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Little did most mortals know that the last two items actually had no effect on real vampires. Sure, we weren’t thrilled about crucifixes, but that was more of a principle thing than a real fear. As for the garlic, I loved it roasted and spread on crusty French bread. However, the vamp community had long encouraged these particular myths. If mortals knew our real weaknesses, it could spell disaster.
A perky blonde approached me as I looked at a bumper sticker that read, “Vampires do it all night.”
“Welcome to Immortal Vineyards,” she said. “Can I help you with something?”
I put the bumper sticker back, embarrassed to be seen with it. “Do you offer tours?”
“Yes, in fact we have one starting in five minutes. It meets by the bust of Bela Lugosi,” she said without a trace of irony. “In the meantime, why don’t you head over to the blood bar and sample some of our wines? Be sure to taste our Sanguinarian Shiraz. It’s to die for.” She smiled at her bad pun and winked at me. I barely managed not to flash my fangs and hiss at her.
She left to accost some other unsuspecting person, leaving me free to wander to the bar. A few other people leaned against the coffin, sipping from small glasses of wine. It didn’t take long for the fake-fanged brunette to approach me.
“Good evening, I’m Drusilla,” she said. “Might I tempt you with some bloody good wine?”
At that point, I seriously considered leaving. All the kitsch and puns were about as charming as a poke in the eye. However, I needed to figure out if Clovis had been telling me the truth. So, I forced a smile at the idiot and nodded.
“I’ve heard good things about the Shiraz,” I said.
She nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Our Sanguinarian Shiraz is our newest vintage,” she said as she took a bottle from behind the bar and poured a sample into a small glass. “It’s an earthy wine with notes of chocolate, raspberry, and leather.”
I raised an eyebrow at that last thing. “Leather?”
She laughed. “It works, believe me.”
I held her eye as I took a tentative sip. The only thing I tasted was wine. It didn’t suck, but what did I know from wine? I made appreciative noises, and she refilled the sample before moving on to another visitor.
Luckily, the tour group started gathering right then. I slammed the rest of the sample and walked over just in time to bring up the rear. The group consisted of a white-haired couple, a pair of newlyweds—obvious from the gratuitous tonsil-hockey—and two ladies with Texas twangs and big hair. A guy dressed in a tuxedo and cape with movie star hair and ridiculous neon white fangs welcomed us.
“Good evening, my name is Ivan. Who’s ready to explore the inner workings of the only vampire-owned vineyard in the world?” As he spoke through the plastic fangs a line of drool formed at the corner of his mouth. Amateur.
The others cheered. I stood back and wondered what they’d do if they knew a real vampire stood right behind them.
Ivan led us through a short hallway into what appeared to be a museum. Interactive displays sat alongside movie paraphernalia from some of Hollywood’s more famous vampire flicks. A sign on one wall read, “Vampires and Wine—A Retrospective.”
About ten minutes into it, I was ready to impale myself with a corkscrew. Ivan’s ridiculous blather about vampire lore and the intricacies of winemaking were enough to make me long for the sweet release of death.
I looked at my watch—only thirty minutes until I had to meet Giguhl. Time to get serious about my reconnaissance.
I raised my hand, interrupting Ivan’s soliloquy about tannins. “Yes?” he said, sounding annoyed by the interruption.
“Can you point me to the little girls’ room?” I asked. The entire group turned to look at me, except for the newlyweds, who were playing grab-ass by a diorama depicting the life of a grape.
“It’s down that hallway,” he said, pointing to a door at the opposite end of the museum from where we entered. Ivan had already turned back to the group, dismissing me and my bladder without a second glance.
The door led to a hallway lined with offices. After a quick scan for any signs of surveillance, I started peeking in doorways. I didn’t really expect these offices to offer much in the way of clues, which is good since I didn’t find any. At the end of the hall was the bathroom, and next to that were double doors with small windows. I glanced through them to see they led to a warehouse. Bingo.
I made quick work of the lock on the doors and slipped through them. Again, no cameras or guards were around. I figured once I saw them I’d be close.
I scooted by large pallets of empty wine bottles and large oak barrels. In the distance, I could hear the sounds of workers talking and machinery churning. I went the other direction, toward another set of doors. This time, as I neared them, I saw the cameras. Just before I got in range, I ducked behind a crate to devise a plan.
“What are you doing here?” a deep voice demanded. My heart burst into a rapid staccato as I swung around, ready to defend myself. Only instead of a guard or employee, Giguhl sat a few feet away laughing at me.
“Dammit, you scared the crap out of me.”
He laughed, a spooky noise coming from an even spookier-looking cat. “You should have seen your face.”
“Shut up,” I said. “How’d you get in here?”
“The other end of this warehouse has an open delivery dock. No one was around, so I slipped in.”
“Did you find anything?”
He shook his head. “Nada. Although the security on that door tells me that’s the place.”
“Any ideas on how to get in there without being noticed?”
“Well, see that guy coming our way?” he whispered.
I peeked over the lid of the crate. A vamp male pushing a cart was headed straight toward the door. The cart carried a defibrillator and several bags of blood. Not exactly standard winemaking tools, I thought.
“I’ll take him out, steal his uniform and pass card.” I started to move when a paw nudged my ankle.
“No, dummy, I’ll just run over and slip onto the cart. Once I’m in, I’ll take a look around.”
“And just how are you going to get back out?” I asked.
“With my catlike reflexes, of course.” He shot off before I could stop him. One second he was a fleshy gray blur and the next his ratlike tail disappeared between two boxes on the lower shelf of the cart.
The male, totally unaware of his stowaway, slid his keycard through the reader and the doors air-locked open. Just like that, Giguhl was inside.
