Real Vamps Don’t Drink O-neg. Tawny Taylor
could see. It was…awful! Some kind of strange story about a freaky woman who was traveling the globe with the sole purpose of having sex with anything she could—male, female…and not always human. Could a woman really do that with a donkey? She shuddered. Granted, Sophie could accept the fact that she was a little uptight about sex. Unlike Lilly, the character in Dao’s book, she took the wheres, whos, and whats of sex seriously, hence the lengthy dry spell. But she couldn’t imagine this creepy story selling anywhere, at least not outside of a porn shop.
She glanced at Dao. This had to be a joke, some kind of trick to get her over there, since she hadn’t visited her best pal in several weeks.
The thing was, she couldn’t find a hint of amusement on his face. Lots of hope, a little nervousness even, but not a bit of laughter. She glanced deeper into his eyes.
Oh boy, he was serious.
“I…wow. I don’t know what to say. It’s very…um, different. Why the change in, er, genres? I mean, you’ve done very well with your mysteries. I love your mysteries. They’re so gritty and real.”
“I felt it was time for a change.”
“And what a change it is,” Sophie said, making every effort to keep her reaction tamed down for the sake of her friend’s feelings. She knew Dao had a very delicate ego, at least when it came to his work.
“So, what do you think?” he asked as he scanned the page with his cute little brown eyes. “I’m on fire for this one. Can’t stop thinking about it, even when I’m sleeping.”
It’s garbage, if you want to know the truth. “On fire? Really?” Yes, burning it sounds like a good plan. Sophie sighed. “Well, who am I to say what’ll sell and what won’t?” Not the least bit interested in reading any more, she leaned back in her chair. “I’m just a lowly secretary, not an editor. Have you shown this to your agent yet?”
“No, not yet. I’m waiting. Want to get it perfect first. It’s almost there.”
“Yeah? Almost perfect, eh?” Better do another read through.
Dao leaned forward, obviously becoming engrossed in whatever he was reading. He clicked the mouse, pecked at the keyboard, then scrolled down some more and repeated the process. “I can’t stop tweaking it here and there…I…oh…” his words trailed off as he started typing furiously. His face twisted into a tight expression of intense effort, like one you might see on someone hanging by their fingertips from a thousand-foot cliff. “This is wonderful! Utterly amazing.” His keyboard went clackety-clack as he continued typing. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Taking that as her cue to leave, Sophie gave his shoulder a pat. “I’ll come back in a few days and see how that story is coming.”
“Ummm.” Dao answered, not missing a beat as he continued typing.
Sophie closed his office door behind her after she tiptoed out of the room. Confused—no, more like freaked out!—by her friend’s bizarre behavior and frightening appearance, she flopped back against the closed door to catch her breath.
Dao had gone from a fun-living, social guy with a sparkling smile and fairly sturdy physique to an obsessed, frail, sickly man in what? A couple of months? A few late nights couldn’t have done that to him.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. And as his friend, she owed it to him to find out what. She’d never let another person she loved down again, never ignore the signs that something was wrong and assume everything would work itself out.
Making that mistake once was more than enough for a lifetime.
And this was Dao, the person who’d practically carried her through the grief of that first loss.
As she straightened up, she caught a dull thump coming from the bedroom he shared with Lisse. She tensed. Nothing like catching a new bride by surprise.
“Dao, honey. Where’d you go?” Lisse crooned from the other side of the closed door.
Not wanting to get in the way of her newly wedded friend’s love life, Sophie hurried down the corridor toward the living room. Before she reached the hallway’s end, she heard the telltale squeak of a door’s hinges, then a female’s surprised gasp. She stopped walking, figuring the sight of a woman running down one’s hallway would be far more suspicious than the sight of one’s husband’s best friend standing all casual-like in the hallway. Still, she couldn’t quite convince herself to turn around and give Lisse the reassuring smile she probably needed.
The door slammed shut behind Sophie’s rigid back before she hazarded a glance over her shoulder. Figuring it was safe to look now, she turned around and said, “Sorry, Lisse. Dao called me over to check out his latest story. I’m headed out now.”
“It’s okay,” Lisse’s muffled voice came through the door. “I didn’t know you were here. I’m…not dressed yet. I hope you don’t mind showing yourself out.”
“Nope, not at all. I was just heading home as we speak,” she said as she hurried toward the door.
“Okay. Goodbye, Sophie. I’m sorry I can’t be more social. You must think I’m very rude but my robe is down in the laundry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Next time I’ll make sure Dao tells you before he invites me over at five A.M. on a Saturday morning.” One hand on the doorknob, Sophie stooped over to slip on her clogs. As she kicked at her overturned left shoe, something opalescent and sparkly clung to the top of it. Curious, she plucked up the roundish shiny object, very thin and delicate, about the size of a quarter, and slipped it in her jacket pocket. On went the shoes and out she went, into the cool, damp early summer morning.
What a way to start the weekend, with a real-life—correction—life-or-death mystery! Regardless of her friend’s insistence to the contrary, she had more than a sneaking suspicion that his health was in serious jeopardy. But how would she get him—a man who’d insisted on weathering pneumonia without seeing a doctor—to go in for a checkup?
Sophie studied the strange shimmery round thing she’d picked up at Dao’s house Saturday as she set the phone back on the cradle. She wasn’t sure if she’d just gotten the brush-off from Lisse or if she was just imagining things. Oftentimes, it was hard for her to distinguish reality from her fairly active imagination.
Looking for an ally in her quest to get Dao to the doctor, she’d called the one person she figured could actually convince him to go—his wife, naturally. Lisse seemed to be on her side as they discussed concerns about Dao’s health, but when it came time to ask her to call and make an appointment for him, she grew very quiet. Granted, she didn’t say she wouldn’t, but for some reason…
Why wouldn’t his wife, the woman who loved him, want him to go to the doctor?
The phone rang, and still lost in her thoughts, Sophie swept it up, tucking it between her chin and shoulder as she answered, “Tri County Paranormal Research Associates. How may I help you?”
Like most folks who called her work, the woman on the other end sounded breathless and panic-stricken as she detailed the nature of her problem. Sophie took down the woman’s information, then put the call through to her boss, Tim, who happened to be in the office today. Most of the time he was out playing ghost buster with a truckload of electronic gizmos that as far as Sophie could tell did nothing but blink and make ugly noises.
Tim was extremely intelligent, like a card-carrying member of MENSA smart. And because she believed genius and insanity were like kissing cousins—too close for most people’s comfort—she attributed his obsession with paranormal gobbledygook to this relationship. At least his stories were amusing, and the interest from his trust fund would keep her paychecks coming for a long time.
After she passed on the call, she set the shiny thing aside, figuring she’d ask Tim what he thought of it later. It had no markings like a coin, and it had a slightly irregular shape. On closer examination, it reminded her of two things—either a dime that had been flattened