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A note card slid out--the fancy ones invitations were sent on--and I held it by the edges and flipped it open. The card simply read: To Ms. Menolly D'Artigo,
I summon the pleasure of your company, to be spent as my companion for the Winter Solstice Vampire Ball, to be held at the Clockwork Club on the evening of December 17th. My limousine will arrive for you at precisely eleven P.M., at your home, to bring you to the club. No RSVP necessary--I trust you will comply.
Roman
What the fuck? Who was Roman? The name seemed familiar, but I couldn't place it, although I knew I'd heard it before. I slipped the note back in the envelope and replaced it on her desk. That she hadn't told us about this made me wonder al the more.
"Delilah?" Luke's voice echoed through the door. "You okay?"
Hastily, I zipped up my pants and tucked in my sweater and, grabbing the spray bottle, I opened the door.
"Yah, just did my clothes, too. Even if it fades them, it's got to be better than the smel they were accumulating. You should market this stuff--it's a miracle. Hey, did Camil e ask you about a picture of Amber's husband?"
He walked me to the front, frowning. "No, should she have?"
"Should she have what?" Camil e asked. "And who's she?"
"The picture--remember? We need a picture of Amber's husband, if possible. I thought you asked Luke for one on the phone this morning when you cal ed him."
"Damn it, I forgot--"
Luke stopped her. "That's okay. I happen to have a picture of the two of them together in my wal et. You can have it." He pul ed out his wal et and fished out the picture. "Here you go--that's Rice, her husband. Fucking scumbag."
"So you said," I murmured, taking the picture. "Okay, we're heading over to the hotel now." Stopping as we headed for the door, I turned back to the werewolf. "Luke, have there been any . . . strange . . . vampires around the bar lately? Or other denizens that seem . . . out of place. Wealthy, maybe?"
He frowned, leaning on the bar, his biceps bulging through the shirt. Oh yeah, the man had muscles. "You know, someone came in the other night who I thought might be vampire, but I wasn't sure. He delivered a note for your sister. That who you talking about?"
I shrugged, not wanting him to think it over so much that he mentioned my curiosity to Menol y. "Nah, probably not. But thanks just the same."
Camil e tugged on my arm, but I shook my head and led the way out of the bar. When we were outside, I pul ed my jacket tighter against the gusting wind and led the way to my Jeep. We jumped in, and after fastening seat belts, Camil e turned to me.
"So what was that al about?"
"Just this--I found a note on Menol y's desk. It was an invitation . . . no--make that a demand--that she go to a vampire bal at the Clockwork Club with someone named Roman. Fancy paper, parchment, sloping cal igraphy. If it was delivered by a man in a limousine, then he's probably rich."
She turned over the thought in her mind--I could almost see the wheels grinding away. Then she snapped her fingers. "Roman! I remember her mentioning him. He's some ancient vampire that she went to see when we were investigating Sabele's disappearance. I think she said he's even older than Dredge was. Which means . . . he's very powerful. What the fuck does he want with Menol y? I mean, I love her, but he's like . . . what . . . a rock star among vampires?"
"I don't know, but I have a very odd feeling about it, and I want to know what the hel 's going on. We can't afford to keep secrets anymore." I turned the ignition and pul ed out of the parking spot as the rain hit again, and speeding along the glistening city streets, we were off for the hotel.
Amber had checked in at the Jefferson Inn, a moderately priced hotel with a standard diner attached. Families on vacation stayed here, people dumped unwanted relatives here during holiday visits, and salesmen who weren't making enough to afford the Hyatt scored rooms at the inn.
Luke had told us that Amber was paid up for several days, so we wandered over to the registration desk. Camil e unmasked her glamour, and we leaned across the counter.
"Yes, may I help you?" The clerk turned around and blinked. Twice. His harried expression dropped away as Camil e let out a bril iant smile.
"We need some information, and you're just the man who can help us." She winked, and he blushed. Yep, bottle her sex appeal, and we could rule the world. That, together with Luke's deodorizer, were two of the best inventions since sliced bread.
"What do you want to know?" He leaned over the counter to meet her gaze, and his eyes grew big and dark and wide as he breathed in the pheromones coming off of my sister. He inhaled deeply and held his breath, closing his eyes for a moment.
"We need information on Amber Johansen, who checked into the hotel yesterday. Do you know who we're talking about? She's seven months pregnant."
I held out the picture of Amber and her husband. "And have you seen the man who's with her in this picture?"
The clerk stared at the photographs for a moment, then slowly nodded. "That's her--I recognize her. I don't know if he's been around."
"Can you give us a passkey and her room number? We need to check on Amber and make certain she's okay. And of course, we know you'l keep this our little secret." Camil e smiled again and licked her lips.
The clerk just about fel over himself coding another key card for the room. He handed it over and let out a long sigh.
