Netherworld: Drop Dead Sexy(56)

“Oh.” Still feeling warm. I wondered if Dan would have done the same, had he been able to. I thought he might. Oh boy, I had issues. “Thank you.”





Tristan smiled at me. “It was my idea, but I have to be honest and admit Patricia will handle most of the details. She’s much better with these sorts of things.”

That was okay. Happy, warm, fuzzy feeling didn’t diminished one bit. Tristan was an important man who no doubt delegated a lot of duties to his staff.

I turned my attention to his sister. She gave me a kind smile. Again it struck me how different her persona as a ghost differed from when she was a vampire.

Patricia asked, “Is there something special you’d like done or said at your service? Any particular branch of religion you want to perform the rites?”

I shook my head. “My family is Episcopalian, but I always believed God wasn’t terribly particular about the flavor of worship. Keep it simple. No one is going to show up anyway.”

I dropped my eyes, but I caught the flash of sympathy that crossed her face. I refused to get upset. I refused to cry. No do-overs. I swore to be fine with that.

Tristan’s hands suddenly tightened on mine, and I looked up to see him and Patricia standing stiff, as if they’d been electrified. They both stared into space as if they’d just seen – well, a ghost.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. I couldn’t see what had made them react so strongly. They stared in different directions.

Dan pulled me back, gently freeing me from Tristan’s grasp. “It’s nightfall. Their bodies are calling them to return.

I watched wide eyed as Tristan and Patricia slowly faded, their bodies becoming insubstantial, much like the wraiths Dan had turned Erica’s goons into. In a few seconds, they were completely gone.

“They’ve returned to their bodies,” Dan told me. “I’d like to see what those FBI agents have to say to Tristan. Want to go down to the ballroom and see what’s up with the vampire world?”

So that’s what we did.

* * * *

Upon entering the ballroom, or as I was beginning to think of it, Para Central, I noticed right away no vampires were present. The room contained only weres and a couple of gargoyles, with the exception of Lana and Augustus. The two non-shifters huddled deep in conversation with Eddie the werehog and Gerald the werepanther. Seeing Augustus again thrilled me. Griffins are so darn cool in person.

“No sign of Tristan,” I commented as we walked down the center aisle where Lana and Augustus waited next to the head honchos’ desks.

“He’ll be a little while yet. Vampires wake up hungry.” Dan paused here and there, taking time to peer at computer readouts and soak in a little energy from the equipment. I took a small hit of power myself, quitting as soon as my fingertips started to tingle.

Dan’s comment bothered me a little. “Does he, um, take directly from people, or does he drink the packaged stuff?”





Bottled blood fed the majority of vampires since many humans had the same prejudices against them that I did. Offering yourself to the bloodsuckers wasn’t illegal, but most mortals of good breeding frowned on it. Not to mention vampires had been known to lose control and kill their donors. Still, some vampires attracted blood groupies despite the bias and danger. The most popular bloodsuckers were rock and rap musicians, along with movie stars.

Blood Potion No. 9 was the biggest seller among vamps when they couldn’t find blood groupies. Certified to be free of disease and impurities, the parent company collected blood from paid donors who went through rigorous medical testing. Not that vampires caught blood-borne illnesses from the living. It’s the same idea of drinking spring water from a bottle when what comes out of the tap is perfectly fine. Vamps could get cheaper bags of blood from the convenience and grocery stores, but the black-bottled Blood Potion No. 9 brand was the number one seller by far. It outsold everything else even before the recent rash of blood pouches tainted with lethal dragon blood had led to a dozen vampire deaths across the southeast United States. Chalk one up for great marketing.

Dan snorted at the thought of the county commissioner guzzling his sustenance from a bottle. “Tristan has no lack of donors willing to feed him fresh from the spring.”

So even a small-town politician rated live bleeders. How interesting. And gross. “A poetic way of putting it. Does it taste better to them that way?”

Dan’s smile was indulgent bordering on condescending. I thought about smacking him on general principles. “Drinking blood directly from the source isn’t something vampires talk about much. It’s like asking you for a detailed account of your sexual encounters, so yes, I’d say it’s much better to bite into a human than sipping blood from a pouch or bottle.”