The Vampire and the Prince of Roses (Dreadful Vampire Mysteries Book 2) Page 3

  Pita groaned. “I hated that movie.”

  “We all hated that movie,” I added.

  One of the other girls – a tall redhead – broke apart from the group she was hanging with and approached us. The gauzy white dress didn’t look good on her, either. Her lip curled in disgust as she eyed me. “Honey, you’ve got the perfect place for a Halloween show but do yourself a favor and bow out gracefully.”

  I looked at her, stunned. “I beg your pardon?”

  The girl flashed a condescending smile. “There are always a few girls put in the show for the express purpose of being voted out. They have zero chance of getting the guy. Their job is to show up, cry a little bit, and then leave. Sometimes things get messy, though, because… well, because those girls don’t realize what their job is.” She stepped closer. “Don’t make things messy.”

  “You want messy, Red?” Paige asked. She bared her fangs and hissed.

  The girl’s pale skin became even paler and she quickly retreated back to the safety of her friends.

  Thankfully, Denise was too busy talking on her always-present earpiece to notice the altercation. “10-4,” she said, almost under her breath. She looked at me. “They’re ready. You’re on.”

  “Wish me luck,” I said.

  “Good luck,” Paige, Pita, Broomhilda, and Anthony said in unison, offering quick hugs before I turned towards the Dreadful Inn. It was my home, and I loved it, but it was the scariest place in the world right now, all because of the man standing in front of the porch, the man I had to pretend to be interested in or face the wrath of Granny Mags.

  “It’s showtime,” I whispered to myself, forcing my feet to move.

  It was a strange thing. Walking with the knowledge that numerous cameras were aimed in my direction, recording my every move. All of a sudden, I wasn’t sure I could do something that I had been doing all my life.

  I tried to remain calm, putting one foot in front of the other, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t figure out what to do with my arms. Letting them swing at my sides didn’t seem quite right but anything else seemed equally as awkward. It didn’t help that a fan had been positioned halfway between the cemetery and the Inn, making my hair blow across my face as my dress snapped like a ship’s sail in a storm.

  I held the obscenely low-cut neckline of my dress closed with one hand to avoid any embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions while using the other to brush my long auburn hair from my face, and then, before I knew it, I was standing in front of Jet.

  “Hi,” I said, awkwardly.

  “Hi,” Jet said, smiling. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Jet’s eyes dropped down to my cleavage and a creepy smile formed on his face. “Yes, you most definitely are.”

  Yeah. Nothing awkward about this at all. “I’m Penny, by the way.”

  Jet continued to stare at my chest, nodding absently. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a cameraman recording our whole awkward encounter.

  “Well,” I said, tired of being leered at, “I guess I’ll just go inside now.”

  Jet nodded, his eyes never rising up to my face. “Sounds like a plan, Peggy. I’m looking forward to seeing more of you.”

  “It’s Penny,” I corrected.

  Jet nodded. “Of course it is. Have some wine, loosen up, and maybe we can have a little fun later.” He winked at my chest.

  I had already decided I couldn’t stand Jet but he had a great idea. A drink sounded marvelous. Two – maybe three or four – sounded even better.

  Without saying another word to the supposed prince, I quickly made my way up the steps and into the Inn. As I turned to close the door, I saw the next girl crossing the road, appearing out of the fog like a specter in white, a gentle breeze blowing her hair and dress.

  Okay, it was a cool visual. But the dresses were still ugly.

  Chapter 5

  As I sipped my second glass of wine, I decided being on a reality television show was like watching a reality television show – it’s more fun when alcohol is involved.

  Most of the girls had made their way over and were now pairing off into their little cliques, eyeing the competition over their glasses of wine.

  Peter Vincent flew down and landed on my shoulder. “I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.”

  “I thought you weren’t thrilled about all these people being around,” I said.

  “Oh, I’m not but I think it might be fate sending a message.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, intrigued. “What’s the message?”

  Peter Vincent stood tall – all six inches of him – and puffed out his chest. “I believe I’m destined to be a star.”

