Kathy Love - I Only Have Fangs For You

Equally as pathetic as her own ignorance was the fact that rodents had more sense than the humans she was trying to help. But the rats hadn't been told from birth that things that went bump in the night weren't real. They functioned solely on instinct. Not a bad thing.

She paused at her next table, trying to recall what the patrons here had ordered. Was it the wines or the beers?

Finally, after much debate, she just asked them. They told her the beers, which she placed before them and then moved along toward the next table.

"Can you believe that someone called the health department on the club?"

Wilhelmina stopped and turned to see Greta, one of her coworkers, standing beside her. Greta was all that a vampiress was supposed to be: beautiful, graceful, and seductive. Her Swedish splendor only enhanced by her undeath. But tonight, her ever-present, beguiling smile was missing.

"No," Wilhelmina finally said, trying to mimic Greta's amazed expression.

"Thank God they didn't find anything," the tall blonde said, hints of her Swedish origins lilting her words. "I can't afford to be without this job."

She leaned closer to Wilhelmina. "I need the money, and this is the only place I know of in the city where my secret is absolutely safe. It's not easy to be what we are and find a good job."

Greta sighed, then glided away to take a drink order from a table of mortals, the males and females alike watching her approach with appreciative fascination.

Wilhelmina stared at her for a second. Then her gaze moved to Crystal, another stunning vampiress who also waited tables. Then to Charlie, a lean handsome vampire who carried a huge tray high over his head. Constantine, a large Greek werewolf, held a post at the top of the upper level of the club, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching to be sure no violence erupted in the club below. David, or Dr. No as he called himself, a short thin human danced behind the large stereo system, a padded earphone pressed to one ear as he lined up the next song, which would begin as soon as the current dance song faded away.

There were at least twenty-five or more employees working tonight. All of them, with the exception of Dr. No, a preternatural of one kind or another. And Dr. No was so different, he didn't even seem quite human.

For the first time, she considered that these individuals, despite their preternatural fate, needed their jobs. They counted on them.

Disgust filled her that she'd never considered that fact when she was planning her attacks on the club. She should have. After all, she was no longer the sheltered, naive heiress, who didn't understand the ways of the real world. That was long gone. But she'd been so intent on stopping Sebastian that she'd lumped her coworkers together with him and his purpose for this club, when they were really just here for a job. Here to survive.

How had she overlooked that fact? Was she so focused on seeing this place closed and mortals saved that she was willing to hurt those of her own kind?

Not only that, she liked her coworkers. Even though she so obviously didn't fit into this place, they had accepted her. Perhaps it was because she was a vampire, but maybe it was something more. She didn't know. But she had intended to interrupt, and ultimately destroy, their source of livelihood.

"Hey," a man at the table a few feet away from her called. "Are those our drinks?"

She blinked down at the forgotten tray balanced in her hands, then nodded.

"Sorry," she said as she placed their drinks before them. This table was all vampires. Hungry vampires. Their need heavily scented the air, made it almost pulse.

She quickly stepped away from the table, their hunger making her skin crawl. The hairs at the nape of her neck stood up, and she shivered. Suddenly she remembered that kind of intense, frightening hunger focused on her. And the pain that followed.

She hurried on, not looking at them again.

They were the preternatural patrons that needed to be stopped, she realized, not Carfax Abbey's hardworking staff. But she didn't know how to do that.

She was still debating what could work, when she paused at her next table. All that was left on her tray were several froufrou pink cocktails with cherries and umbrellas like the one she'd tried to give the wolf. She cast a cursory glance at the booth, realizing it was occupied by young, giggly, and scantily clad mortals. These drinks had to be theirs.

She began to set the hourglass-shaped stemware on the table, when several of the ladies began to call, "Sebastian!"

Wilhelmina closed her eyes for a moment.

Great, he was coming this way. She hadn't seen him after the health inspectors had left and she hoped that he was gone for the night. No such luck.

"Good evening," he said as he reached the table, and Wilhelmina could have sworn he'd used just a hint of Transylvanian accent when he said it.

The women began to crowd together in the semicircular booth, making room for him to join them, which he did. The women's elation flooded around Wilhelmina, their desire like a heady, too sweet perfume. For a moment their emotions overwhelmed her, making her feel disoriented.

Then Sebastian turned his smile on her, and she could only focus on that lopsided curve of his pouty lips.

"Hi," Sebastian said to her. "Would you please bring these lovely ladies another round on me, and I'd like a scotch, straight up."

Wilhelmina watched as he turned his attention back to the mortals, flashing them that same sexy, lopsided grin. Although she noticed his intense eyes darkened as he admired them. Then his hunger flared so powerfully, Wilhelmina had to step back. But unlike her reaction to the other vampires' hunger from earlier, something else mingled with her disgust. Something that made her knees tremble and skin feel hot.

Suddenly she realized all of them were staring at her, puzzled by the fact that she was still there, gaping. She forced herself to move back to the table and clear away the empty glasses and napkins that littered the glossy black tabletop.

"Betty, it's good to see you again," Sebastian said, returning his attention to the ladies.

The brunette next to him giggled. "It's Becky."

"Right, Becky," he said, and Wilhelmina wasn't overly shocked to see the woman readily forgive the mistake.

"And Gina." He grinned at the girl across from him. "I thought you were moving back to Boston."

The blonde laughed, which made her impressively large breasts jiggle and threaten to spill over the top of her tight beaded top.

"Nina," she corrected with no annoyance in her voice, even after he'd just confused her friend's name. "And I was planning to move back to Boise."

"Of course," he said with no embarrassment or remorse in his voice.

Wilhelmina had the feeling these mix-ups were a very common occurrence. After all, what did Sebastian really care about these women? They were nothing more than entertainment and dinner. And that was if they were lucky.

Although, she thought bitterly, most people could remember the name of their favorite meal.

Suddenly her irritation with his cavalier behavior was too much. For the first time since she'd met him, Wilhelmina did something clumsy that she fully intended. As she picked up another empty glass, she clanked the stem against Becky's full cocktail. The glass soared over and pink liquid splashed down the front of Sebastian's pale blue designer shirt.

Sebastian jumped up as what appeared to be a mai tai with extra cherries soaked into the material of his shirt and the crotch of his trousers.

The women in the booth handed him their drink napkins as he attempted to pat away the worst of the spill.

"Oh no," Wilhelmina said, "I'm so sorry."

Sebastian looked up from the wet splotches to see something akin to a smirk on Wilhelmina's lips. As soon as she realized he was looking, the smile faded into an expression of innocent dismay.