Sleeping With the Entity (14 page)

“Why?” Nick said. “What would you have done about it?”

“I would have joined it, of course. Not dressed as a zombie, though.” He pointed to the screen. “Xandra is doing a great job. I don’t mean to be critical but the guy in the back row doesn’t seem to know the steps very well.”

“That’s because he’s a vampire,” Nick said.

“Vampires can dance,” Bruce said as he started moving to the music, matching the beat perfectly.

Neville was impressed. “You’re good,”

“There’s no dancing allowed in the Vamp Cave,” Nick growled.

“Party pooper,” Bruce said.

“Has it occurred to you two that we have an intruder?” Nick said.

“Who can’t dance,” Bruce said.

“This is the second time he’s invaded our territory,” Nick said. “I intend to make sure there is no third time.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Send him to his doom,” Nick said.

“Hey, that sounds like a line from the song ‘Thriller,’” Bruce said. But Nick had already left the room.

Chapter Eleven

The tall vamp named Andy eyed Nick cautiously as the humans around them chattered among themselves and took the coupons Xandra was handing out. The dance was over, but the crowd lingered. Andy wore a long-sleeved hoodie that covered much of his face. “I’m not here to make any trouble,” he said.

“I am,” Nick said. “You’re not welcome here.”

“That’s not very hospitable of you.”

“Tell your boss that just because he’s a Gold Coast vamp, that doesn’t mean he can break the rules.”

“My boss?”

“Miles Payne. We know you work for him.”

A burst of sunshine broke through the clouds, making the intruder wince and step into the shade provided by a large pine tree.

Nick slid on his sunglasses. “Time for you to leave.”

“Miles suggested that our clans work together to try to figure out the deal with the cupcake maker.”

“The deal?”

“Why she can’t be compelled.”

“You tell Miles that the cupcake maker is mine,” Nick said. “All mine. I’m not good at sharing. Ask anyone.”

The other vamp gulped.

“Message received?” Nick said.

Andy nodded before adding with a touch of bravado, “We’ll be back.”

“Would you two like a coupon?” Xandra asked them. “Buy three cupcakes and get a fourth one free.”

“You work for the cupcake maker?” Andy asked.

“We’re not interested,” Nick said.

Xandra grinned. “That’s not what I heard.”

Leaning closer, he growled, “Go away.”

“There’s no need to be rude about it,” she said before hurrying off.

“So you want the cupcake maker for yourself,” Andy said.

“I already told you that,” Nick said. “She’s mine.”

“Miles is my sire. He gets whatever he wants.”

“He gets you to do his dirty work. You’re just his minion.”

Nick saw the anger flash across the other vamp’s face. Minions were below vamps and just above zombies on the supernatural hierarchy scale.

“You don’t scare me, St. George.”

“Which proves you aren’t very smart,” Nick said.

“Strength is more important than brains.”

“Strength and brains are the most powerful of all.”

“Miles has both strength and brains,” Andy bragged.

“If he did, then he wouldn’t send a minion like you,” Nick retorted.

Nick saw the hatred in the other vamp’s eyes, eyes that had gone dark with feral fury. “You will regret insulting my sire.”

“And you will regret ever coming here if you don’t leave right now.”

Andy gave him the finger before turning and walking away.

*   *   *

“How was the flash mob?” Daniella asked as Xandra bopped through the door with her customary enthusiasm.

“Everyone is totally stoked about your cupcakes.” She pointed to the crowd that followed her in as if she were the Pied Piper.

The next hour was bedlam as a steady stream of customers lined up for Daniella’s cupcakes. The Blood Red Velvet was a big favorite, as were the Thriller Killer Chocolate and the Ghostess Twinkies.

Daniella was glad she’d scheduled both Lois and Xandra to work today as that allowed her to focus on taking special orders from customers. And there were tons of special orders. She had to be careful not to overextend and take more jobs than she could complete, but Xandra had assured her that she could work as many hours as Daniella needed

They sold the last cupcake ten minutes before closing time. “Another sellout,” Xandra said before turning the sign on the door to
CLOSED
and flipping the lock.

“Your feet must be killing you,” Daniella said to Lois, who was wearing stiletto boots for some reason. It was a strange footwear choice for someone as maternal as Lois.

“No, I’m fine. I don’t get aches and pains like other people my age. That is to say, these boots are comfortable,” she quickly added.

