The Real Werewives of Vampire County

by Ivy, Alexandra; Fox, Angie; Dane, Tami; Haines, Jess

  “She may not, but the rest of the pack will. Eventually. We’ll fix this somehow. Look, why don’t you go home for now”—Heather flinched at the sound of Cassandra’s angry curse, though Tiffany couldn’t hear it—“and get cleaned up, and I’ll call you in the morning. We’ll go relax at the spa for a while.”

  Tiffany glanced over her shoulder at the house, frowning. “Okay. What about the others? Do you think Cassandra and Alexis are still going to want to be friends with me?”

  “I’m sure they do. And if not, I’ll talk sense into them. Now you go home and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Heather said firmly, urging Tiffany to turn back to her car and get moving again.

  Tiffany did, unable to see the unnatural yellow glitter to Heather’s eyes as she watched her walk away.

  CHAPTER 10

  Realize that if you have time to whine and complain about something, then you have the time to do something about it.

  —Anthony J. D’Angelo

  After that spectacular conclusion to dinner, Vera had been told none too politely to keep her head down, and to stay away from Tiffany until the matter of the contract was sorted out. She didn’t argue.

  Despite Phillip’s protests that he was still interested and Cassandra’s pleading for Gabriel to give the girl another chance, he had dismissed the rest of his pack with a note of caution to hold on any actions involving Tiffany—whether it be contracting her or destroying her out of hand—until he had a chance to investigate matters further. Cassandra knew exactly what that meant. Later, privately, even her best efforts didn’t budge him. Gabriel did not want to endanger the pack, or see it torn apart over the inclusion of a member some of them clearly viewed as an enemy.

  Cassandra was still incensed that he hadn’t given in to her demands to contract Tiffany despite that thing she did with her tongue.

  Instead, he’d enjoyed every minute of her attentions, waited until she—or rather, he was done—and then told her in no uncertain terms that he was not going to put the pack at risk by accepting Tiffany into their ranks until he was assured that she posed no danger.

  Quite the argument ensued. By the end of it, even Cassandra had to admit that Vera had a point. Tiffany presented a danger to their pack even if she wasn’t a member of the White Hats anymore. There was no telling how close she was to her ex-husband or what he might do if he found out she had signed a contract with a werewolf, let alone become one of them. The contract would have to be filed in court, thus becoming a publicly accessible document—meaning, through the Freedom of Information Act, the White Hats could easily find out that one of their own had turned against them.

  It was a substantial risk that Gabriel was not willing to take. The more Cassandra thought about it, the more she saw the inherent danger as well.

  At tennis practice at Alexis’s house the following morning, Cassandra confessed as to Gabriel’s feelings on the matter, and that she had changed her mind as well.

  “Oh Cassie,” Heather said, skipping back to smoothly return Alexis’s serve with a backhanded sweep of her racket, “that just isn’t right. You know it’s not fair to her. All she wants is to be our friend.”

  “And join the pack. Don’t forget that,” Alexis shouted from across the court.

  Cassandra snorted, scuffing her shoes against the court. Heather frowned at her, unable to give a proper glare with her gaze torn between her friend and the oncoming ball. She didn’t miss a beat, returning every volley and drop shot Alexis tried pulling to win the point even as she laid into Cassandra.

  “Vera’s just being paranoid. I know she wants what’s best for the pack, but so do I—and I think we need fresh blood to revive the older stock. Considering how long it’s been since the last time we contracted someone, we’re never going to find anyone so easy to convince as Tiffany Winters again. Someone who fits our standards—and comes to us, no less—is unheard of, and don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. We aren’t the Moonwalkers in New York, no matter how badly we wish we were. We need to take advantage of this while we can.”

  “She can’t be one of us, darling. Gabriel said no.”

  “You always do what Gabriel tells you?”

  Alexis hurled a particularly vicious shot over the net that Heather had to scramble to catch and return. It certainly got her attention.

  “Honey, I don’t think you’re looking at this clearly. She was married to a White Hat. Bane of our existence? Hunts our kind on the weekends for sport? I’m with Cassie and Vera on this. Don’t question the pack leader’s judgment. We all need to back off.”

  Heather growled softly, the sound echoing across the court, punctuated by the sharp thock of the ball being slapped across the court hard and fast—too fast for Alexis to keep up with, scoring Heather the first point. Cassandra rose to take her place on the court.

  The two faced off as Alexis settled primly on a bench, taking a sip of Evian as she watched the pair. Cassandra prepared to serve, pausing just long enough to speak a few words first.

  “Don’t overstep your bounds, Heather. You don’t rank high enough in the pack to challenge Gabriel. Or me.”

  Heather’s normally warm brown eyes now glittered gold, and she said nothing while dashing across the tarmac with supernatural speed to reach the ball. The two women played a silent game, daring each other with sharp, cutting movements, each working to outdo the other.

  Sweat freely dripped down their bodies, the world narrowing to one competitive moment, every action and reaction calculated to win the point and end the game. Cassandra hit the ball high and deep into Heather’s court, forcing her to exercise extra speed and leap unnaturally high to reach it.

