Kerrelyn Sparks: Sexiest Vampire Alive

“No, I’m not. They’re married.” Radinka clasped her hands together over her heart. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Gregori swayed. The sun must be nearing the horizon. Or maybe he was reeling from shock. Connor was married? To the beautiful Marielle? Hell must have frozen over. He glanced at the beaming look of delight on his mother’s face. Oh yeah, it was coming. Wait for it. Five, four, three—

“I wonder if they’ll be able to have children,” she whispered.

Gregori groaned. She was picking up speed.

“You know, Robby and Olivia are expecting.” She gave Gregori a pointed look. “That means Angus and Emma will be grandparents soon.”

“I’d love to discuss it in great detail for about three hours, but gosh darn, Mom, I’m about to fall over dead.”

She scoffed. “You’ve used that excuse before. Don’t think I’ll forget about this.”

“I’m sure you won’t.”

“All the Vamp men are having children except you.”

“I would need a wife first. Or a uterus. Either case is highly unlikely.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You need to stop playing around.”

“Good night, Mom.” He kissed her cheek, then stumbled toward the closet. “Oh, before I forget—will you send a case of Blardonnay to Maggie’s ranch in Texas? And lock the door when you leave, okay?”

“Okay. Good night, dear.”

Gregori shut himself inside the large walk-in closet. Not as comfy as a bed, but he didn’t have time to get to one of the bedrooms in the basement. Besides, once he was dead, he really didn’t notice how uncomfortable he was. He stretched out on the carpet as the tug of death-sleep crept over him.

Connor was married? What was the vampire world coming to? The apocalypse, apparently, if he didn’t do his job well. No pressure there. After eighteen years of detaching himself from the mortal world, he was being forced back into it. Straight into the center of power.

The makeup artist’s words came back to haunt him. We’re doomed. Doomed!

Vamps around the world were depending on him. He had to succeed no matter what. One last thought came to his mind before he succumbed to total darkness.

He needed to order another case of stress balls.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Whelan. It’s a pleasure working with you.” Gregori motioned for Sean Whelan to enter his office.

The sun had set five minutes earlier. After waking from his death-sleep, Gregori had guzzled down a warmed-up bottle of synthetic blood, then he’d dashed down the hall to use the men’s restroom. He’d been on his way back to his office when Sean had accosted him in the hallway.

He followed Sean into his office. “I guess you slept in one of the basement bedrooms?”

“Yes.” Sean glanced around, then stiffened. “What the hell is that?” He pointed at the couch.

“She’s a Vampire Artificial Nutritional Needs Appliance,” Gregori explained as he shut the door. “Otherwise known as VANNA. Phineas has VANNA Black somewhere. This one is VANNA White.”

Sean wrinkled his nose. “It’s disgusting.”

“Now don’t be rude. You’ll hurt her feelings.” Gregori adjusted the red bow around VANNA’s neck. “I was thinking she’d make a nice gift for the president.”

Sean’s mouth dropped open, and his complexion turned a mottled red. “You will do no such thing! You’d better—”

“Relax, dude. I was joking.” Gregori picked VANNA up and tossed her back into his closet. When he turned around, he found Sean scowling at him. “What?”

“You look like you slept in those clothes.”

“I did. I worked till dawn researching the president.”

Sean snorted. “Don’t bother. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

“Oh really?” Gregori wasn’t about to admit that he’d formulated his own set of plans for dealing with the president.

“Yes.” Sean crossed his arms over his chest. “This is how it will play out. We’ll teleport to the safe house precisely at nine P.M., then I’ll brief you for the meeting. The White House will send a car for us at nine-thirty. Our meeting with the president is at ten o’clock sharp.”

Gregori nodded. He’d questioned the need for a safe house at the meeting last night. Teleporting back and forth would be so much easier. Angus had explained why they needed to arrive at the White House in a car like normal people. They wanted to severely limit the number of mortals who knew about vampires. Only a few at the top should know.

Although Angus agreed they should arrive by car, he was opposed to Sean and his Stake-Out team being in charge of the safe house. The future of Vamps depended on the success of this mission, so Angus had a plan to make sure they remained safe.

Sean smirked, apparently pleased that Gregori was keeping his mouth shut and not questioning his authority. “For right now, you need to make yourself presentable.”

“Really? That would have never occurred to me.”

Sean scowled. “You can cut the sarcasm, especially when we’re with the president. In fact, just keep your mouth shut and let me handle everything.”

“The Coven Masters voted for me to represent Vamps. I intend to do my job, Whelan.”

Sean gave him a skeptical look. “From what I hear, you spend all your time schmoozing with vampire celebrities—”

“And it was great training for this gig. I know how to get what I want.”

Sean narrowed his eyes. “Your hair’s too long.”

Gregori grinned. Was that the worst he could come up with? Yeah, his hair was a little long for a businessman. The ends brushed his shoulders, but it was a good five inches shorter than the ponytails on the warrior Vamps.

He collected his tie, coat, and cuff links. “I’ll see you here at nine.”

“No. I want you here at a quarter till. We teleport precisely at nine.”

“Chillax, Whelan. It only takes a second to teleport.”

“A quarter till. I’m in charge of this—”

Before Sean could finish, Gregori teleported to his condo on the Upper West Side. Fifteen minutes later, he’d showered, shaved, and packed a suitcase. For the meeting, he decided to wear a gray Armani suit, crisp white shirt, and his favorite red power tie.

He paused in the middle of buttoning his shirt. Roman had been right when he said it all boiled down to presenting the right image. He was supposed to be the safe, harmless Vamp who picked flowers instead of victims. Instead of biting young women, he helped little old ladies across the street.

With a groan, he yanked his shirt over his head, then tossed it onto his bed.

“Safe and harmless,” he muttered as he selected a pale blue shirt. It would be a lot more fun to wear a tuxedo and vampire cape. And have a Hungarian accent like Zoltan. Instead, Gregori fastened his cuff links and put on a gray tie with thin blue stripes.

He removed his page of strategy plans from the pants pocket of his dirty clothes and studied the list, committing it to memory. He also had Angus’s security plans to follow.

At thirteen minutes till nine, he teleported with his suitcase to the side entrance at Romatech, since arriving inside the building would set off an alarm. He swiped his ID badge and entered. Halfway down the hall, he passed by the security office.

The door opened and half a dozen MacKay employees spilled out into the hallway.

“Ye understand the plan, lad?” Angus asked.

“Yes.”

“Yo, undercover brother.” Phineas gave him a knuckle pound. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Sean’s a little upset,” Emma warned him. “He claims you’re running late.”

Gregori’s mouth twitched. “By two minutes. Just to annoy him.”