“My mom swears she wore four-inch heels the entire time she was pregnant with me,” Xandra said. “She claimed it prevented her from getting backaches.”

Since Daniella was adopted, she didn’t have any tales about her birth mom’s pregnancy with her. Her mom did use to laugh about how she’d used her tummy as a shelf to temporarily set trays of cookies and cupcakes on when she was eight months’ pregnant with Gordon. How she’d craved White Castle slider hamburgers with a dollop of whipped cream from a can on top. How Gordon had kicked whenever a Foreigner song played on the radio.

Daniella didn’t have any of those stories. But she had others. Of how thrilled her mom had been the first time she saw her when Daniella was only a day old. Of how Daniella loved being hugged and cuddled so much more than Gordon had as a baby.

Daniella rarely thought about being adopted because it wasn’t a big deal to her. Her parents had made sure of that. The fact that she was adopted was a part of her the same way that her fear of the dark and her being double-jointed was a part of her.

“Your flash dance was very successful,” Lois was telling Xandra.

“It was a flash mob dancing, and yes it did work out. It helped that Halloween is just around the corner. Are you dressing up, Lois?”

“I have some fangs,” Lois noted.

“Righteous,” Xandra said, giving her a high five. “Perfect for working in a dental clinic and a cupcake shop. I might pick up a pair myself. I saw some on the Internet that claimed to be the most realistic around.”

“I doubt they could be more realistic than mine,” Lois said drily.

Xandra bounced up and down, reminding Daniella of Tigger from Winnie-the-Pooh fame. “A challenge! I love it. You’re on. We’ll compare fangs. The shop is closed on Halloween because it’s a Monday so we could do it the day before. What do you say? Daniella, you should wear fangs, too.”

“I was going to be Glinda the Good Witch from
The Wizard of Oz,
” Daniella said.

“Because of the dress, right?” Xandra guessed.

Daniella nodded. “And the glitter and the magic wand. Who doesn’t like magic wands?”

“I saw
Wicked,
” Xandra said. “It was pure awesomeness. I have the music on my iPod. We should play ‘Defying Gravity’ while we’re baking.”

“Are you into magic?” Lois asked Daniella.

Daniella laughed. “Only when it involves cupcakes.”

Lois appeared surprised. “You put something magical in your cupcakes?”

“A lot of love. And all-natural ingredients like butter and sugar and flour and eggs.” Daniella’s voice reflected her pride.

“Tomorrow is your day off,” Lois said. “Do you have any plans?”

“There’s a chocolate and potato chip cupcake recipe I’d like to experiment with,” Daniella said. “Plus I have tons of errands to run.”

“Chocolate and potato chip. Sweet and salty.” Xandra gave her a fist bump in approval. “Awesome.”

“Thank you.” Daniella grinned modestly. “I got the idea from my mentor, a fellow cupcake maker in New York City.”

“That reminds me…” Xandra paused to check her smartphone. “Yes!” She punched her fist into the air with the triumph of a Shaun White, snowboarder extraordinaire. “Blogger Cupcake Q-tea has her new review up about Heavenly Cupcakes.”

Daniella immediately crossed her fingers. “Is it okay?”

“No.”

Daniella’s heart dropped with dread.

“You stomped it.”

“That’s bad, right?”

“No way. You tell a snowboarder they’ve stomped it when they solidly land a snowboarding trick with joyful confidence. It means they did a fiercely awesome job.”

Daniella looked over Xandra’s shoulder to try to read the review on her smartphone. “Cupcake Q-tea says I stomped it?”

“No. She’s unaware of that term. Here’s what she did say.” Xandra cleared her throat before beginning. “‘Heavenly Cupcakes is a welcome new addition to the Chicago cupcake scene. The Blood Red Velvet, so named for Halloween, is a staple at most cupcake shops, but this was one of the best I’ve had. All-natural ingredients is a motto of theirs, and that comes across in the perfect blend of moist cake and cream cheese frosting. Other favorites included the cookies ’n’ cream with just the right amount of cookie crumbs in the buttery icing. The cleverly named Ghostess Twinkie had real whipped cream piped inside. They close when they run out of cupcakes so go early!’”

Daniella did her own version of a moonwalk, shuffling backward.

