“Before you go—” Willard lifted a hand, “—have you heard about a vampire attack?”
“In Fremont? Yeah.”
She frowned. “In Lake City. A car dealership was broken into and an employee was found dead with fang marks in his neck.”
“Dead? I thought vampires usually take what they need and leave their victims alive.”
“Not this time.”
“When did this happen?”
“Last night.”
“It could be the same vampire that attacked the psychic’s daughter in Fremont.” I summed up what I’d learned from Dimitri’s neighbor.
“I sent an agent out to look at the body at the dealership, so hopefully, I’ll have more information soon. I was going to send you out until you said you have this new gig.”
“I may end up involved in the vampire case anyway if it has something to do with Zoltan’s disappearance.”
“Are you working around the clock for Weber?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’m accompanying him to the yacht club tonight.” I grimaced. “In a dress.”
“A dress? Do you know how to put one on?”
“Is it complicated? How many holes are there?”
“It’s the straps you have to worry about.” Willard waved me to the door. “Let me know if your dragon wants a job hunting down vampires. I assume he’s not going with you to the yacht club.”
“I didn’t invite him. He doesn’t like my new employer.”
“Because he’s jealous of another man spending time with you?”
“Because he doesn’t like anyone.”
“Except you.”
“I feed him fast food. What’s not to adore?”
10
As I drove across town with Amber, I worried I should be investigating the car dealership murder or questioning people in the magical community about Zoltan rather than going shopping. Maybe this had been a mistake.
That feeling intensified when I pulled into the parking garage for the fancy mall Amber had recommended. As soon as I saw signs for Neiman Marcus, Gucci, and Louis Vuitton, I knew I was out of my element and nothing good would come out of this trip. But we were here, and I needed at least one dress. I’d get in and out quickly and return to work.
We bypassed the valet to self-park among the BMWs, Mercedes, and Land Rovers filling the stalls. I pulled in next to a spotless black Hummer taking up two spaces in the back of the garage—it had probably never been on a street with potholes, much less taken off-road.
“Thank God.” Amber flung open the door and slid out. “That was horrible.”
“What, you didn’t like my music?”
“Eighties metal by guys with hair longer than mine is horrific, but I meant the lack of AC.”
“The air-conditioning was on.”
“If you say so. Dad’s car lets you set the temp for your own zone. And has butt coolers.”
“Butt coolers?” I’d heard of butt warmers, but butt coolers were new to me. As we headed for the shops, I imagined how surprised Zav would be if either came on while he was sitting in a car.
“You know, modern tech. From this century. I’m surprised you have automatic windows.”
“They’re easier for my tiger to roll down that way. Pets riding in the back seat had a rough life back in ye olden days.” Since Sindari wasn’t around, I didn’t worry about offending him by lumping him with pets.
“Don’t talk about your tiger in the store, please. That’s weird.”
“Can I talk about dragons?”
“No.”
“The girl at the drive-thru last night was impressed by Zav.”
The look Amber gave me promised she was already having second thoughts about appearing in public with me, so I refrained from further comments.
She squinted at me. “Are you kickin’ it with him, or what?”
The first thing that came to mind was playing soccer with Zav. That probably wasn’t what she was asking.
“Does that mean hanging out? Or having sex?”
“Sex, Val.” Her squint turned into an eye roll. Amazing how she could do both at the same time.
“We’re not kickin’ it, no. We’ve just been working on some assignments together.”
“At the drive-thru?”
“Dragons get hungry.”
We’d reached the front doors of a boutique shop Amber had angled us toward, and two women walked out in time to hear that. They gave me a who-let-the-riff-raff-in look and hustled away with their shopping bags.
Amber flung her hand dramatically up to cover her face as I held the door open for her. With her cheeks visibly pink, she led me inside, veering quickly off the main aisle and toward dresses in the back.
I lifted a hand, wanting to drag a salesperson over to get this taken care of as quickly as possible, but Amber hurried back and grabbed my arm.
“They’re on commission,” she whispered. “You can’t trust them. That’s why you’ve got me.”