  With a rush, Heather dashed forward to meet the lob, using an overhead smash to gain the point and end the game.

  “Don’t push too hard, Cassie,” Heather said, tossing her racket aside with a clatter and rubbing the sweat off her brow with her arm. “You and Gabriel aren’t the only voices in the pack.”

  Cassandra and Alexis watched with narrowed eyes as Heather spun on her heel and left the court, leaving them behind.

  Cassandra sipped at the mai tai Alexis had prepared for her, crossing her legs at the ankles as she relaxed in the kitchen. They’d waited a few minutes before they followed Heather inside, leaving her alone as she stalked off to one of the guest bedrooms to cool down and shower in peace.

  “You’re not worried about what she said, are you?”

  “No,” Cassandra replied, not meeting Alexis’s questioning gaze. “Not worried. Concerned. Vera and Heather both make good points, but I don’t think now is the time to tell Tiffany that we don’t want her around or that we won’t be turning her into one of us. It might be better if we distance ourselves instead.”

  Alexis pulled her towel from around her neck and dabbed at her forehead and cheeks before picking up her own drink and leaning against the marble countertop, taking a sip before answering.

  “I’m not sure if Tiffany will accept that. Do you think Gabriel will ever let one of us contract or turn her?”

  “Honestly? No.”

  Alexis paused in lifting her drink back to her lips, brow cocked. “And do you think she’ll accept that?”

  Cassandra shook her head, setting her drink down and pushing it away. The two women said nothing for a time, the silence between them growing heavy.

  Shifting her weight and looking away, Alexis broke the silence by turning around and busying herself with tidying the kitchen counters, even though the maid and the cook had already done so earlier in the day. In her Juicy shorts and Nikes with sparkling pink swooshes, she didn’t look like much of a domestic, but she did her best impression as she banged cabinets and put the drink mixes away.

  “We can’t trust her, you know,” Alexis said, keeping her back to Cassandra as she reached up into one of the cabinets to adjust some of the dishes.

  “I know.”

  “You can’t let her go around thinking she’s st
ill welcome, either. One of us is going to have to tell her.”

  Cassandra harrumphed, a low growl rumbling in her throat. Alexis was careful not to meet her gaze, keeping her head down and her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach when she turned around.

  “Maybe we should do it together. We can tell her to come over to Tiffany’s later, and we can sit down as a group and discuss it like civilized people. If we keep Vera out of it, maybe she’ll even listen to us.”

  Cassandra’s eyes flashed gold, matching her eye shadow, and her lip lifted in a silent snarl before she huffed out a breath of air and let fallen lids obscure her gaze. “I’m not sure if that’s an option. If we tell her, she might react badly. Go back to her husband, maybe.”

  “If we don’t tell her,” Alexis countered, “she might get it into her head that she still has a chance at becoming one of the pack, and end up doing something foolish. Worse, one of the boys might go along with it, and then where will we be? You saw how they were looking at her last night and how she had them wrapped around her fingers at the party. We can’t take the chance.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  Alexis tossed her towel down on the counter before levering herself up to sit on it, reaching for her drink again. “If we tell her that we’ll still be her friends, but gradually work our way out of her life and not invite her to all of the parties, maybe she won’t take it quite so hard. We’ll be safe, she’ll be screwed, and we can all get on with our lives.”

  Cassandra laughed, some of the tension easing out of her shoulders. “If she accepts it as easy as that, I’d be very surprised. I suppose we can give it a shot. Maybe after enough time passes, Gabriel will change his mind. For now, I’m sure Heather can keep her entertained when we’re not around.”

  Heather walked in, now dressed in jeans and a Gucci T-shirt, rubbing the towel through her hair. “Doubtful. I don’t like it.”

  “We didn’t expect you would,” Alexis said, pushing a third drink down the smooth countertop. Heather caught it easily and took a deep pull. “But I’m sure you’ll agree it’s all for the best.”

  Heather downed half the drink in a go, earning raised brows and concerned looks from the other two ladies. She set the glass down with a clack, nearly breaking it.

  “No, I don’t like it. But it’ll have to do.”

  The two nodded and smiled, glad to hear she agreed. Until she added a quiet “for now” under her breath.

  CHAPTER 11

  Live by the gun, die by the gun.

  —Tupac Shakur

  “I have something you should see.” Cassandra harrumphed as she dug through her closet, looking for a pair of shoes to wear, her cell phone tucked to her ear. “Vera, I know you just want to help, but you need to lay off. We’re handling this.”

  “I have proof this time.”

  Cassandra paused, one foot halfway into her Bottega Veneta platform wedge sandals. She was already irritated at Vera for tricking her into picking up by calling from an unfamiliar number—her husband’s office line—after calls from her cell went unanswered. Vera was quick to fill the silence, the urgency in her tone not feigned in the least.

  “She’s one of them, Cassie. Be careful.”

  “We’re all meeting at Heather’s house in two hours. Bring whatever you found.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Vera—”

  “Don’t say it. I know. I’ll behave myself.”

  Cassandra’s tone was icy, commanding, and brooked no refusal. “See that you do. Another slip like the one you made at dinner, and I’ll personally see to it that there’s nothing left when the police come to pick you up for harming a human outside of a contract.”