  I laughed in the middle of taking a sip, shooting wine out my nose. FYI. Don’t do that. It doesn’t feel good. One of the girls looked over at me, her lip curling in disgust when she saw the little fruit bat on my shoulder. I let my eyes flash a little red as I stared her down. She quickly lost interest.

  “And why do you think you’re destined to be a star?” I asked.

  “It’s new uncharted territory,” Peter Vincent said excitedly. “Flipper satisfied the dolphin demographic, Mr. Ed satisfied the horse lovers, and of course Lassie is the ultimate canine hero… but there’s been no bat star. I believe the world is ready for one now.”

  While I tried to figure out a way to gently let Peter Vincent know the world probably wasn’t ready for a bat-centered TV show, Paige, Pita, Anthony, and Broomhilda made their way through the crowd towards me. None of them looked happy.

  “We have a problem,” Pita said softly.

  “What?”

  “Remember the mouthy redhead from the cemetery?”

  I nodded. “Kind of hard to forget someone so sweet and friendly,” I said, unable to keep the sarcastic tone out of my voice.

  Pita sighed. “Well, she’s standing next to me right now.”

  I looked at the empty air next to Pita.

  Crap.

  A loud scream pierced the night, coming from across the street.

  Double crap.

  “That’s probably someone discovering the body,” Paige said, the scream still shattering the night with its shrillness.

  “What the heck is all that screaming?” Granny Mags shouted from the second floor, her cane clumping along the floor as she made her way to the stairs, looking down at us. “Did someone die?”

  “Yes,” Pita said, exasperated. “And her ghost is right here so be nice.”

  Granny blinked, momentarily stunned, but she shook it off in record time. “Two deaths in just a couple of months? This place might be more interesting than I thought.” She turned and headed back to her room. “Tell everyone to keep it down. Old people need their rest.”

  Stopping for just a second, Granny looked back down at us. She glanced at me and made a face. “Are all you girls wearing the same dress?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked at Pita. “Tell your new friend I’m sorry she had to die in such an ugly dress.”

  With those parting words, Granny Mags continued on to her room.

  “Believe it or not,” Pita said to the ghost, “that’s Granny’s way of being nice.” She looked at the empty space next her and shook her head. “No, it really doesn’t look bad at all.” She glanced at me and made a face.

  For just a second, I felt sorry for the girl. She had been rude to me but nobody deserved to go through all eternity dressed like that.

  “What do we do,” Paige asked, bringing us back to the emergency at hand. “Should we go see?”

  “It’s across the street from our property… with all our guests out there,” I said. “That means we’ll have to talk to someone sooner or later. Might as well find out what we can.”

  “I’ll go with you, in case you need protection,” Peter Vincent said.

  Smiling, I kissed the little fruit bat on the top of his head. “Thank you, Peter Vincent. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” His little fangs sparkled as he sm
iled back.

  The rest of the girls – who I had recently decided to call Bimbettes because Rosettes was stupid – had already given in to curiosity so we were at the back of the pack, which suited me just fine. I had no desire to get wrapped up in another murder mystery. Still, I couldn’t help but be curious.

  “What’s her name,” I asked Pita.

  “Regina. She’s been trying to get on Prince of Roses for years. Christina showing up on her doorstep was the happiest day of her life.”

  I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She finally had her wish come true, and then this had to happen. Sometimes life wasn’t fair. Hopefully, Alec would be able to catch her murderer and bring him to justice.

  “I don’t suppose she saw who killed her.” I knew it was a long shot but no harm in asking.

  Pita shook her head. “I already asked her that. She didn’t see who did it.”

  “What was she doing right before she died?”

  Pita listened to the voice only she could hear for a couple of minutes and then relayed the information. “She was getting ready to cross the street. She was super-excited because Christina had just come over to wish her luck. She saw the rose laying near a gravestone and thought it looked pretty so she picked it up, thinking that wearing it might help her stand out in Jet’s eyes. She thought a bug bit her because she felt a sting on the back of her neck, and then she was suddenly tired.”

