pulse of heat from her breasts to her sex and back up again.
“Kiki. And stop calling me—I have a show to put on and I just screwed up my makeup. I will see you after the performance unless you keep pissing me off.” Proud that she didn’t dissolve into a quivering mass of sexual need and satisfied with telling him off, she hung up and went back to repairing her makeup.
Britta appeared in her periphery and leaned a hip against the counter. Cosmetics applied to perfection, right down to her ruby lipstick and glittering eye shadow, Britta looked like Kiki always wanted to—together and seductive without being slutty.
The mascara applicator fell to the counter as the constant drag pulling her sideways ceased.
“You okay?” Britta caught her arm, steadying her. Kiki belatedly realized she swayed and forced herself to sit down.
“I used to dress slutty just to piss him off.” Planting her hands on the tabletop, she trembled. “I used to dress slutty just to piss him off.”
“You realize you’re repeating yourself, right?” Britta bit her lip and tilted her head sideways. “Honey, you’re really pale. You want me to get you a drink?”
Her stomach cramped hard at the offer, but she shook her head. “No—I mean yes—but not right now. I used to dress… I knew him.” She waited for the thought to get swept away like every other half-formed memory she managed to glimpse, but it stuck stubbornly and she looked up at Britta, grinning. “I knew him. What he said about knowing me? I knew him too.”
“Yeah, okay. You’ve got the crazies tonight, but we need to know what we’re dancing to.”
“No.” Kiki bounced up. “I mean—yeah, I’ll tell you. But I met someone last night and…”
“You met someone and you’re just now mentioning it?” Rising, hands on her hips, Britta gave her a hard look. “You went out and didn’t invite me?”
Wrapping her in a quick embrace. “Not on purpose and don’t be like that. I just had to get out and I didn’t realize he was calling me, but he was and I went and then he was there and we were together and we up to his room. Oh my God can the man kiss, and three orgasms later I had to get back down here, but I was late and Stan was pissed and I woke 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
“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
The other dancers grumbled good-naturedly and laughed, but Kiki barely heard them.
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 the way, let’s discuss Kiki.”
“Her name is Kristina.” He’d never been fond of that nickname and would prefer to wash her free of it altogether. “And she is the Princess of New York, not some common performer.”
“Well, in one area we are agreed—she is no ordinary performer. That said, you are forbidden from interfering in her service to the Midnight Mystery Lounge. She may see you if she chooses in the free hours after the show, but she is to return to the Lounge before sunrise. That is non-negotiable.”
Richard snapped his mouth shut lest he gape at the woman. “You don’t—”
“No. Look, I can pander to your title and your ego and I can say all the polite things, but the truth here will serve you far better. I cannot help you. I cannot help her. I will protect her for as long as I am able. The rest is up to the two of you. I will provide you with no clues and no access to my files. I will certainly not cater to the boy vampire’s crude attempts to befriend me. You are fortunate that I am not forbidding Kiki from seeing you, nor am I reporting her infractions.”
Anton and David shifted imperceptibly, but Richard waved them off. The harsh tone, the forceful words and the cold look in the woman’s implacable gaze—they were too direct, too specific and far too harsh no matter his position. The house did not show its hand, did not display power or disdain unless…
“You wouldn’t be wise to forbid her. She has never been one to obey even when it was in her best interests.” It flew in the face of his nature to forgo orders, but four hundred years together gave him some insight into his bride’s needs, or so he’d always believed.
“Excellent. Then we have an understanding.” Heidi rose, and Richard moved, catching her arm before she could take a single step away. The chill in her stare sliced at him, but he didn’t relax his grip. His nostrils flared. The stage manager’s scent confused him. White peppermint—snow cold and crisp—mingled with dark chocolate, an undertone of dark woods or bark found hidden in deep southern forests and an herbal almost-wintergreen hint,
