The Vampire Always Bites Twice | Wattys 2022 Grand Prize Winner

23

Our server returned. Tiny of bubbles of guilt fizzed under my skin just like the ones floating in my champagne. Had things gone that bad with Britney? I thought we got a lot of useful stuff out of her.

"I was helping," I said between sips. "Britney wasn't opening up to you! But I gave her a gal pal and she spilled her guts like a soothsayer's goat. Without you having to brain melt her."

Greg took a generous gulp from his glass. "Follow my lead, I said."

"Yep."

"Let me, the professional, talk."

"You didn't talk much to Sloane."

"I was biding us time and trying not to get us kicked out before this meeting. Trust me, I wouldn't have let things get out of hand. You're safe... Sorry about your hair."

He didn't look at me. Didn't groan or chew his lip or a run a hand through that thick, luscious, wavy hair of his. His stillness made the room chillier.

"Fine. Maybe I overstepped a tad. My b. But Britney talked 'cause of me, bucko."

"Nah, you're right."

"I said my b—huh?"

Greg exhaled, making a cute raspberry noise between his lips as he did.

"You overstepped, but she didn't trust me, and you got her to talk, without melting her brain, so," he nudged me with his elbow. "Nice work, Watson."

My cheeks felt all hot and tingly. "Oh. Thanks."

"Hey, what was Sloane talking about?"

"Being a jealous bitch?"

"You threatened one of her regulars with a two-century old property dispute, was it?"

I shifted awkwardly in my seat. "You have a good memory."

"What's that mean?"

"Nothing," I shrugged and sipped my champagne. "Another vamp, sleazeball type, tried to woo me after you left the table. I may have channeled a spirit to get him to mind his business."

Greg's brows furrowed as he stared into his drink. "How?"

"I lit thirteen candles and drew a pentagram in puppy's blood on the underside of the table."

The corner of his mouth gave the slightest quirk. "That must have been quite the show."

An uncomfortable prickle rolled down my neck, tightening up in my shoulders and chest. He didn't believe me. Still. He was right, on some level. So called psychics and mediums were pretty much, almost always, definitely humans faking supernatural abilities. Everybody in Society knew it. They almost never doled out shoddy Tourism and Entertainment licenses to self-proclaimed psychics. Lucky for me my usual clientele were gullible humans. Never expected I'd have to hang on to this schtick for a professional snoop of a vampire.

I threw a hand to my forehead and pretended to swoon.

"Fine, officer, you caught me bloody handed. I'm a lowly human playing pretend with my crystal balls and Hasbro spirit boards. I crack my toes and voila it's a ghost wrapping on my chamber door."

"Mm, I'll let you off with a warning. This time. But you should drive safer around these parts." Greg took a drink. "Seriously, Isla. You can't go spinning stories about vampires to their faces. Some of these suckers have lived so long, you could have said any cheap fortune teller zingers and you'd hit a nail in someone's coffin."