The Vampire and the Prince of Roses (Dreadful Vampire Mysteries Book 2) Page 5

  Pita nodded. “Because we’re not out of bananas. I went shopping the other day. We had plenty of bananas. Had. We’re also apparently out of mangos, apples, oranges, and pears.”

  “Oh.” I was starting to see why she brought this problem to me.

  “What did your weird little bat do with our food?” she demanded.

  “I don’t know,” I sighed. “But I will find out. Just as soon as I get this stupid rose ceremony out of the way.”

  Pita glanced to her left and nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I forgot.” She looked back at me. “Regina says something is up with Christina. She was in her room, crying, saying things like she didn’t mean for it to happen and she’d take it all back if she could.”

  “And you thought the banana thing was the thing to lead with?”

  Pita shrugged. “They’re both equally important.”

  I had a sneaking suspicion that Regina might have a different opinion but I let it slide. “Okay, I’ll check on that too. After the rose ceremony.”

  “She also says she was sorry she was mean to you,” Pita added. “She was just trying to get into character. It was for the show. Nothing personal.”

  I glanced towards the empty space where I assumed Regina’s ghost was standing. “It’s okay. I’m… I’m sorry you died.”

  “She says it’s really not that bad,” Pita said. “Although she really hates the dress.”

  I nodded, knowing how she felt. If she knew who had murdered her, she’d probably haunt them just out of spite for killing her in that outfit.

  I turned to head outside, ready to get kicked off this stupid show, only to have Paige run up on me like she was getting ready to tackle me. I braced myself, waiting for the impact. Instead of a tackle, she grabbed my arms, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises.

  “It’s your first rose ceremony,” she squealed excitedly.

  “And probably my last.” I couldn’t picture Jet keeping me around after threatening to feed him a dismembered body part.

  Paige gasped as if I had slapped her, an expression of horror on her face. “Oh no, Penny. Be optimistic. The trick is to play the drama. Don’t just stand there looking bored. Glare at some of the other girls… and say something catty about one or two of them during the diary room confession.” She grinned, her eyes flaring red with excitement. “The audience loves that kind of stuff.”

  “Diary room confession?”

  Paige rolled her eyes. “Yes. You’ll talk to the camera, talking about how wonderful Jet is and how evil some of the other girls are for trying to steal the attention of your man.”

  I held up a hand. “That man, for lack of a better word, will never in a million years be my man.”

  Paige snorted. “I know that. He’s an obnoxious, conceited ass.”

  “Then why were you hoping he was the prince of roses?” Pita asked.

  “Because he’s an obnoxious, conceited ass.” An evil grin formed on Paige’s face. “The more of a jerk the guy is, the bitchier and more competitive the women are.”

  I was confused. “That makes no sense.”

  Paige shrugged. “It’s reality TV. It’s not supposed to make sense.”

  A polite, but loud, clearing of the throat got our attention. Christina stood by the door, her fake smile still in place. “It’s your turn for the diary room, Penny. Aren’t you excited?”

  No. No, I wasn’t. More importantly, I could tell Christina wasn’t, either. She was going through the motions like a champ and that smile was still bright enough to light a dark room, but that light didn’t reach her eyes.

  I looked at Pita. “I’ll talk with Peter Vincent.” I looked at Paige. “You need serious help.” With a final nod to both of them, I headed towards the front door, stopping by Christina’s side. “Are you okay?”

  A look of shock flickered across her face, along with something else. Guilt?

  “Of course I’m okay,” Christina said, her fake laugh not fooling anybody. She motioned towards the door. “Enjoy your first diary room. Don’t be nervous and don’t hold back. Just let it all out.”

  If ‘let it all out’ and ‘don’t hold back’ meant staring into the camera as if I had never been more bored in my entire life while saying I got along with everyone, then my first – and hopefully last – diary room confession was a smashing success.

