Gemma Halliday: Fearless in High Heels

But my gaze was quickly torn from his clothing choice. Because as he opened his mouth to ask, “May I help you?” two smooth, sharp fangs shone brightly below his upper lip.

I blinked, hardly hearing what he was saying, my eyes fixated on the fangs staring back at me. I repeat… fangs. Two tiny punctures wounds in Alexa’s neck, two pointy teeth staring back at me. What were the chances they were unrelated?

Dana must have seen the same thing as she elbowed me in the ribs. “Dude,” she whispered.

My thoughts exactly.

“Uh, I’m sorry, what?” I asked, forcing my attention away from the guy’s teeth as I vaguely registered him talking to us.

He smiled, showing off the possible murder weapons again. “I asked how I could help you?”

“Oh. Right. Um, yeah.” I cleared my throat, trying to focus on anything but teeth. “Uh, we’re looking for Sebastian Black.”

“You found him,” he informed me.

“Oh.” I’ll admit, I was surprised. He was hardly the Daddy figure I’d been envisioning. Or the sugar daddy for that matter.

While the fangs had clearly been the attention suckers up front, I paused to take in the rest of him. He had jet black hair, cropped close to his head and gelled into a mass of tiny spikes that gave off a dangerous and oddly alluring vibe. While the vampire stereotype was pale skin, his was warmly colored to a California tan. In contrast to his dark looks, his eyes were a pale, brilliant blue, staring out at me beneath lashes that were long enough to make a make-up model jealous. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his demeanor the type of relaxed calm that only people who lived in multi-million dollar homes without mortgages could afford.

“So,” he said, as I silently studied him, “was there something you wanted of me?” He punctuated the prompt with a smile. I wished he’d stop doing that. It was eerily distracting.

Get a grip, they’re just fangs. I cleared my throat again and forced myself to focus on our reason for being here.

“We’re looking into the death of Alexa Weston,” I said.

The smile faded instantly from his face. “You’re police officers?” he asked, his gaze flicking momentarily to Marco’s fedora.

Dana shook her head beside me. “Not exactly. We’re affiliated with Crush. The nightclub where she died?”

Sebastian nodded. “I see.”

“You knew Alexa?” I asked.

Again he nodded. “Perhaps you’d better come in.”

I hesitated. Wasn’t accepting an invitation to a vampire’s house one of those things that meant he could suck your blood? Or was it inviting one into your house? Damn, it had been too long since I’d watched Lost Boys .

Reluctantly, I stepped over the threshold of the open door as Sebastian held it open, feeling Dana and Marco do the same behind me.

While the outside of the home may have resembled an old-world villa, the interior of the house was all modern Hollywood. Clean lines, sleek furnishings in organic materials, and a muted color palate. The floors were a cool, white marble, the walls a soft beige, and the artwork hanging in all directions done in large scale black and white photos of abstract architectural shapes. The overall effect was clean and crisp, yet with just enough touch of warmth to be inviting.

We followed as Sebastian led us into a room to the right where a pair of low, modern sofas in plush chenille and a pair of arm chairs sat beside an enormous window overlooking the valley. Sebastian sank into one of the chairs. “Please, have a seat,” he instructed, motioning to the sofa.

I did, perching on the edge, a little afraid that I might not be able to get up if The Bump and I sank too far in.

“Tell us about Alexa,” Dana said, jumping right in as she sat down next to me.

Sebastian lifted the corner of his mouth ever so slightly. But instead of answering turned to me and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

I cleared my throat, (a third time, for anyone who was counting), unnerved under his icy blue gaze. “Maddie. Maddie Springer. And these are my friends, Dana and Marco,” I said gesturing beside me.

But Sebastian’s level eyes never left mine. “Very pleased to meet you, Maddie.”

Why the sound of his voice running over my name should send a chill up my spine, I had no idea. But the way the word rolled off his tongue was slow, soft and almost sensual. I found myself shifting in my seat, suddenly as fidgety as a five-year-old.

“Now that the introductions are taken care of, want to answer the question?” Dana pressed.

Sebastian’s eyes lingered on me just a moment too long before slowly turning to my friend. “What do you want to know about Alexa?”

“For starters, what is your relationship to Alexa?”

“Alexa was an employee of mine,” he answered.

“In what capacity?” Dana asked.

“She was an actress.”

“So, you’re a producer?” I asked.

Confusion must have been clear in my voice as he turned to me with that half smile pulling at his lips again. “Of sorts. I produce events. Parties, I supposed you could call them. Specialty parties for a special set of clientele.”

“That’s very vague,” I pointed out.

Sebastian’s smile bloomed into a full fang-ed affair. “Yes. It is.”

Again, I felt my inner kindergartener shifting uncomfortably.

“What kind of parties are we talking here?” Dana asked.

“Oh,” Marco said piping up. “Are they…” he leaned in, stage whispering, “sex parties?”

Sebastian shook his head, amusement lighting his pale eyes. “No. Fantasy parties.”

“Like, vampire fantasies?” I asked, the pieces falling into place as I eyed the teeth again.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“What goes on at these parties?” Marco asked, his eyes glinting with a light that said he was fishing for an invitation.

Sebastian cocked his head at Marco, answering slowly. “The usual. Dining, dancing, drinking.”

“Drinking…?” I let the question hang in the air.

He smiled at me, a lopsided thing ripe with amusement. “ Cocktails . Like I said, the parties are fantasies. They’re an escape from the everyday. A chance to live in a different world, if only for one evening. A world where the fantasy of immortality reigns. Everyone stays young, and there is no death, no disease. No hangovers,” he added winking at me.

“And there are people willing to pay for this fantasy?” Dana asked.

“Oh, yes,” he answered. “You’d be surprised at the guest lists. Doctors, lawyers, politicians. The people who live the most mundane, upstanding lives are the ones with the richest cravings for escape.”

His eyes went to me on that last note, lips curling into a half smile again that hinted at some sort of shared secret.

I shifted in my seat, studiously looking away.

“And Alexa worked at these parties as what?” I asked, steering the conversation back to our purpose for being here.

“As a vampire, of course.”

Of course.

“So it’s all make believe,” I said (watching Marco’s shoulders slump with disappointment out of the corner of my eye). “The fangs are fake?” I said.

Sebastian’s eyes leveled on me again. “Mine? No, these are real.”

I paused. I wasn’t sure if this guy was putting me on or putting himself on.

“When was the last time you saw Alexa?” Dana jumped in.

Sebastian sat back in his chair, a small frown marring his otherwise smooth features. Incredibly smooth, I noticed. Suddenly I wondered how old he was. His demeanor would have me putting him somewhere close to my own early thirties, possibly older, but unless he was using some really amazing night cream the absence of lines on his face spoke to someone much younger.