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Real Vampires Don't Wear Size Six(48)

By:Gerry Bartlett

"Hah! You are barking up the wrong tree stump here, you creatures from the black lagoon! You monsters from the depths of wherever!" Flo clutched me to her bosom, so overwrought she wrinkled her dress. "You cannot have my BFF. Go back where you came from. Roast your skinny asses somewhere else." Flo's eyes were shining and she actually stomped her foot, her metal shoe rattling.
"Now, Florence, is that any way to talk to someone who could make your own dreams come true?" Caryon's voice was smooth as butter melting over a stack of pancakes.
I eased away from Flo and looked into her eyes. "Careful now, Flo. Don't listen to him. He's going to give you his sales pitch." I gasped when I felt a sucker punch in the stomach. I looked down. Nothing there, but Spyte blew on his fist, like maybe he'd done it with the power of his thoughts. As if a little pain could stop me. But he sent me a mental message to watch my mouth or I could be a statue in a heartbeat. Okay, I got that.
"Sales pitch? I have resisted the best saleswomen in the world, you dung-heap dweller!" Flo stalked up to Caryon and had the nerve to poke him in his chest with a copper-lacquered nail. "I have listened to them claim I looked good in chiffon poofs. Hah! You think I didn't know better? Poofs on my butt? ‘Try them,' they said. ‘Exquisite.' Unloading last year's rejects. I see through that. And I see through you."
"But I see through you, dear lady." Caryon ignored Flo's finger stabbing and grinned at me. "Such spirit. Such fire. She will soon be Lucifer's favorite."
I started to say something but Spyte hit me again, a real stomach burner, and I gasped, breathless and speechless.
"Oh, yes, all your dreams will come true, dear lady." Caryon sighed. "Just think for a minute."
"What are you talking about? I have everything I ever dreamed of. A wonderful husband, a new house with the most magnificent closet-" Flo grabbed my arm. "Glory, I didn't tell you. While we were gone, Ricardo had the bedroom next to the master made into this closet. It is a dream. All organized and filled with my things. Magnifico!"
"Yes, Glory, you really should see it." Spyte danced around the room, finally landing right in front of Flo. "It even has a three-way mirror at one end. So the lady of the house can see herself from every angle." He pulled a face. "Except the designer didn't know that this lady can't see a damned thing, can she, Florence?"
"What a shame." Caryon studied the polish on his brown wingtip shoes. His suit was a cream silk, his tie a brown, peach and silver work of art. "And that meant you left the house tonight with a thread dangling loose on the back of your skirt."
"No!" Flo twisted, trying to see what Cary was talking about. "Glory, look, is there . . . ?"
"How do you know what's in her house?" Suddenly I was allowed to speak.
"Basic research, Glory dear." Cary inspected his perfectly manicured nails. "I can describe the homes of all of your nearest and dearest. Right down to whether their toilet paper rolls over or under."
"Glory, please. Is there a thread?" Flo grabbed my arm.
This time my stomach heaved without Spyte's help. Demons spying on all my friends? Flo's nails dug into my skin so I glanced and, sure enough, a thread stuck out from the center back seam.
"Yes." I sighed. "Sorry, Flo. I can't pull it or it might damage the fabric, make it pucker."
"I am not perfetto!" Her eyes filled.
"Of course you're not. How can you be when you can't ever see the total picture?" Caryon smiled, never letting his true ugly nature show. "Look at me. I'm wearing a custom-tailored Italian suit. My suit, my tie, every part of my outfit is perfectly fitted and coordinated. And, of course, my hair is just right. I hate to tell you, but the back of your updo is a giant don't." This time his smile showed just a hint of fang.
"What? Glory?" Flo put frantic fingers to the back of her hair.
"Okay, Cary, cut it out. When she got here, her hair was fine. You obviously messed with it." I could see that, yes, he'd done a number on her hair, turning it into a rat's nest. "Relax, Flo, you can fix it."
"Stop torturing me." Flo's lips quivered. "I will never help a demon. I am good. My husband is a saint. There is no way I can work for the Devil. Go away."
"Of course. No problem." Spyte pointed at the full-length mirror on the back of the door and Flo shrieked.
Suddenly, she could see herself, from head to toe. "Mio Dio. Is it me, Glory?"
"Yes, Flo." I glared at Spyte. "What's up? Why are you doing this? I told you to leave my friends alone."
"And we obey you because?" Spyte laughed. "Come on, this one looks like an easy takedown."
Flo was busy with her purse, reapplying her lipstick, fussing with her eyebrows and straightening her hair. She leaned closer to inspect her skin.
"Flo, honey, step away from the mirror." I walked up behind her and grasped her shoulders.
"Look at us, Glory." She smiled at our reflections. "We are beautiful, no?"
"Yes, you are, anyway. But this is the Devil's handiwork. These guys are trying to lure you over to the dark side. What would Richard say?" I tried to pull her back but she wasn't budging and she ignored what I'd said completely.
"I think I look old. Do you have any idea how many hundreds of years it has been since I've seen myself? I had forgotten . . ." She leaned forward, peering intently at her teeth, her fangs. "This is not good. I must get some of those whitening strips, I think."
"Flo, listen to me. This is a slippery slope." I looked around but Cary and Spyte had disappeared, obviously sure that they'd laid the groundwork. I was afraid they were right.
"You must come to my house. See my new closet. After the band and the dancing." She finally dragged her eyes from the mirror. "See, the diavolos are gone. It is a little gift. I don't know why they are toying with me and I don't care. If they can see through me, they must know I am not going to do anything for them. Ever. But, in the meantime, they gave both of us a reflection. We can enjoy it and not feel guilty." She grinned and bounced on her weird metal shoes. "I am happy. We will go to my house and see ourselves in the three-way mirror. Just wait."
I followed Flo upstairs, amazed that she could chatter with the men and fool even her husband into thinking that everything was normal. Demons never did anything without expecting payback. If Flo thought she could just enjoy her reflection and not suffer for it? Well, I could tell her there was no way in hell that was happening.

