Vamps and the City

CHAPTER 8

"How's it going?" Gregori asked as they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge on their way home.

"It's great!" Maggie relaxed in the back seat, smiling. "I was going to the break room and passed by the studio where they do As a Vampire Turns. I peeked through the window, and I actually saw Don Orlando in person."

"Okay." Gregori smiled at Darcy. "And how is the reality show coming along?"

"Good." Darcy thought about what she'd accomplished that evening. The limousines were rented.

She'd hired a vampire-owned business to install aluminum shutters on the bedroom windows at the penthouse, so none of the guests would fry while they slept. Two DVN cameramen were selected.

A caterer was hired to provide food for the human contestants. The artist was hard at work, painting two portraits each night. "I only have one problem left. I need to find a host."

"What does the host do?" Gregori asked.

"Well, he's good at breaking bad news. He dresses well and says brilliant things like 'Gentlemen, there is only one rose left, as if no one in the room knows how to count to one." Gregori laughed. "And that's it for his job skills?"

"Well, seriously, he needs to be dependable and someone I can totally trust."

Gregori gave her a worried look. "You mean someone who won't run to Sly behind your back to tell him what you're doing, even though Sly is the one signing the checks."

"Exactly."

Gregori was silent as he turned south onto FDR drive. He drove around the southern tip of Manhattan and was zooming north on the West Side Highway when he took a deep breath and announced, "Okay. I'll do it."

"Excuse me?" Darcy asked.

"I'll be your host. You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course. But you already have a job. Don't blow it off—"

"I'm not," he interrupted her. "Look, I haven't taken a vacation in three years. I mean, Sheesh, I'm a little limited in where I can go. So, I'll take a few weeks off. The show won't last any longer than that, right?"

"No, a few weeks would do it."

Maggie leaned forward. "This is great! Gregori will be a super host."

"Well, thanks." Gregori grinned. "After all, I am a sharp dresser, and I can even count to one."

Darcy laughed. "You're the best, Gregori. Thank you."

"No, thank you. You're actually getting those women out of my house. I'm eternally grateful."

Darcy nodded. "Once they pick the Sexiest Man on Earth and he wins the million dollars, he'll be their new master."

"Poor bugger."

The next night, Darcy took Maggie and the five ex-harem ladies to DVN. She introduced them to Sylvester Bacchus. He ogled Lady Pamela's low neckline on her Regency-style dress. Then, he rushed off to his office to conduct auditions.

"What a dreadful man," Lady Pamela said as they settled around the table in the DVN conference room.

Darcy passed out their contracts. "The good thing about being judges on this reality show is that if any contestant offends you, you can simply boot him off the show."

Cora Lee frowned at the contract in front of her. "I do declare, all these big words don't make any sense to me."

Maria Consuela shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I… I never learned to read."

"Oh." Darcy tried to hide her surprise. "Well, basically, the contract states that you agree to stay on the show until the end, judge the men fairly to the best of your ability, and refrain from… biting any of them or attempting any sort of mental communication for the duration of the show."

Princess Joanna frowned. "We cannot read their minds?"

"No. No mind control and no mind reading."

"But we can make out with them, right?" Vanda asked.

Darcy winced. The thought of anyone else touching Adam made her heart twinge. "I suppose you could. If the men are willing."

Vanda grinned and played with the end of the whip she wore around her waist. "Oh, they'll be willing."

Lady Pamela shuddered. "I cannot imagine wanting any man to touch me. I much prefer vampire sex. It's much more civilized."

"Si," Maria Consuela agreed. "Mortal lovemaking is too physical and dirty. It reminds me of being tortured."

"Okay. That's settled." Darcy turned to the last page of their contracts. "This is where you sign or make your mark."

While Maggie picked up the signed contracts, Darcy handed a legal pad to Lady Pamela since she was able to write. "Now, I need you all to think about what qualifications a man would need in order to be the sexiest man on earth."

Maria Consuela fingered her rosary. "I do not understand."

"The man who wins the contest will become your new master," Darcy explained. "Right now, I need you to choose what sort of characteristics you want him to have. Then, you'll use those qualifiers to judge the men during the show." The women stared at her blankly. "Look, what kind of master do you want?"

"Oh, I know, I know!" Cora Lee raised her hand like she was in school. "He needs to be extremely handsome and filthy rich."