  Pita wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “Cold and tired. Those were the last things she remembers feeling.”

  We made our way back through the cemetery, bits of Broomhilda’s fog still clinging to the ground. A crowd had gathered around one of the graves, with everyone talking all at once. A few of the girls were crying and more than one asked about going home. Christina’s loud voice broke through the chatter.

  “Everyone calm down,” the reality show hostess said. “Just stay back and don’t touch anything. The police will be here any minute and then we can go back to filming.”

  I worked my way through the crowd until I was close enough to see the scene within the loose circle of people. Regina’s body was lying on a grave, her head towards the gravestone, her arms folded across her chest, a single red rose clutched in her hands. I looked up at Christina.

  “Get back to filming?” I asked. “A girl just died.”

  “Yes,” Christina said. Her bottom lip quivered just a bit but then she stuck her chin out and straightened her shoulders, her eyes as chilly as ice. “But she hadn’t had any screen time yet so no editing needs to be done. No worries.”

  “No worries?” I took a step towards the hostess, letting my fangs extend. I was about to give her plenty to worry about.

  A hand grabbed my arm. I turned, letting my eyes flash red in warning. Paige stared back, her pale blue eyes filled with concern, her grip firm.

  “Cameras,” Paige whispered. “And witnesses. Calm down.”

  “I can still do something,” Peter Vincent squeaked. “Just say the word and I’ll go for her nose.” He danced back and forth on my shoulder from one tiny foot to the other. “Oh, how I wish I had rabies. I’d show her who the boss is.”

  Red and blue lights suddenly chased away the darkness as the sheriff’s truck climbed the hill, a Transylvaniatown police car right behind him.

  Slowly, I retracted my fangs, nodding at Paige. “Thanks.”

  She nodded back. “That’s what sisters do. Keep each other out of trouble.”

  I nuzzled Peter Vincent’s soft fur. “Relax, big guy. The police are here and I’d hate to see you get locked up for assaulting a nose.”

  “I’d hate that, too,” Peter Vincent agreed. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at Christina. “She’s lucky.”

  “Everyone stand back,” a voice shouted over the crowd as Sheriff Alec Grayson and Deputy Jack Pierce made their way through. Deputy Pierce led the way, one arm outstretched, forcing the sea of people to part for them, a bulky silver case in his other hand.

  Pierce was a good cop who really enjoyed indulging his sweet tooth, judging by the slight paunch around his middle, and his face was the type that always seemed about to break into a smile. Except for right now. No, right now the deputy was sternly but politely clearing the way for his boss, probably not thrilled to have another murder on their hands so soon after the last one.

  Alec walked a few feet behind his deputy, his sharp blue eyes scanning the crowd, looking for anything or anyone who might seem suspicious. I could see shock on his face when he spotted me, and then his eyes dropped down a bit. He stared for several seconds, as if mesmerized.

  I dropped my gaze to see what he was looking at and felt my cheeks heat up. I had forgotten all about the stupid dress I was wearing. The stupid dress with the plunging neckline. For just a second, I had to resist the urge to dig a hole and crawl in.

  With what appeared to be supernatural strength, Alec eventually managed to pull his eyes back up to my face, a cocky, lopsided grin appearing for just a second before his serious ‘sheriff face’ was back in place. “You seem to have a habit of turning up at murder scenes, Ms. Dreadful.”

  “Couldn’t be helped, Sheriff, considering the location.”

  Alec nodded, his eyes intent, as if trying to look inside me. Those deep blue eyes made my insides turn to jelly and I could feel a warm blush crawling up my neck. But that warm blush was accompanied by a cold chill running down my spine.

  Did he think I had something to do with this murder? Surely not. It wasn’t my fault that Anthony was at the scene of the first murder the sheriff was involved with in Transylvaniatown, or that a second murder had happened right across from the Dreadful Inn.

