Page 61 of Throwing Shade
Feeling slightly foolish, I hurried through my morning routine so I could stop for a large mocha with two shots of espresso and extra whip to get my day back on track.
Nice idea. Between document management, fixing order requests, and tracking down periodicals that had gone astray, work was crazy. I got a much-needed break late in the afternoon at a retirement party for one of the paralegals, where I chatted with colleagues while eating a delicious chocolate ganache cake, absolutely not thinking about other French delights. The partners told me how pleased they were with my work, and when I thanked them and said I was looking forward to the library expansion, I meant it.
Beyond raises and new challenges, my job was good for another thing. I called Daisy Alverez, the private investigator whom the firm kept on retainer and asked her to look into Tatiana Cassin. Even though Tatiana’s magic wouldn’t be unearthed by a Sapien investigation, she’d been a success in the Sapien art world for decades, and as such, Daisy would have no trouble amassing the basics of her personal and professional life. From there, I’d use my magic knowledge to assess the information for any red flags. Tatiana might be like some of my cousin Goldie’s friends and simply relish the power that being in the know gave them, but if there was more to her than that, this was a good start.
Daisy gave me the friends and family discount provided I threw in my secret raspberry shortbread recipe that she’d tasted on several occasions at my holiday open house parties. She’d gotten guilted into being on the bake sale committee for her kids’ school and meant to show up the mommy mafia with her show-stopping baking.
My agreement was a no-brainer—what was tougher was when she asked me if she should only put together a profile for one person, or if there was someone else I had in mind too. Curiosity warred with ethics. Unlike Tatiana, Laurent hadn’t shown any interest in my personal business, and it felt unscrupulous to dig into his background, especially since we’d only be working together until Jude was found, but damn was I tempted. The man was an enigma, and he intrigued me like no one had in a very long time.
Ignoring my voice of temptation, I signed off on solely Tatiana.
There was only one way to get into the right head-space for tonight’s vamp visit. I hit a local fast-food chain for a bacon cheeseburger and extra-large fries, then put on my stretchiest Lululemon knock-offs back home and ate my body weight in salt and grease. Fuck table manners, I went to town on that beef like it was the lead singer of that shitty alternative band I’d been so eager to impress as a gamine youth. I even made the same noises and followed it up with the same generous pour of white wine to cleanse my shame-filled palate.
Forty really was the new twenty.
Afterwards, I lay bloated on the sofa, scrolling endlessly through Netflix without watching an actual program, only the short previews that came up for each show. It was binge-watching for those of us without the energy to pare down the glut of choices and commit.
It drove Sadie crazy when I did that, but she wasn’t here.
At 9:30PM, I hopped into a pair of jeans, and proceeded to spend the next couple minutes re-arranging my belly in order to get the zipper up after that grease extravaganza. It was a vigorous process involving the loss of my dignity but I found an earring under my bed that I’d misplaced, so it wasn’t a total wash. Sadly, all my sports bras were dirty, so a regular torture chamber it was.
I emerged from the experience clad in denim and determination, shoved my phone, a credit card, and driver’s license in my pockets so I wouldn’t be hampered down with a purse, and got into my car. As I reversed down the driveway, a pale-skinned young woman with a crop top and frosted pink lips leaned out from the shadows of my back seat.
I screamed and hit the brakes.
“Keep driving.” The scent of the watermelon gum filled the car. “Do as I say and there won’t be a problem.” She blew a bubble and popped it. With her fangs. “Understand?”
My shoulders notched up an inch. This was what was waiting for me outside last night. “Got it. Where am I going?”
“Blood Alley.”
On my own, without any wolf back-up. Had Harry given the vampires a heads-up about our plans? I hit the gas too hard and the car jerked forward.
“You made me swallow my gum,” she growled. Her eyes glowed red.
My stomach knotted up, my hands slick on the wheel. “Sorry.”
“Ooh, is that the Weekly Top 40?” She pointed at the radio. “Turn it up.”
I jacked up the volume with a trembling hand, glancing in the rear-view mirror every couple of seconds as we drove closer to our destination.
I couldn’t unbuckle my seat belt and get out of the car before she attacked me. Nor could I go on the offense, strapped in as I was. Admittedly, the only vampires I’d ever fought were back during my videogame days, in pixel form, but I’d kicked ass. Surely some of the mechanics were the same.
Switching lanes, I scoffed at my delusions, recalling when a seven-year-old Sadie had insisted on joining Little League because she was so good at videogame baseball. It was debatable whether the ensuing season had been more Greek tragedy or farce.
Bring it. I was a woman of a certain age, a mother, and extremely pissed off. The vamps didn’t stand a chance.
The bloodsucker sang along to some love ballad, her dramatic flair failing to compensate for her utter lack of musical ability.
“I’m Miri.” Television was a veritable treasure trove for survival skills: in the event of a zombie apocalypse team up with a slower person, in quicksand stay calm and slowly pull each leg to the surface, and when kidnapped, establish a rapport with your captors so they see you as a real person. “What’s your name?”
A car cut in front of me and I hit the brakes, braced for the vamp to retaliate, but she threw back her head and belted out the chorus about being her own woman and not needing a man.
I lowered the volume on the radio. I wasn’t making any connections here and I was already halfway to Blood Alley. Time was slipping through my fingers.
Then it hit me. “I guess being a female vamp is the ultimate in girl power, huh?”
The vamp sucked in a breath and I tensed, worried that I’d offended her somehow, but she screeched delightedly and clapped her hands. “It totally is. Those stupid boy vamps think they’re the shit, but everything about vampires is female positive. Like take my name, Lindsey BatKian.”
