Vamps And The City (6 page)

“I’m Fabio Funicello,” the mountain troll grunted as he emptied five sugar packets into his coffee.

“Nice to meet you.” Austin sidled over to an empty corner of the room with Garrett close behind. “You were saying?”

Garrett looked around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. “When I was in the conference room, I could see my reflection in the windows overlooking the street.”

“So?” A heavy stone settled in Austin’s gut.

Garrett lowered his voice to a hushed whisper. “The ladies were not reflected. None of them were.”

A chill skittered down Austin’s back. Holy shit. “It… it’s not positive proof. It could be a matter of the lighting, and where you were standing, and a bunch of other factors.”

Garrett shrugged. “Maybe so, but I’m betting all three of them are… up the creek without a coffin.”

Austin’s stomach twinged. The coffee left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he set the cup down on a nearby table. It couldn’t be true. “No, wait. Sean said a lady called this agency in the afternoon. During daylight. That had to be Darcy.” She had to be alive.

“May I have your attention, please?” Ms. Stein’s voice rang out, and the room grew silent. “Five men have been selected for The Sexiest Man on Earth reality show. If you’ve been chosen, please remain here so I can give you your contracts.”

While she paused, the atmosphere in the room sizzled with tension. Men loosened their ties. Fists clenched with anticipation. Fabio climbed up on a chair so he could see.

“Garth Manly,” Ms. Stein announced with a satisfied smile aimed at Garrett. Her smile faded as she hurried down the rest of the list. “Adam Cartwright, Nicholas Poulos, George Martinez, and Seth Howard. Congratulations.”

While the room buzzed with shouts of excitement and groans of defeat, Austin leaned toward Garrett and whispered, “Call Sean. Tell him we’re in.”

Garrett nodded and pulled out his cell phone. Fabio hopped down from his chair with an angry grunt and waddled out the door. More disappointed men trudged out while the other three who were selected gathered around Ms. Stein. She gave them their paperwork, then strode toward Austin and Garrett.

Garrett completed his call to Sean and pocketed his phone.

“I suppose congratulations are in order.” Ms. Stein regarded them sadly. “Here are your contracts.”

“Thank you.” Austin took his and glanced over it. “Ms. Stein, did you notice anything unusual about tonight?”

She made a sour face. “The whole evening was ridiculous. My character actors are very talented, but not at all suited for a contest called The Sexiest Man on Earth.”

“What can you tell me about Miss Darcy?” Austin asked. “Is that her last name?”

“I really don’t know.” Ms. Stein stepped closer. “Is this DVN a legitimate network? I’ve never heard of them.”

“They’re legit. Been in business for over five years.”

“Hmm.” Ms. Stein frowned as she handed Garrett a contract. “They seemed a little odd to me.”

“Yeah,” Garrett agreed. “That purple hair was a bit much.”

She waved a hand in dismissal. “I work with creative people all the time. I’m used to that. No, it was the way they kept…”

“What?” Austin pressed.

“Well.” Ms Stein looked around, then lowered her voice. “At first, there were just two of them. But then, there were three. And when I peeked in just a moment ago, there were only two again. I never saw that purple-headed one come or go, did you?”

Austin exchanged a glance with Garrett. Obviously, the purple-haired Vanda Barkowski was teleporting, which meant she was definitely a vampire. “Don’t worry about it, Ms. Stein. I’m sure there’s a simple explanation.”

She huffed. “I’m not stupid, Mr… Cartwright.”

Garrett touched her shoulder. “Try not to let this upset you, ma’am. We have everything under control.”

She smiled at Garrett. “Thank God our nation’s security is in capable hands like yours.”

But not mine? “I’ll be going now.” Austin nodded at Ms. Stein and Garrett. “Good night.”

While Austin waited for an elevator, he punched in the number for information on his cell phone. “Digital Video Network in Brooklyn.” He removed a notepad from his jacket pocket and jotted down the number. “Thank you.”

He waited ’til he was out of the building and walking down the busy sidewalk before he made the next call.

“This is DVN,” a receptionist answered with a nasal voice. “If you’re not digital, you can’t be seen.”

Well, that made sense… if you were undead. “That’s a catchy phrase.”

“It’s lame, but I have to say it whenever I answer the phone. So, what do you want?”

“My name is… Damien, and I have a message here to call, let me see… shit, I can’t make out this handwriting. Darcy something. She’s the new director of that reality show.”

“Oh, you mean Darcy Newhart?”

Bingo. “Yeah, that’s it. Is she in?”

“Not at the moment.” The receptionist paused. “She’ll be here tomorrow night for sure. Are you going to audition?”

“Yeah, I thought I would.”

