A Girls Guide to Vampires(36)

"What's the game plan, Rox?"

"Tarot card readings, Kirlian aura photos, palm and rune-stone readings—Arielle is doing those since their palm/ rune-stone reader left—spells and incantations…"

"It sounds like one of those psychic fairs they set up down at the bingo hall," I protested.

"This is better. The GothFaire is run by real vampires, so you know everyone working for them must be the real thing, too."

"Why settle for imitation vampires when you can have the real thing?" I teased, looking to Christian for sympathy. He just shrugged.

I ignored Roxy's frown. "OK, let's start at the top of your list. Who's doing the tarot card readings?"

"Tanya."

"Thanks for warning me. I'll stay away from that booth. What about the aura photos?"

"Done by a couple named Reynaldo and Demeter," she answered, reading the fair pamphlet that was pushed in our hands after we paid the admittance fee. "Bet Reynaldo's a vampire. Oh, this sounds interesting! There's a woman who does past-life regressions. At eight, Dominic is doing his Magique Macabre show, and then at ten, the music starts. Tonight there's two bands—Six Inches of Slime is first, followed at eleven-thirty by a local band named Rychlovka." She looked up at Christian. "What's that mean?"

He choked.

"That bad, huh?"

"I fear so."

"Really?" I asked as Christian grabbed my elbow and steered me around a group of teenagers dripping in narrow chains, clunky shoes, and more black vinyl than you could shake a stick at. "Is it a swear word? If I get really annoyed with Roxy, can I snap out 'rychlovka' at her?"

He laughed. "It is not a word of swearing, no. It means to engage in a quick sexual act."

"Rats. I guess I'll just have to make do with do prdele"

He choked again. I grinned and looked when Roxy pointed to a small black tent with a crowd gathered around it. "What's over there?"

The crowd parted as we approached. One of the vinyl-clad teens was doubled over a bucket. I glanced up to a sign hanging on the tent behind them. "Piercings. Remind me to avoid this tent."

"You and me both, sister," Roxy said with a dark look at the ralphing teen. She turned her attention back to the pamphlet. "Hey, this sounds like it'll be right up our alley—a Dungeon Room! Interesting, huh?"

I made a face at her suggestion and continued what I'd been doing ever since we had arrived—scanning the crowds for a tall, handsome man with unnatural amber eyes, and what I feared were even more unnatural dining habits.

"Dungeons, I have found," Christian spoke up in a voice that was as smooth as milk chocolate, "do not in general meet the expectations one has of them. What do you suppose is the attraction in this particular dungeon room?"

"Um… let me see if it tells." Roxy flipped over the pamphlet. "It just says 'Enter the Shadoworld and fulfill your dark destiny.' What do you think that means?"

I stopped peering around the crowds long enough to grin at her. "I think it means you'd better stay away from it unless you want to experience the sting of the lash on your tender little flesh."

"You have bondage on the brain." She tucked the flyer away and clutched Christian's arm, giving him one of her impish grins. "I bet Christian isn't afraid of a little dark destiny. You'll go with me to the dungeon room, won't you? Joy, as you can plainly see, is too much of a poop to have a little fun in a dungeon."

"Sure, go ahead." I shooed them toward the blood-red tent that loomed ahead of us. "I'll go have Arielle read the runes for me while you're frolicking in the Merry Widow."

Roxy rolled her eyes and pulled Christian toward the red tent. "That's Iron Maiden."

"I will not frolic in an Iron Maiden," Christian protested. "In it there will be no room for the dancing or the Maypole."

Roxy stopped and stared at him for a minute. I giggled. He smiled.

She turned back to me. "Just remember that you can't let Raphael take the third step of Joining until I'm there to watch."

"The third step?" What was she talking about? "What happened to the second step?"

She dropped Christian's hand and with a big, exaggerated sigh hurried over to where I stood, counting on her fingers as she said, "The first step is the mark, right?"

"Right. You say that's the visions."

"And who knows Dante's books better than anyone else on this whole planet?"

"You do," I acknowledged.

"Right. Trust me, the visions are his mark, the first step. The second step is—"

"Protection from afar."