell. It would be the highlight. They’d be talking about my party for the next year.”
“Don’t you want to know why Lucien married me?” I asked, tempting her with information.
“Sure thing, hon. I’m dying to know what you had on him,” she said, shrugging out of my grip, while at the same time smiling to a group of guests. “Over here.”
She led me to the edge of the pool area, where plants spilled from terra-cotta pots and part of the stone wall gave way to a rocky waterfall.
“Now let’s get one thing straight,” she began, as I locked eyes with her and released a surge of power from low in my chest.
She made me jumpy, nervous. I channeled that anxiety and more as I flung my power out at her.
Shadows fell over her face as she backed farther into the palms, wet with water.
That’s it. Back away. Run. There’s nowhere to hide.
My head buzzed with energy and a dry tightness seized the back of my throat. My mind locked with hers. As soon as I felt the connection, I asked, “Did you kill Sunny McCarty?”
“Ouch!” she said a second before my power whipped back and smacked me between the eyes.
“Son of a—” I stamped one well-heeled foot on the pavement so hard I was sure I heard a crack.
I knew better than to jump too far, too fast. I’d let her get to me. I so wanted this to be over.
Francine cringed like I’d raked my nails over a chalkboard.
Join the club. My head was ringing, too. The goal was to slip into someone’s mind, not zap her with a thousand volts.
“Let’s start over,” I croaked, trying to act as if my skull wasn’t ringing.
This time, I eased into her mind. I let the power connect