“Well, open call is tomorrow night and Friday night, starting at ten o’clock. You’d better get here early. We’re expecting a huge turnout.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks.” Austin pocketed his phone. Darcy Newhart. He was making progress. He climbed into his car and drove to the office. Emma was there, going over police reports while DVN played on her computer screen.

He went straight to his desk and did a search on Darcy Newhart. A list of newspaper reports came up. He stared at the headlines, stunned. “Local Reporter Missing,”

“Where’s Darcy?”

“Reporter feared Murdered.”

Austin’s fingers felt numb as he clicked on the first report. Date: October 31, 2001. Four years ago on Halloween. He’d been stationed in Prague during that time. Place: Fangs of Fortune Vampire Club in Greenwich Village. A joint where kids pretended they were vampires. Some of the kids remembered seeing Darcy and her cameraman leave through the back exit. Darcy was never seen again.

This was bad. Austin clicked on the next report. Three days later, and Darcy was still missing. The cameraman had shown up, hiding at Battery Park and suffering from exposure. He’d been admitted to Shady Harbor Mental Hospital, babbling that Darcy had been abducted by vampires.

This was really bad. Austin’s grip on the mouse tightened as he clicked on the last report. A picture of Darcy appeared on the screen. She looked the same as she did now, but then, as young as she was, four years might not make much of a difference. Two weeks had passed since she’d disappeared. Her body had never been found, but a bloody knife had been discovered outside the club, along with a pool of her blood. Authorities had decided she was most likely dead.

Dead? But that would mean she was now a vampire.

Austin completed his research on Darcy Newhart.

She was born in San Diego, the oldest of three daughters. At the time of her disappearance, she was twenty-eight years old. Had she continued to age, or was she stuck at twenty-eight for all eternity?

He switched his investigation to her two companions. The name Vanda Barkowski came up with zilch, but he located a birth certificate for a Margaret Mary O’Brian in 1865. Her parents had emigrated from Ireland during the potato famine. Maggie was the eighth child of twelve, though only seven of them had lived past the age of ten. Poor girl had had a tough life. Hopefully, it was better for her now.

Holy zombies, what was he thinking? She was a vampire. Synthetic blood had only been around for eighteen years. She’d existed for a long time by attacking humans. He shouldn’t be feeling any compassion for these monsters.

Sunshine shot through the window blinds, creating streaks of light across his desk. He wandered to the window to look out. The sidewalks were bustling with early morning commuters; the streets filled with delivery trucks and vans. And Darcy—was she watching the sunrise or was she hidden away, dead to the world?

He gathered up his notes and photos, then drove to the television station in Queens where Darcy had worked. After flashing his badge, he listened to the manager talk for an hour about Darcy. Everyone there had loved her. Some still clung to the hope that she was alive. Austin promised to do his best to solve the mystery of her disappearance and left with a box of copied videotapes of Darcy’s old newscasts. He stashed the box in the trunk and drove to his apartment in Greenwich Village.

He settled on the couch with a beer and a sandwich and began watching Darcy’s old reports. He’d expected it to be boring, but she made him smile and laugh with the crazy situations she got herself into. He was watching her attempt an interview with a pregnant hippo at the Bronx Zoo when he finally fell asleep.

And dreamed of Darcy.

When he woke, the television greeted him with static and snow. He turned the TV and VCR off, noticing the time. Six-forty in the evening. Crap. He’d be late to the seven o’clock nightly meeting. He called the office, but Sean surprised him by telling him to take a few days off.

“Have you signed the contract yet?” Sean asked.

“No sir. I’ll take care of that.” Austin hung up and dug through his papers ’til he located the contract from DVN. An odd paragraph caught his eye. Why not ask Darcy about it? After all, he knew where she would be tonight.

The auditions at DVN were scheduled to begin at ten P.M., so Austin arrived at nine. He slid two stakes into an inside pocket of his jacket. That and the silver crucifix under his shirt would have to suffice for protection.

He hesitated outside the entrance. The letters DVN glowed in neon over his head. Act normal, he warned himself. You don’t know vampires exist. You’re a dumb innocent. Yeah, and he felt like a sheep meandering into a lion’s den.

He pushed open the door and entered. The lobby decor was dramatic, done in shades of black and red. A few men lounged in red leather chairs. They looked at him and sniffed. He strode toward the receptionist desk. The girl was well coordinated with the room, dressed in black with a red scarf around her neck. Even her hair was dyed black with bright red highlights. She was sharpening her red-painted nails with an emery board.

“Good evening.”

Without glancing up, she pointed at a clipboard. “If you’re here for the auditions, sign in,” she began with a nasal voice.

“I’m here to see Darcy Newhart.”