  Vera was met with the click of a dial tone before she could reply.

  Though a trifle peeved at being hung up on, Vera tossed the cordless phone she’d borrowed from her husband’s office onto the bed and gathered the printouts of articles she’d found on the Internet. She was rather proud of the glossy quality her husband’s printer had spit out, showing Tiffany on the edge of a pack of scruffy-looking hunters with a gun in her hand and a White Hat pin prominently tacked to the lapel of what looked like a knockoff Ralph Lauren blazer.

  So tacky.

  Alexis slowly exhaled, her eyes closed, one hand palm up, the other down, resting them on her folded legs. The taste of incense was heavy on the air, and the soft instrumental music and burbling water from a nearby fountain assisted her to find her center.

  Since it had been cut short, and tensions had been high the entire time, the tennis match hadn’t helped her to work off the excess supernatural energy of her second nature as it normally would have. With all of the stress from Vera and Tiffany’s sniping and fighting, she had felt it necessary to call in an emergency session with her private yoga instructor. It took some pleading and persuading, but he had eventually conceded, and cancelled one of his morning appointments for her.

  The meditation wasn’t doing much to calm her. She was certain there must be something she was doing wrong—but she didn’t dare speak, knowing her yogi would instruct her if he determined she was not properly following the path of Ashtanga Yoga to serenity and enlightenment. Really, the only reason she was interested in continuing the lessons was because the instructor was one of those hard-bodied men who was Alpha enough to get her to obey his instructions without question, and because the meditation did, to some degree, help her calm herself and maintain greater control over her inner beast.

  “Remember to breathe,” her yogi said, pressing his hand into her lower back to force her to correct her posture.

  With a slight nod, she took in the scent of sandalwood and musk, taking it through her mouth instead of her nose despite the taste it left on her tongue. She didn’t want to destroy her sense of smell for the rest of the day.

  If there was a hunt, she might need it later.

  Heather rushed about her home, getting her maid to tidy the house before sending her on an errand so the woman wouldn’t become suspicious or overhear the conversation once the other werewives and Tiffany arrived. She made sure she had plenty of alcohol on hand—she thought they might need it once the news was given.

  She wasn’t looking forward to telling Cassandra that she’d stopped at the courthouse that morning to file the signed and notarized papers Tiffany had forgotten and left behind at dinner last night.

  Tiffany had everything she intended to bring with her to Heather’s house spread out on her bed.

  She wasn’t stupid. She knew Cassandra was reconsidering allowing her into the pack after all that Vera had said. The offer to meet again at Heather’s was what tipped her off. Neutral ground; a place she would hesitate to cause a scene, because the property belonged to a friend.

  Tiffany had given careful thought to what she needed to bring with her, and felt that the netbook computer to play a video on, the photographs, and the piece of jewelry she’d stolen from Vera when the ladies left their clothing behind in the woods at Alexis’s party would serve her purposes admirably.

  Though they had never said as much, the Diamondfangs had always worked under the radar of the press and the hunters, working through society’s elite. Its members would never want to be outed as real monsters lurking under the façades of ruthless businessmen and women—but now Tiffany knew who most of them were, and had the pictures and dossiers to prove their connections.

  She would get what she wanted, or the werewives would be exposed to the world for the bitches they were.

  Vera arrived early, papers tucked under her arm in a neat leather portfolio she’d also borrowed from her husband’s office. Heather was surprised to see her, but didn’t question it, figuring that it would most likely be for the best once she delivered her news. That way she could be present to deflect any immediate attack Vera might attempt.

  Alexis was next, breezing inside with a calm, collected air and trailing the scent of incense behind her. The other girls wrinkled their noses at the stink
, but she ignored them, dropping into the plush cushions of a couch. She kicked off her embossed leather Alaia sandals and swung her legs up onto the couch, lounging comfortably. Cassandra was not far behind, arriving only fifteen minutes after the scheduled meeting time. She drew off her Versace sunglasses once she was inside and tossed her Yves Saint Laurent purse on the couch next to Alexis, putting her hands on her hips.

  “Hmph. She’s planning to be fashionably late again, I see.”

  “She’ll be here soon,” Heather said, waggling her BlackBerry. “She sent me a text that she was running behind. Had to pick something up on the way, she said.”

  Vera frowned, stalking over to a chair that gave her a good vantage of the rest of the room, as well as the front door, so she’d know the moment Tiffany arrived. Cassandra huffed and toyed with a few strands of her hair, giving the other girls a hint as to just how peeved she was by the whole situation.

  Alexis gestured her over, tucking in her legs to make room. “Come on, Cassie. Come sit and relax. Breathe, darling. My instructor tells me that controlling your breathing is essential in learning how to control your life force. Or something like that.”

  The other girls stared at her blankly.

  “What?” she said, frowning at the looks they were giving her. “It’s part of the road to spiritual development. That’s very important, you know.”

  “Oh, whatever,” Cassandra said, rolling her eyes before tucking her skirt under her and settling primly on the edge of the cushions. “Heather, be a love and get the drinks started, would you? I have the feeling we’re all going to need them before this is over.”