Cat Adams - Demon Song

Dawna joined the group hug and we cried for long minutes until we finally laughed. Dawna wiped a long streak of mascara from her tawny cheek. “They’re really going to have to earn their money to make us look good now.”

I let out a choking laugh that was still a little bit soppy. “I’m all about value for my dollar. C’mon. Let’s go let them make us look like movie stars.”

* * *

“No, there’s no flash photography allowed until the end of the event. Sorry.” The heavyset guard at the gate before the long, winding path really did look apologetic. The burgundy red carpet and the fairy lights that followed the curves of the road were really impressive touches that made me eager to get inside. “The owners want this to be about the wine, not about who’s attending.”

I suppose it made sense, but it was sad. We looked good. Dawna’s bronze and green sparkles had obviously stolen the guard’s heart and Emma’s blonde cheerleader beauty was only enhanced by the black and gold dress that hugged her every curve. And yeah, I really did look good in silver and blue, and the dress had a built-in bra that gave me more cleavage than nature had. The stylist had even put silvery white extensions in my hair that I thought would look cheap but were amazing.

Dawna batted those big brown eyes at the guard who couldn’t keep his eyes off her long expanse of bare legs. She shifted to expose even more skin to hand him her ticket. “Could you take a picture of us … out here? That wouldn’t break any rules, would it? We just want to remember looking this good.”

It hadn’t occurred to me to bring a camera, but it had to Dawna. Her glove-clad fingers pulled a little digital out of a purse that wasn’t much bigger than the camera. “Please?”

There was no one waiting, so nobody would know. The press were a quarter of a mile down the road, waiting for the event to end. I don’t know what kind of magic they’d done to keep the press at bay, but they literally couldn’t come closer. We even saw one reporter try to pole-vault over the barrier. It had been entertaining in that ouch, that must have hurt sort of way.

We’d arrived a little late because Emma desperately needed highlights. The guard stared at Dawna and the camera with a frown. She tipped her head just a bit to show off her gorgeous neck. We all smiled winningly and he finally let out a sigh and held out a pudgy hand. She squealed and bounced and we got together in front of the winery’s sign: The Twins . He snapped two pictures and let us see them on the screen before he pulled the camera away and tucked it in a jacket pocket. “You can pick it up on the way out . I’ll be here until everybody is gone. But I’ll lose my job if I let a camera inside, and I know you don’t want that.”

Dawna wasn’t the only one who could work facial expressions. He gave such a sad puppy face pout that we had no choice but to let out little maternal noises and give him a peck on the cheek. Then he picked up his radio and said, “Three more to pick up and then we’re ready to lock the gates, Dave. All invitations accounted for.”

Wow, we really were late. Oops. It was only a moment before we heard the hum of an electric motor. A golf cart modified to look like a horse-drawn carriage—minus the horse—pulled up to the gate. The guard opened the massive silver gates and bowed us inside. I walked toward the cart and felt the moment the magic barrier pressed against me. It was an oddly familiar sensation, but I couldn’t place why. I was through in moments, but it left the hair on my arms standing on end for nearly the whole trip up the path.

“Are you cold?” Emma leaned over as we rolled down the path. “You keep rubbing your arms.”

“I just feel a little weird. Did the barrier make your skin tingle?”

They looked at each other and then shrugged with heads shaking. “No.” Dawna looked at her arm. “Not really. It felt like a barrier. Maybe you’re having a vamp reaction. I’ll bet they stepped up the oomph on security for tonight.”

That was probably it. Fortunately, I’d stashed a couple of shakes in my purse. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that wine was going to taste horrible with chocolate, so vanilla was all I’d brought. Not my favorite but definitely more Chablis friendly. I drank it quickly, then tossed the empty can into a tiny, almost-hidden trash can beside the golf cart’s drop-off point.

We’d missed the early mixer, which was probably a good thing. I hadn’t realized how many of my clients would be here. From movie stars to singers and a few politicians, it was old home week, and many eyes lit up with surprise as I walked in. No bodyguards were allowed at the premiere, and that meant I was, gasp, a guest.

Dawna likewise recognized a few people—mostly from dating them. She is so good at crashing high-end events that half of the beautiful people in L.A. probably think she’s some reclusive heiress, rather than a receptionist who’s still studying for a degree. Of course, now she really was an heiress, so it all worked out. Emma didn’t see a single familiar face, judging by her brief look of disappointment.

I took it upon myself to grab her hand and pull her forward. When she tried to pull away, Dawna realized what the problem was and grabbed her other hand. “C’mon, Em. I know just the person to introduce you to.”

I wondered who she was thinking of and started scanning the crowd. When I spotted him I smiled, because Dawna was right. He was perfect. Emma protested for just a moment until she saw the first frown from a guest. I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “We wouldn’t ever embarrass you, Em. Just give us a chance.”

Emma had always been the outgoing one in school, gorgeous and popular; I’d felt like the ugly duckling. To have the reverse happen was a bizarre feeling. But as my words sank home, she bucked up and stood straight and gave the frowning man a smile that was worthy of a homecoming queen. He let out a little chuckle and turned back to the group he was talking to.

A handsome man in the corner was our goal. He was tall and exotic looking, just the opposite of the so-American Emma. I’d guarded him on his way to a science award ceremony and Dawna had tried to date him because of his amazing looks. But she’d given up after one dinner, when he’d done nothing but talk about gene splicing.

Like I said … perfect.

“Remir? How are you?”

Emma’s mouth went wide when he turned those sapphire blue eyes our way. I didn’t blame her. It was like someone had set gemstones into a frame of aged honey pine. Gorgeous.

He reached out both hands for one of mine. “Celia Graves. What a wonderful surprise. I know so few people here.” He rolled his eyes. “Too much time in the lab, I suppose.”

“Remir, I’d like to introduce Emma Landingham. I think you two have a lot in common.” He turned his head and smiled at her and tipped his head just a bit in a how so? expression.

As I expected, Emma’s eyes had brightened. “Are you really Remir Sandrow? I loved your article in Scientific American last May. It’s no wonder you were up for the Nobel.” I hadn’t expected her to recognize Remir, but it should have occurred to me. Every field has its rock stars, and Remir was definitely one. They launched into a discussion about prokaryote cells and DNA and both Dawna and I were lost in moments. They never even saw us leave.

A gentle but piercing crystal bell caught our attention and I turned before I’d reached the next person I wanted to say hi to. I felt my heart rate speed up and let out a little internal cheer. While there’s nothing better than mingling with people in a non-work environment to cement a future work relationship, I wanted to get to the wine. The uniformed butler who had rung the bell looked as if he could be moonlighting from Buckingham Palace. “If I could have your attention, would everybody please come into the next room? We’re ready to begin.”