She looked up and sniffed. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to see Darcy Newhart. It’s a business matter.” He showed her the brown envelope in his hand.

“But you’re a—” She snapped her mouth shut, apparently realizing she shouldn’t admit that she wasn’t as alive as he was. “Uh, sure. Her office is down the hall. Fifth door on the right, just before you get to the recording studios.”

“Thank you.” Austin proceeded down the hall, aware that every vampire in the lobby was staring at his back. He knocked on the door. No answer.

“Miss Newhart?” He cracked the door. No one there, though the papers on her desk indicated she’d been there recently. He slipped inside and closed the door. It was a small office—no windows, old desk, old computer. The two chairs facing the desk looked like they’d been retired from an old hotel.

His wandering gaze snagged on a large paper cup on her desk. It had an opaque plastic cover snapped on top with a straw stuck in the hole. He picked it up. It was almost empty. And icy cold. That was good. What vampire would want his blood cold? He lifted the cup to his nose and sniffed. Chocolate? There was another flavor he wasn’t sure of, but the chocolate was definitely there. He grinned. She had to be alive. Still, he should have a taste, just to be sure. He started to peel off the cover.

The door opened. Darcy Newhart strode inside, then stopped short. Her mouth fell open. His did, too, and he didn’t even have the excuse of being surprised. But he’d forgotten how strongly she affected him. His physical reaction was immediate, causing his heart to race and his groin to swell.

Her hair was loose about her shoulders. She was dressed in khaki slacks and a blue T-shirt that molded perfectly to her breasts. The shirt was devoid of any pithy sayings like Hot Babe, which would have been ridiculously redundant in her case.

“Good evening.” He focused on her face, so he would stop ogling her gorgeous body.

“Hello.” Her cheeks flushed a becoming pink. She slowly shut the door. “This is a bit of a surprise, Mr. Cartwright.” Her gaze landed on the cup in his hand, and her face turned pale.

“Sorry.” He shoved the cover back on and set the cup on her desk. “It sure smelled good. Chocolate milkshake?”

“Not exactly. I—” She rushed forward, grabbed the cup, and dropped it in the trash. “I’m… lactose intolerant. Would you like something to drink, Mr. Cartwright?” She motioned toward the door. “I could get you—“

“I’m fine. Thank you.” He smiled, trying to put her at ease. “Since we’ll be working together, why don’t you call me Adam?”

“Okay.” She slipped past him and around the desk. “What can I do for you… Adam?”

“It’s about the contract.” He opened the clasp envelope and removed the papers.

“Shouldn’t you have your agent help you with that?”

“Frankly, it has Ms. Stein confused, too.” At least, Austin figured it would. He turned to page six and pointed at the tiny print at the bottom of the page. “Here it is. DVN will assume no liability for injuries incurred during the term of employment. This includes loss of blood, puncture wounds, and fatalities.”

He glanced up at Darcy. Her face had turned deathly pale. “It seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear with trembling fingers. “It’s fairly standard for DVN. They like to cover all the bases. People tend to sue over the most trivial of things these days.”

“I wouldn’t call puncture wounds or fatalities trivial.”

She waved a hand in the air. “Anything could happen. We’ll be filming in a huge penthouse. You could fall down a flight of stairs, or trip on a rug and—“

“Fall on a fork?”

“Excuse me?”

“Puncture wounds, Miss Newhart. How exactly do you expect me to be punctured?” With a pair of fangs?

Her eye twitched. “I agree the wording is a bit unusual, but the intent is clear. DVN cannot be held responsible for any injuries that may occur during the show.”

“Are you going to require us to do anything dangerous?”

“No, of course not. Believe me, Mr. Cartwright, I’m going to great lengths to insure your safety.”

“You’re concerned for our safety?”

“Of course. I hate to see innocent mort—people get hurt.”

She’d almost said mortals, which seemed a bit odd since she was a mortal herself. Wasn’t she? Dammit, this indecision had to end. “You’re a kind person, Miss Newhart.” He took her hand in his. Her fingers were cold.

“Thank you.” Her gaze dropped to their joined hands. “But I’m not the one you need to impress. There will be a panel of five female judges deciding the outcome of the contest.”

He enveloped her hand with both of his. “I’m not interested in your five judges or the contest.”

Her gaze jerked up. “You don’t want to be in the show? Please don’t let the wording in the contract dissuade you.”

He slipped two fingers around her wrist. “Do you think I could win something called The Sexiest Man on Earth?”

“I—I think you have a sporting chance. And it would certainly look good for your acting career, don’t you think?”

He pressed his fingertips into the soft skin of her wrist. “I really don’t want to be seen as a sex toy.” Except by you.