I had a feeling Amber didn’t trust anyone over eighteen, but I let her steer me to the back where she went to work with the methodical precision of a soldier disassembling her firearm for a cleaning.
As she held up dresses and compared them to matching accessories—ugh, I hadn’t budgeted for accessories—I poked at flimsy material and fingered straps, imagining how quickly the garments would be destroyed in a fight. If I had to tussle with werewolves at the yacht club, I’d end up naked save for my undies and weapons. What would the dress-code police think of that?
Someone with a magical aura came into my range, and my head came up like that of a zebra on the Serengeti. It was a shifter, and it—she—had come in through a side door.
I spotted her right away, a buxom raven-haired woman in slinky clothing that had come off the racks here. A frequent client? An employee? She was looking right at me with dark brown eyes that reminded me more of an animal than a person, and there was a feral curl to her lips. She wasn’t a werewolf though. A bear? Her aura had a faint ursine tinge, but I didn’t run into many bear shifters, especially not in the middle of the city, so I wasn’t positive.
“What do you think of this?” Amber held up a dress, silk scarf, and some shoes she’d paired with them.
Keeping my gaze on the shifter, I barely looked. “Is there a slit in the leg?”
The woman strolled past the two employees—they didn’t bat an eye, so maybe the shifter did work here—and weaved through the displays toward us.
“No. You’re not even looking.” Amber frowned at me. “Why do you need a slit?”
“So I can reach my gun without hiking up my skirt and showing the entire yacht club my underwear.” I didn’t bother to lower my voice. Let the shifter know I had weapons. She could probably see them anyway—the magical usually could.
“That’s next-level cringe, Val.” Still frowning, Amber turned toward the newcomer. She opened her mouth, probably to tell me that guns—along with tigers and dragons—shouldn’t be discussed in public, but maybe she could sense the shifter’s magic, for she closed her mouth again.
The shifter stopped in front of me, eyeing my sword hilt poking over my shoulder. The other two women stopped their conversation and looked over.
“We’re not interested in your business,” the shifter said.
“Because you don’t think I can pay or because my boots don’t match my belt?” I asked.
“Because you’re the Ruin Bringer.”
“Her belt is gauche too,” one of the saleswomen said.
Her colleague elbowed her.
Amber flicked her fingers toward the shifter. “Run along, or we’re going to Neiman Marcus.”
“If you’re the one hunting vampires,” the shifter said, not acknowledging Amber, “you’ll find a lot of impediments to your shopping trip.” Her eyes hardened. “And your life.”
“You’re tight with vampires, are you?”
“Don’t make a scene,” Amber whispered, trying to grab my arm and lead me out of the store.
But I resisted the pull and lifted a hand. This woman might know something relevant to my vampire problems.
“The magical community is tight with each other.” She waved a cell phone. “I could have special security here to deal with you in seconds.”
I wondered what app summoned special security. “What makes you think I’m hunting vampires? And what vampires are being hunted? I only know of one who’s gone missing.”
“Charles, Estefan, and Zoltan have all disappeared. Don’t pretend you aren’t involved in it.”
“Why the anguish over Zoltan?” I hadn’t thought he ever left his lab, much less had connections in the community. I made a quick note in my phone so I wouldn’t forget the other two names.
“He makes my anti-aging tinctures.”
“Your wrinkle cream? No wonder you’re stricken.”
She growled. It was a very unladylike growl but a very bear-like growl.
“I’m not the one picking on vampires,” I said. “From what I’ve heard, at least one of them has been attacking people.”
“You better check your sources. Whoever hired you to kidnap vampires lied.”
“My sources can’t be any worse than yours if you think I’m the one kidnapping people.”
Amber poked me in the arm and pointed at two security guards that had come through the door. They weren’t magical, so I doubted they were the special forces the shifter had mentioned, but I didn’t want to start a fight in a clothing store.
“I really think Neiman Marcus is going to be more your style.” Amber had put away all the selections she’d pulled out for me.
“Do they have dresses with slits there?”
“I’m positive.”
“A lot of women use Zoltan’s tinctures,” the shifter warned me as we maneuvered toward the door. “You’ll find yourself bathing in enemies once the word gets out.”