  After that bit of excitement, I walked into the front yard and joined the other ladies on the portable bleachers that had been hastily erected just for the rose ceremony. From what I had heard, they would be folded-up and put away shortly after we were done, only to be pulled back out once a week for the next rose ceremony, which I planned to be watching from the sidelines along with Broomhilda, Anthony, Paige, Pita, and… Granny Mags? Granny made it a point to come out of her room to watch the rose ceremony? Crap!

  I stared intently at her for a few seconds, trying to determine if she was planning on causing trouble but she steadfastly ignored me, not even glancing in my direction.

  Christina and Jet appeared, with Christina telling everyone what they already knew – Jet would call out names, handing out roses to everyone he wanted to keep. Those who didn’t get a rose would be done.

  While Jet did his thing, I watched Jerry the cameraman hovering in the shadows. The camera was pointed in one direction but all of Jerry’s attention was focused on the girls holding roses… or maybe just one girl. He seemed to be staring – very intently – at a blonde whose curves were almost too much for the flimsy Brides of Dracula dress to handle. I hoped she wouldn’t wind up dead somewhere, holding a rose over her ample bosom.

  “Penny!”

  My attention snapped towards Jet when he called my name. “Huh?”

  Yeah, I’m smooth.

  Jet smiled, waiting patiently as the girls standing on either side of me nudged me forward. I couldn’t tell if they were friendly nudges or attempts to knock me off the bleachers since there was only one rose left. The one currently being held in Jet’s hands. This was a mistake. There was no way this was happening.

  A blast of anger swept through me. Actually, I could think of one way for this to happen. I looked at Granny Mags. She stared back at me, appearing to be surprised as I was. Okay, she wasn’t behind this. Maybe Jet liked being threatened by strong women? I had heard some guys were into that.

  I approached Jet nervously. This was a joke. It had to be. I’d stand in front of him, he’d start to offer the rose, and then say, ‘Just kidding. Changed my mind.’

  And then I’d rip his head off and drain him of every drop of blood because nobody plays games like that with me.

  “Penny, will you accept this rose?”

  I glanced around. Was it an actual question? Could I say no? Had anyone actually declined a rose? Fan-fanging-tastic! I should’ve watched the stupid show and then I’d know these things. My sisters and Broomhilda were motioning for me to take the offered flower. Granny Mags was… well, standing there being Granny Mags, her expression completely unreadable.

  Even Christina and Jerry were harshly whispering for me to take it, with Jerry going so far as to reach forward and pluck a pretend rose from the air, just in case I wasn’t aware of the mechanics involved with it.

  I plastered a fake smile onto my face that felt so fake it almost made my face hurt. I reached for the rose. “Ummm. Sure. Thank you, Jet.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  He leaned forward, for either a hug or kiss. I didn’t know which one and I didn’t care.

  “Thanks again,” I said, quickly turning and returning to the bleachers. The girls there began shooing me away as Christina, Denise, my sisters, Broomhilda, and one of the cameramen began frantically pointing in another direction. I changed course and headed for the second, smaller group of women who were holding roses.

  To say I was welcomed with wide-open arms and endless love would have been slightly inaccurate. Okay, it would’ve been flat-out lying. The girls stared at me as if I was something that clung to their shoes afte
r stepping in it, with expressions ranging from confusion to unadulterated hostility. Apparently, they had been as convinced as I was that my time on the show was done.

  Christina once again got in front of the camera, going on about the roseless girls saying goodbye while the rest of us could retreat inside. A couple of production assistants stood just inside the front door, holding trays loaded with champagne. Almost all of the girls grabbed a glass as they passed by. That was one club I had no problem joining because I had no clue about what was going on. This was supposed to be like bad sex. In. Out. Done. Instead, it was turning into a bad relationship with someone who refused to break-up with me no matter how hard I tried to make them dislike me.

  Chapter 8

  While standing near the fireplace in the library, contemplating the meaning of life and wondering if I’d be kicked off the show if I actually sank my fangs into Jet and drank him dry, I noticed Jerry taking the wrist of one of the girls – the voluptuous blonde he had been eyeing earlier – and pulling her out the front door. Crap! The friendly unassuming cameraman was the killer and he was about to strike again.