Darcy nodded. "The rich part will be taken care of when he wins the big cash prize. As for being handsome—that may indeed be one of your qualifications. I'll need you to list a total of ten qualifiers in the order of their importance."

"I agree with Cora Lee," Vanda said. "Number one should be rich. Number two—a handsome face."

"Let me make this clear," Darcy warned them. "The qualifications you pick will determine what sort of master you end up with. So, you might want to consider intelligence, honesty, dependability—"

"Boring," Vanda yawned. "I vote for rich and handsome."

"I agree." Lady Pamela wrote number one and two on the legal pad. "Wealth and good looks are essential."

Darcy sighed. "What about kindness?"

"Fiddlesticks," Cora Lee said. "He could be as kind as a saint, but if he has the face of a mule, I won't be able to abide him."

"That is truly spoken." Princess Joanna motioned toward the pad of paper. "Number one must be wealth. Number two—fair of face."

Darcy groaned inwardly, but refrained from interfering. After all, this was their master they were picking out.

"Excellent." Lady Pamela wrote down their decision. "Now, for number three, I propose good manners. Someone who knows how to behave in polite society and address us by the proper title."

"I agree," Princess Joanna announced. "For number four, he should have the voice of a troubadour and be able to charm a lady with fine words."

"Oh, I like that." Cora Lee nodded, her blond ringlets bouncing. "And he must be well-groomed. A sharp dresser."

"Indeed." Lady Pamela added those to her list.

"And he should be a very good dancer," Cora Lee added.

"And a good lover," Vanda said, grinning. "He should know how to please us."

"Posh," Lady Pamela scoffed. "I have no intention of involving myself physically with any man."

"Fine," Vanda muttered. "But we'd better make sure he likes women and does vampire sex well. And he should have a gorgeous body. We'll have to look at him for centuries."

Darcy was ready to scream. Whatever happened to intelligence, honesty, or dependability? "You seem to be doing very well, so I'll leave you to it." She hurried from the room before her frustration could explode. Their ideal man was a fast-talking, well-dressed troubadour who could dance and do vampire sex? Ugh.

She headed toward the break room, which was located by the recording studios in the back. As she rounded a corner, she ran into Gregori. "Hi." She nodded at his companion. "Simone."

"Bonsoir," Simone replied with a smug smile. It was little wonder that Simone had become a famous fashion model for she was stunning. Tall, dangerously thin, with almond-shaped brown eyes and long black hair, she was dressed in her signature outfit—a slinky black catsuit with a rhinestone-studded belt.

"Simone just teleported in from Paris," Gregori explained. "We're starting work tonight on an exercise DVD."

"How interesting," Darcy murmured politely.

"It was Roman's idea," Gregori continued. "Since modern-day Vamps no longer bite, he was worried we could lose our fangs from disuse."

"Ah." Darcy nodded. "Mustn't have those fangs falling out." But wouldn't that be a good thing?

"I will be zhe star of zhe DVD," Simone announced. She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "We are waiting for zhe famous director from Milan, Giovanni Bellini. Naturellement, I only work wiz zhe best."

"Naturally." Darcy nodded.

Right on cue, a small man in rumpled clothing and a black beret came sauntering around the corner.

"Ah, bellissima! There you are, as beautiful as ever." He kissed Simone on each cheek.

"Signor Bellini, this is Gregori." Simone hesitated as she looked at Darcy. "And I forget zhis one's name, but it is not important."

"Thanks." She gritted her teeth. "I'm Darcy."

Giovanni nodded at her, then turned back to Simone. "Bellissima, this will be the greatest vampire film of all time. I envision doing certain pivotal parts in black and white to signify the bleak despair of the modern age."

Gregori cleared his throat. "Mr. Bellini, it's just an exercise program for our fangs."

Giovanni stepped back, pressing a hand to his chest. "Even exercise can be portrayed as fine art. Imagine the conflict. Man versus his own corrupt, indolent nature. Come, bellissima. " He escorted her into the studio.

Gregori winced. "I shouldn't have hired him, but Simone insisted."

"You mean bellissima?" Darcy patted him on the shoulder, smiling. "Good luck."

"Yeah, I'll need it." Gregori trudged into the studio and closed the door. The red light came on.

Darcy hurried back to her office. She opened the door and froze.

Adam Olaf Cartwright was sitting at her desk.