  “Sheriff,” Christina snapped, “I’d like to get this taken care of as soon as possible so I’d appreciate it if you could stop gawking at the innkeeper for a little while.”

  Alec arched an eyebrow but that was the only indication he gave that he was surprised by the woman’s outburst. He turned and looked at Christina. “And you are?”

  Christina chuckled. “I don’t look familiar?”

  Alec shook his head. “No ma’am.”

  Christina sighed. “I guess that shouldn’t be a surprise. You’re not really in the demographic the show caters to.” Her eyes roamed up and down Alec’s body and I had to fight the urge to extend my fangs.

  The reality show hostess grinned as her eyes slowly crawled over the sheriff. “But that demographic would really love you, Sheriff.”

  Alec cleared his throat, a slight pink tinge on his cheeks, but he held his ground, never breaking eye contact.

  Christina sighed. “I’m Christina Harrison, the hostess of Prince of Roses. We’re filming the Halloween special here.”

  “Well, ma’am, this is the scene of a crime. Possibly a murder. Chances are that ‘as soon as possible’ won’t be as quick as you’d like.”

  Christina glanced down – just for a second – at the body before quickly returning her gaze to the sheriff. “Murder? It looks like she died peacefully. Almost as if she simply laid down and fell asleep.”

  Alec nodded, his expression determined. “Yes ma’am. But we won’t know for sure until we examine the scene, and for that, we need everyone to give us room so that nothing gets contaminated.” He glanced at his deputy. “Pierce, rope off this entire area with crime scene tape. We need to keep as much of the area as intact as possible.”

  “Yes, sir.” He removed a roll of bright yellow tape from the silver case and began to politely make people move back further as he used the tape to create a large square around the crime scene.

  Another set of colorful lights washed over the scene as a car that looked a lot like the white hearse in the Ghostbusters movies came up the drive. The ambulance and medical examiner had arrived. It wouldn’t be long before the body would be removed. I needed to see what I could see before I lost the opportunity.

  I looked closely at the prone form on the ground, opening all my vampire senses, hoping to detect something. Anyt
hing. Unfortunately, supernatural sight, sound, and smell didn’t reveal anything new. Christina was right. It looked like Regina had just laid down to take a nap. On a grave. Holding a rose. Nothing odd about that at all.

  “Pretty girl,” a voice said beside me, coming from just above my elbow.

  I jumped, startled. Granny Mags stood beside me, her four-foot frame, covered in a navy blue bathrobe, all but invisible in the dark. She looked at the murder victim. “Pretty girl. Ugly dress. Dramatic killer.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean,” I asked.

  Granny rolled her eyes. “I’m going to assume you know what I mean by pretty girl and ugly dress so I’ll skip to the dramatic killer part.” She gestured to the rose. “The flower in her hands, the whole serene pose. Even the headstone. Look at it.”

  I looked, trying – and failing – to see what Granny saw. I shook my head. “I don’t see it.”

  Granny sighed deeply, as if disappointed because I had failed a lesson or something. “She has eyes but she does not see.” She gestured towards the rose again. “Look again. Don’t see shapes. Look at the colors.”

  I looked, and gasped, surprised I hadn’t noticed before. “The red rose on the white dress. If you just glance at it, just look at the colors, it almost looks like blood.”

  Granny nodded. “Blood on the chest of a girl dressed like a bride of Dracula, as if she’d been staked.” She shuddered. “I hated that movie.”

  “We all hated that movie,” Pita said as her, Paige, Broomhilda, and Anthony joined us.

  “And the gravestone?” I asked. Alec was walking towards us, which meant show-and-tell was probably about to be over.

  “It’s one of the older graves,” Granny said. “The stone is almost worn smooth. No name, no dates, no competition to distract from the body.”

  That seemed like a stretch, but it also made a sort of sense. Nothing in the news would say a body was found on the grave of Mr. or Mrs. So-and-so. Any news about this would simply say a body was found on an unmarked grave, leaving the attention on the victim. Nice and tidy, just like the crime scene itself.