  I started towards the door when three of the Bimbettes stepped in front of me. They were all tall, bottle-blonde, and angry-looking.

  “Who’d you roll in the hay with to stay on the show?” Bimbette #1 asked.

  I peered over her shoulder towards the door. Would it be okay to kill one person (or three) to save someone else from the clutches of a killer?

  “We heard what you did to poor Jet,” Bimbette #2 said. “You almost broke his hand.”

  Bimbette #3 stepped closer, eyeing me up and down. “Yeah, but I think that was an exaggeration. She doesn’t look that tough.”

  I returned her stare, delivering a glare that would make Granny Mags proud. “She is right here. Do you want to find out how tough she is?”

  Bimbette #3 stared at me for a few seconds more and then decided I wasn’t bluffing. She stepped back. “No,” she grumbled under her breath.

  I nodded, staring all three of them down. “Good. As far as why I’m still here, did it ever occur to any of you that Jet might be into that kind of stuff? Some guys are, you know.”

  The three Bimbettes stared at each other, shocked.

  “It’s true,” I said. “After all, I’m still here, right?” I shrugged. “Some guys like being bossed around by the ladies.” I leaned closer, looking around as if to make sure nobody else was around to hear. “As a matter of fact, just between us, putting him in his place might actually improve your chances of getting your hands on that final rose.”

  The three girls smiled and thanked me. No doubt about it. This was going to be one of the more interesting seasons of Prince of Roses.

  With the Bimbette threat defused, I walked as fast as I could without attracting attention towards the front door, hoping I wasn’t too late. I snatched the door open, prepared to administer a little vampire justice and save a poor innocent girl’s life.

  The poor innocent girl was on her knees, servicing Jerry’s equipment. And I’m not talking about his camera. She squealed and quickly popped back on her feet.

  “Holy hell,” Jerry exclaimed, tucking everything back into his pants. “Can’t a guy get a little privacy?”

  I stared at him like he had grown a third eye in the middle of his forehead. “How much privacy do you want? You’re on the front porch?”

  The blonde giggled. “Exciting isn’t it?” She looked at Jerry. “You’re right. Doing it outside is such a rush.”

  I looked at the blonde. “What about Jet?”

  She rolled her eyes. “What about him? I’m all about having fun. At least until I get the final rose and a proposal.” She grinned at Jerry. “Maybe even after that.”

  Jerry grinned back.

  Ugh! I closed the door, letting them get back to finding true love or whatever. Getting a look at Jerry’s junk required more alcohol, but before I could get my hands on another glass of wine or champagne, I saw something even scarier than what I had just witnessed outside.

  Granny Mags was headed in my direction, storming towards me like a force of nature. If her approach hadn’t been so scary, it might have been beautiful. All the girls in the room parted before her like the Red Sea, leaving a clear path. Cameramen would notice something happening and swing their cameras in her direction, only to quickly sweep them away when they realized who it was. It looked almost like a choreographed dance.

  “What did you do?” Granny demanded, staring up at me with a glare that was cranked to maximum power.

  “What are you talking about?” Surely she didn’t see me interrupt Jerry’s little outdoor adventure.

  “You’re still on this stupid show. I thought you’d get kicked off the first night.”

  “I thought you wanted me on the show.”

  Granny rolled her eyes. “I did. For a night. Do you think I’m a glutton for punishment? I wanted you to sweat for a day… and then I wanted you to get kicked off the show so all these people could go away.”

  I sighed. “That’s not how it works, Granny. Even if I had been eliminated during that stupid rose ceremony, the rest of the episodes would still be shot here.”

  “Well… I didn’t know that,” Granny huffed, visibly irritated. “Make them go away.”

  “We can’t,” Paige said, joining us. “We signed a contract. All of us did, including you.”

  Granny’s eyes glowed red as lava. She was only four feet tall but she seemed to tower over me for a few seconds, and then she blinked and her eyes were back to normal. She pointed a stubby finger at me. “This is your fault.”

