Box Office Poison

vampire?” I asked. “Because, seriously, who thought Ryan was a good choice? A vampire who was seducing female associates and risking everybody’s lives.”

“It’s a personal choice.” David gave the tight, closed-lip vampire smile. “To question another’s actions is tantamount to a challenge.”

The way he said challenge made it seem like a piece of vampire etiquette, one that I had never heard of, despite being fostered in a vampire household.

I was getting answers from one of the notoriously close-mouthed members of the Powers. I decided to see how long it would last. “Given your strictures against turning women, does that mean there are a lot of gay vampires … or at least gay men who became vampires?”

“Are you asking about my sexuality?” David asked.

I shook my head. “No. It’s me blurting out whatever is in my head. It’s also about me adding to my store of vampire lore and understanding. But now that you mention it, are you … were you gay?”

David laughed. It wasn’t the reaction I expected. “Linnet, Linnet, you are the oddest human I know. Perhaps it’s because you were fostered, but you seem to be completely fearless about us.”

“Let’s just say unimpressed,” I said.

“But still curious.”

“Very.”

“Your liege never discussed these matters?”

“Mr. Bainbridge wasn’t your typical vampire, and even he would never discuss sex with a young woman in his care.”

“And neither will I,” David said.

“Because you consider me in your care? Because I’m a woman? Or because you’re uncomfortable talking about it?”

David leaned back in his chair and took another long drink of blood. “You’re a good lawyer, Linnet. No matter which part of that question I answer, and no matter how I answer it, I’m fucked.”

I smiled at him, and he gave me a smile in return. At that moment the door to the conference room flew open, and a slim vampire of middle height blew in. Hank Pizer had a narrow, sharp-featured face with bright blue eyes and slicked-back black hair. Unlike every other vampire I’d ever met he had a deep tan. I looked closer and realized he had used a self-tanning spray. That was startling. More startling was the broad smile that he bestowed on us, revealing his long, pointed canines.

“Hey, Davy … Linnie. Welcome to LaLa Land.”

I didn’t mind the diminutive, having been called that for much of my childhood, but it was surprising to hear it from someone I hadn’t even technically met, especially given the formality of the New York office. I glanced at David, expecting an explosion. Again, he surprised me. He just sighed and shook his head.

“Hank, strive to recall that you’re a vampire now. You can get away with it around me, but don’t try it with the senior partners.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Pizer said. Startled, I looked to David, but he studiously avoided my gaze.

Pizer flung himself into a chair. “So, here we are. In the center of a legal shit storm.” His expression said how much he loved it.

“Let’s discuss the case,” David said.

Pizer shrugged. “You got the papers.”

“I’d like your take on it,” David said. “Right now it looks like one set of pretty, vapid, and narcissistic people is mad at another group of even prettier, more vapid, and far more narcissistic people.”

“With that attitude toward actors you’d make a great producer,” Pizer said. “Okay. Short version. The Powers come out. By the mid-1970s a few Alfar are starting to join the Screen Actors Guild and auditioning for parts, and getting them too, but it’s just a trickle, so no big whoop. But then a lot of bankable human stars start to age and die, and more Alfar show up, and new, young execs take control of the studios and the networks. They’re comfortable around the Powers, so they cast more Alfar, and then more Alfar come to Hollywood and join SAG. Now the Guild is half-human and half-Alfar, but guess who’s getting most of the juicy roles?”

“The Alfar,” I said.

Pizer made a gun with his forefinger and pretended to shoot me. “Right in one. They are awesome in the room.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“That’s Hollywood speak. You don’t have a meeting, you get in a room together.”

“Well, that’s obnoxious,” David said.

“Point is, they’re prettier than humans.”

“Their charisma doesn’t translate to the screen,” I said. “They are gorgeous, but I know—knew—an Alfar. It’s just not the same.” John’s perfect features swam briefly before my mind’s eye.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. It works in the audition, and like you said, they are gorgeous,” Pizer said.

“All of which proves my point. This is unworthy of serious legal action,” David huffed.

“So what? You want me to tell them to forget it? Get a different firm? It’s taken months to get the human actors, the Alfar actors, the studios, the networks, and all their lawyers to agree on Ishmael, and it’s a big payday for the firm.”

“Of course I’m not saying that.” David shook his head like a bull bedeviled by flies. “I’m just complaining. It’s too sunny here, and I can already tell I hate both sides, and this actor Montolbano who drew us into this.”

“There’s something I don’t understand,” I said. “The parties picked IMG to arbitrate. Why not use you? You’re here. You do entertainment law. Why bring us in from New York?”

“Because I’m a player,” Hank said.

“And Hank can always be found at a Hollywood party,” David said somewhat sourly. “Not exactly impartial. Or so the argument would go.”

Pizer did the gun/finger thing again. Hank was rather charming for a vampire, but I decided this 1970s habit could get real old real fast. “Exactly. They know we’ve got the moxie—as you would say—to handle this issue,” he grinned at David. “But folks on the West Coast figured you cold, proper Yankees wouldn’t be appropriately impressed with Hollywood glitz and glamour.”

“Well, they’d be wrong,” I said.

David slewed around in his chair and stared at me. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re a fan.”

“There isn’t a woman breathing who doesn’t think Montolbano is hot, hot, hot,” I said. Pizer gave a wild laugh.

“For an actor he’s also whip smart,” Pizer said. “It was genius to propose an arbitration before his guild tore itself apart.”

I stood and crossed to the stack of folders, laid my hand on top. “We got the Cliff Notes version of this. I’m assuming that witnesses have been approved and most depositions have been taken?”

“Yeah, we’re ready to rock and roll,” Pizer said.

“I don’t suppose you have copies of all this so we can read in our hotel rooms?” I asked.

“Of course I do. I’m Mr. Organization. Copies are already in each of your rooms and a second set in your offices. And no offense, but you look whipped.”

I forced a smile and counted to ten. Vampires are all about the courtesy except when they’re unbelievably rude, because humans just don’t rate.

“I am pretty tired.”

“Have the driver take you to the hotel,” David said. “I’ll stay here. The windows are UV-protected, and the blood is fresh.”

I gathered up my belongings and started for the door. “Hey,” Pizer said to David as I was leaving, “I didn’t know that place in Cabo was just a front for the mob. I’m making up for it this time. You’re staying at the Beverly fucking Hills Hotel. Just one of the premier hotels in LA. Why are you always such a—”

I shut the door behind me, cutting off the bickering, rolled my eyes, and headed for the elevators.