“I understand. I would feel the same way.” Her cheeks blushed. “But you haven’t heard the latest news. Our producer, Mr. Bacchus, has just announced that the winner will receive a million dollars! Surely that will convince you to do the show?”

“Not really.” He concentrated on his fingertips. Yes, there! Wasn’t that a pulse?

She frowned at him. “I don’t understand. If you’re not interested in winning the title or the prize money, then why are you asking questions about the contract?”

Yes! That was definitely a pulse. It was throbbing rapidly against his fingertips. At last, positive proof. Darcy Newhart was alive. Alive!

“Mr. Cartwright?” She pulled her hand from his grip and regarded him with a puzzled look. “Why are you here?”

He smiled slowly. “Miss Newhart, I’m here because of you.”

She inhaled sharply and moved back a step. “Mr. Cartwri—“

“I thought you agreed to call me Adam.”

“I—I did, but you may have gotten the wrong—“

“And then, normally, you would reciprocate by inviting me to call you Darcy. Don’t you think?”

“Normally, perhaps, but this isn’t exactly normal—“

“You’re right.” He stepped closer. “There’s something special happening here. I feel it. Don’t you?”

Her eyes widened. She looked nervous, and for a moment, he wondered if he was pushing her too fast. Her agitated state could be caused by desire or by fear.

She moistened her lips. “I…”

“Is that a yes?” He touched her neck.

“I—” Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and she licked her lips again. “I don’t think it’s wise for us to—I mean, I’m the director.”

“Then, direct me.” He curled his hand around the back of her neck. Her hair was soft against his skin. “Tell me what to do.” God, he wanted to kiss her. But was he pushing too fast? Just a peek into her mind, that’s all it would take. Just a peek.

It was so easy. His invasion swept in like a breeze, and her mind simply unfurled like a dazzling white sail. He caressed her thoughts. She was warm with desire. Desire for him. Apollo, the sun god.

He pulled back, surprised. She thought he was like a god? Holy performance anxiety, that was a tough image to live up to.

Her face flushed. She looked so hot and delicious, he shoved all his doubts away. She did desire him. He’d felt it in her mind. And that was enough to make him feel as powerful as any man-made god.

Her eyes flickered shut. “I can’t…”

“You can’t kiss me?” He touched his lips lightly on the corner of her mouth.

A tremor skittered down her body. “I can’t… resist.” She grabbed his shoulders.

Wow, she did want him. He planted his mouth firmly on hers, plying and molding her lips with his own. he pulled her tight, and her hands delved into his hair, tugging him closer.

He invaded her mouth. Jesus, she let him in. She was feeling this, too, this powerful hunger. How could two relative strangers be so damned desperate for each other? It was more than physical desire; it was a hunger from the soul.

Her tongue entwined with his, leaving the faint taste of chocolate. Oh, she was sweet. Sweet all over. His hands skimmed down her back and encircled her waist. He pulled her forward against his erection. With a moan, she melted against him.

He nibbled kisses down her throat, then back up to her ear. His hands spread over her rump, pressing into her skin and grinding her hips against his groin.

“Darcy,” he whispered in her ear. “I knew it. The minute I saw you. I knew we belonged together.”

Her hands clutched his shoulders, then with a painful groan, she pushed him away. “No!”

He stepped back. “What? What’s wrong?”

Breathing heavily, she crossed her arms. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry.”

Her face crumpled. “I can’t. I can’t let this happen.”

“Sweetheart, it already has.”

“No!” She took a deep, shaky breath, and her face cleared into a stony mask. “We have to keep this professional. I need this job.”

“I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. I would never harm you in any way.”

She shook her head, hugging herself tighter.

“Darcy, if you need anything, please tell me. I could help you.”

She remained silent, frowning as if she was engaged in a private struggle. Finally, she spoke. “If you truly wish to help, you’ll agree to be in the show.”

“Fine, I’ll do it.” He grabbed a pen off her desk and signed the contract. Risking puncture wounds or death was worth it. “I mean it, Darcy. If you’re in trouble, if any… thing is threatening you or frightening you, I want you to let me know.”

She swallowed. “I’m fine.”

She wasn’t fine. She was a mortal living among vampires. He needed to gain her trust so she would confide in him.

“I’m conducting more auditions in a few minutes. I need some time to prepare.”

She wanted him to leave. Sensitive guy that he was, he could take a hint. “Maybe we can meet later for a cup of coffee.”

Her smile was resigned and weary. “I appreciate that, but I have no idea how long these auditions will take.”

“Tomorrow night?”

She straightened the papers on her desk. Though she tried to conceal it, the trembling of the papers gave proof that her hands were shaky. “I have more auditions tomorrow.”

“Saturday night?” He had no pride.

“I have a wedding to go to.”

“Not yours, I hope.”