It took some doing, but we got the guys settled into Richard's man cave in front of his big-screen TV and a car race before Flo and I headed upstairs to see her closet. This was the first time I'd been to Flo and Richard's new house and I was impressed. It was obviously expensive, on a hilltop with a spectacular view of the lights of the city.
"Damian found it for us. You know my brother owns houses everywhere in Austin. He sold it to Ricardo for a good price." Flo was practically running as she headed upstairs. "This is the master bedroom." She threw open double doors. A king-size bed dominated the large space. There was a terrace and balcony off the bedroom to take advantage of that view, but I could see automatic blackout drapes that would close at sunrise.
"It's gorgeous." I wasn't lying. The cream and gold room was decorated with fine antiques, and an Oriental rug covered most of the hardwood floor. My fingers itched to touch some of the lacquered boxes that rested on the long dresser, not to mention the jade and ivory carvings displayed in a tall shelving unit.
"The pretty pieces from the Orient are Ricardo's. He's collected for centuries. One of his hobbies. I had no idea when I married him that he had so much in storage." Flo threw this information over her shoulder as she hurried to another set of double doors. "There's a decadent bathroom over there with a Jacuzzi tub, steam shower, you name it, and a closet I gave to Richard." She sighed and paused for dramatic effect. "But this is mine, all mine." She threw open the doors.
My jaw dropped. What had obviously been a good-size bedroom was now a walk-in closet painted in shades of cream and turquoise. It had shelves for purses and shoes with racks for dresses, pants and blouses. A dozen drawers were closed but labeled and I could see that she had many for lingerie, scarves and belts.
Flo had made a beeline for the three-way mirror at the end of the room. It was flanked by large windows with their own blackout drapes.
"Look at me. Ah, scissors." She pulled out a shallow drawer filled with every kind of manicure accessory and found a pair of sharp scissors. "Will you cut off the thread? Carefully, of course. I have to go back to the men wearing this same dress."
"Sure. Stand still." I said this because Flo was so hyped on adrenaline, she was practically vibrating. I clipped the offending thread, then handed her the scissors. "This closet is the most amazing thing I've ever seen."
"Isn't it? You see why I love Ricardo so much? He understands me and indulges my passions." She winked at me. "All of them."
"You are very lucky." I unzipped her when she gestured for me to. "What now?"
"I've got to see myself in . . ." She began going through her racks. "Oh, which one first? My wedding dress. The most special night of my life." She blinked as tears filled her eyes. "No, what if I think I could have done better? This? I wore it to a coronation. No, no, I'd better hurry. What if they take this away?" She began flipping through dresses, becoming almost manic until she tried holding a few up in front of the mirror.