  “How is this my fault?” I asked, shocked.

  “If you hadn’t given away my brownies, I wouldn’t have come up with this stupid idea.”

  As weird as that logic was, I couldn’t really argue with it.

  “Guys,” Paige said suddenly, “I…” Her eyes turned as white as bleached bone and her voice deepened, almost sounding like someone else. “The hand of doom has claimed one life. Two more shall fall before the rising and setting of the sun.”

  I reached out to steady her as her knees buckled. She recovered quickly, nodding at me. “Thanks.”

  “You really need to work on making those predictions less cryptic,” Pita said, joining us with Broomhilda and Anthony.

  “I wish I could,” Paige admitted.

  Granny huffed. “Two more shall fall before the rising and setting of the sun. Seems pretty clear to me.” She turned and then stopped, looking back over her shoulder at me. “I don’t know how he did it or why he did it, but your stupid bat hid the grapes. They need to be put back where they were.” Before I could nod or say anything, she was headed towards the stairs, people once again making sure to stay out of her way.

  I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. That headache was getting closer. “I need to go find Peter Vincent and tell him to return the grapes before he ends up on Granny’s bad side.”

  “Tell him to return everything else, too,” Pita said.

  I nodded, and then looked at Broomhilda, an idea occurring to me. “Broomhilda, what’s the hand of doom? Is it a spell?”

  The witch shrugged, frowning. “I suppose it could be but it’s not one I’ve ever heard of… and I didn’t sense any magic at the scene of the crime.”

  “Would you have?” Pita asked.

  Broomhilda nodded. “Oh yeah. It requires dark magic to take a life, and it’s very hard to miss something like that.”

  I nodded and headed towards the kitchen, determined to save my little bat from the wrath of Granny Mags. When I entered the kitchen, though, I briefly considered letting Granny have her way with him. I snatched a box of chocolate-covered cherries out of the air as it slowly flew by.

  Peter Vincent let out a frightened squeak and then calmed down when he saw it was me. He landed on my shoulder. “You could’ve broken a nail,” he said, examining his claws.

  “I could’ve broken your neck,” I said, wav
ing the box of chocolatey goodness at him. “These are mine.”

  “I know,” Peter Vincent said. “I saved all of my food so I thought I’d save your favorites, too.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “And when you say your food you mean…”

  Peter Vincent rolled his eyes. “All of the fruit, of course.”

  “You do realize that not every piece of fruit in this house is yours, right? We eat it, too.”

  Peter Vincent nodded. “Of course you eat it, too. I don’t mind sharing my food with you.” He glanced towards the door that led to the library. “With family. Those loud squawking girls and that horrid guy with the fake tan and overly-bright teeth are not family.”

  I rubbed my little fruit bat’s head. “I appreciate the thought, little guy, but we’re not exactly in danger of starving. Regular food is just snack stuff for vampires. You know that.”

  The little bat nodded. “I know, but snacks are important. I just wanted to help.”

  I kissed his little furry head. “I know but we’ll be okay. You, on the other hand, are in grave danger.”

  Peter Vincent gasped. “Danger?”

  I nodded. “The grapes you hid? They belong to Granny Mags.”

  The bat squeaked, his eyes filled with horror. “I didn’t know,” he gasped breathlessly.

  “I know, and everything will probably be okay, but you need to return the grapes.”

  Peter Vincent nodded.

  “And everything else,” I added.

  He stared at me for a few seconds. “Everything else… except the mangos and bananas.”

  I knew mangos and bananas were Peter Vincent’s absolute favorites but I had to establish who the boss was, and Pita really wanted her banana smoothies back. “Everything else except the mangos.”

  He sighed and nodded. “Deal.”

  “And after you bring the food back, I have a job for you.”

  Peter Vincent stood tall, working all six-inches of his height, puffing his chest out. “I won’t let you down.”

  I smiled. My little bat was so cute. He didn’t even know what the job was yet. “I want you to spy on the girls out there.”