“That looked more like a Snoopy happy dance than Michael Jackson,” Xandra said with a laugh.

Daniella laughed with her. “Which is why you went to the flash mob dance and not me.”

“There’s never been a dance as good as the Charleston that the flappers danced in the Roaring Twenties,” Lois said. She proceeded to show them how it was done, kicking up her heels before bending forward to put her hands on her knees and shifting them back and forth.

Neither Daniella nor Xandra was able to keep up with her. “You’re good,” Daniella gasped, breathless from the energetic dance.

“Those were the days,” Lois said wistfully. “Chicago had hundreds of jazz clubs. We bobbed our hair and wore short skirts. Not short by today’s standards but certainly by that time period’s. We were brash and bawdy. When Prohibition arrived, we kept the party going in back-alley speakeasies.” There was an excited light in her eyes.

“You sound like you were around at that time, which isn’t possible,” Daniella said.

“Right.” Lois’s expression returned to her customary sedate state. “My grandmother used to tell me about it. Or maybe it was my great-grandmother.”

“There was a popular documentary on PBS about Prohibition done by Ken Burns,” Daniella said. “I watched it.”

“Yes, it was good but not the same as actually living through it.” The wistful note was back in her voice.

“Chicago was at the center of bootlegging and speakeasies,” Daniella said. “The buildings on this block were all built in the early 1920s. I wonder if any of them was turned into a speakeasy. It would be fun to check that out someday. When I have the time. In a few years or so.” She shook her head at the thought of her already pages-long to-do list.

“Time is something I have a lot of,” Lois said.

“That must be nice.” Now Daniella was the one who sounded a bit wistful.

“It sure beats the alternative,” Lois said.

“Which is?”

“Having your time run out.”

Daniella felt a chill run up her spine. “Well, on that happy note, let’s call it a day.”

*   *   *

“How did the flash mob go?” Neville asked Nick as he entered the Vamp Cave.

“You saw it on the surveillance cameras.”

“You looked like you wanted to decapitate Andy.”

“I did want to decapitate him, but I restrained myself.”

“Restrained yourself from what?” Pat asked as he joined them.

“From decapitation of one of Miles’s latest recruits,” Nick said.

“Probably a good thing,” Pat said. “Not in broad daylight in front of a crowd. That would not be a good idea.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Nick started impatiently pacing.

Pat frowned. “This is the second time Andy has shown up on our doorstep, so to speak. On our territory.”

“Nick told him the cupcake maker is his,” Neville said.

“I can speak for myself,” Nick growled.

“Right.” Neville lowered his head and focused on his laptop.

“So this is all about the cupcake maker?” Pat asked.

“So it would appear,” Nick said.

“I still want to know how word got out about her. We’ve had a truce with the Gold Coast vamps for years now. An uneasy truce, granted. But a truce, nonetheless,” Pat said.

“Miles has always been jealous of our ability to tolerate sunlight better than they can,” Nick said.

“But he’s never acted on that jealousy,” Pat pointed out.

“He’s tried to hack into our computer system to find out how we managed that,” Neville said.

“But we’re always a few steps ahead of him in that regard. This is a much more direct challenge. Sending a minion sired by him…” Nick shook his head.

“He’s not really a minion. Andy really is a vampire. A recently turned vamp, but … Oh, you were just using the term as an insult.” Neville nodded and pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. The frame had bits of duct tape holding the earpiece together. “Right. I get it now.”

“What happened to the pair of designer glasses Bruce got for you?” Pat asked. “They were done by that
American Idol
guy. What’s his name again?”

“Randy Jackson,” Neville said. “I wear them when I go out but not when I’m in the Vamp Cave.”

Pat gave him a puzzled look. “Why not? Bruce said they made you look smart.”

“I
am
smart,” Neville said. “But I feel even smarter when I wear my real glasses.”

Pat laughed. “This is the kind of small talk that drives Nick nuts.”

“Yet knowing that, you do it anyway,” Nick said.

“We just like yanking your chain.” Pat grinned.

“Consider it yanked,” Nick said. “Can we move on now?”

“Sure.”

“What if they try to compel Gordon to talk about the blood recycling at the funeral home?” Neville abruptly asked.

“We already implanted a default in Gordon’s mind and his dad’s to avoid that issue. And they can’t compel any of us because vamps can’t compel other vamps,” Nick said.