Simone snorted while the makeup girl brushed her hair. "Why do you continue with this charade, mon ami? You refused to have sex with me. You must be gay."

His mouth dropped open. The crew started whispering, latching on to this tasty morsel of gossip. Shit. "Simone, have you been spreading rumors about me?"

"No, of course not." She waved a hand dramatically. "I know how much you enjoy your reputation as a young playboy. But really, mon ami, you should stop acting so cowardly and admit the truth. You'll feel much better for it."

Cowardly? He reached into his pocket for a stress ball. Dammit, he'd left them all at the office.

It was true that he'd rejected Simone without giving her much of a reason, but it hadn't seemed diplomatic at the time to be honest. He simply wasn't attracted to her. And he wasn't gung-ho over the prospect of being lover number five hundred and sixty-three. Simone actually kept count in her journal. Along with a rating from one to ten.

She'd shown him the journal several times. It was rare, she'd pointed out, for a man to score over a five. That was why she was burdened with the sad task of trying out hundreds in order to find a few who were worthy.

He'd let her down as gently as possible since he needed to stay friendly with the celebrities of the vampire world so he could be successful in his career. And right now, success meant getting the damned commercial recorded. That meant he couldn't afford to insult Simone or Pennington, who was still regarding him with a hopeful smile. Damn, the bull crap he put up with for his job.

"I - " His Droid vibrated. Thank God. "I've got to take this. Excuse me." He paced across the studio. "Hey, Angus. Excellent timing. So do you have a day guard you can send?"

"Aye," Angus replied. "I asked Robby and some of the lads to teleport over there and leave Rajiv."

"Great. Thanks, dude."

"We're just about done here with our plan of action. Talk to you soon." Angus hung up.

They had a plan. Excellent! Gregori smiled as he pocketed his phone.

Gordon rushed back into the studio. "We aired the announcement. Vamps are already teleporting into the lobby."

"How many can you take in?" Gregori asked.

"Sly thinks we can take in hundreds," Gordon referred to Sylvester, the station manager. "We have six large studios and an enormous basement."

"Great!" Gregori gave everyone a thumbs-up. "You'll all be safe with Rajiv watching out for you. He's a were-tiger who can shift whenever he wants."

"A were-tiger?" The makeup artist's eyes grew wide. "Oh my. He sounds so . . ."

"Sexy," Pennington whispered.

Gregori winced. At least the Vamps would be dead during the day, so Rajiv wouldn't have to fight off a bunch of advances. He slapped his hands together. "So now that everybody's happy, how about we get this commercial done?"

The crew shouted a victory cheer.

"Places!" Gordon shouted, and everyone scurried into position on or off set. "Let's do it, people! Mark it."

"Take number seventy-two." A crew member clapped the sticks together on the slate.

Simone lounged on the ivory satin settee and leaned toward Pennington. Her eyes burned with hot passion. "I have a hunger that cannot be denied."

Pennington flipped his hair back to expose his neck. "Take me. My body, my blood - I'm all yours."

She ripped open his shirt. One of the buttons popped off and hit her in the eye.

"Ack!" She jumped to her feet, catching the boom operator by surprise and ramming her head into the large microphone suspended over them.

"Aarrgh!" She collapsed on the floor.

Everyone stared at her unconscious body for a few silent seconds.

"Cut," Gordon muttered.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Robby MacKay strode into the studio.

"No," the entire crew moaned.

"Rajiv is in the lobby." Robby did a double take at Simone's unconscious body. "We left a few cases of Chocolood and Bleer in the lobby so no one will go hungry."

"Chocolood?" The makeup artist ran from the room.

"Free Bleer!" The male crew members dashed after her.

Robby motioned to Simone. "Is she all right?"

Gregori sighed. "She will be. I'll teleport her back to the townhouse."

Robby shook his head. "Leave her be. Angus and Roman want you at Romatech."

"I'll drop her off on the way - "

"Nay," Robby interrupted. "They want you there now."

Now? The sun would be up in less than an hour. What was so important that it couldn't wait another night? Gregori turned to Gordon. "If Simone comes to, tell her I was called away. We'll try again tomorrow."

Gordon grimaced. "Must we?"

"Yes, I'll - "

"I said now," Robby interrupted Gregori and gave him a stern look.

"Okay! Don't get your panties in a wad." He glanced at Robby's green and blue plaid kilt. "If you even wear underwear."

Robby frowned as he grabbed on to Gregori's arm. "Let's go."

Gregori stiffened with surprise. He was being escorted? What was the big hurry -  His thoughts cut off as everything went black.

Chapter Two

The big strategy meeting had to be over. Gregori spotted about a dozen Coven Masters leaving the Romatech conference room as Robby ushered him down the hall.

He pulled his arm from Robby's steel-like grip. "Look, dude, tell me what's going on."

Robby shrugged one shoulder. "Angus told me to bring you here now."

"Yeah, I got the now part." Gregori noted most of the Coven Masters were teleporting away. No doubt they wanted to leave New York before sunrise. He nodded at two who remained in the hall. "Hey, guys. What's up?"

Rafferty McCall shook his hand. "Great idea about making emergency shelters."

"Thanks," he answered the West Coast Coven Master. Was that why he'd been summoned? They might need his help coordinating shelters across the world.

"I should get back to Louisiana." Colbert GrandPied slapped Gregori on the shoulder. "Bonne chance, mon ami."

"Aye," Rafferty agreed. "Good luck to you, lad."

"For what?" Gregori asked, but the two Coven Masters teleported away.

"Why do I need luck all of a sudden?" Gregori asked Robby, but the Scottish vampire merely opened the conference room door and motioned for him to enter.

Gregori tamped down on his frustration. If there was any luck to be had, he sure as hell wasn't getting any. The commercial was a disaster. Thanks to Simone, everyone at DVN would be spreading a rumor that he was gay. And then there was that little matter of the Vampire Apocalypse and their imminent deaths at the hands of wild-eyed mortals driven into a murderous frenzy by Corky's damned video. An irritating prickle on the back of his neck warned him that it was about to get even worse.

If there was one thing he hated, it was walking into a situation uninformed and unprepared. He was accustomed to succeeding at whatever project he was assigned to, and as far as he was concerned, the secret to success was information. He liked to have all the facts beforehand, everything thoroughly researched, documented, and organized into strategic plans of action. He never walked into a conference room empty-handed . . . like he was doing now. Hell, he didn't even know what this meeting was about.

Out of habit, he reached into his pocket for a stress ball, but no luck. He'd just have to bluff his way through, show them some positive attitude. Stay cool. Act like you belong. It's the best way to fit in.

He slipped his tie back into place, then marched purposefully into the conference room. The long table was empty except at the far end, where five Vamps stopped their whispering to look at him.

He smiled. "You wanted to see me?"

No smiles in return. The prickle on the back of his neck grew more insistent. He'd known these guys for years. Why were they studying him like he was some sort of specimen?

At the head of the table his boss, Roman Draganesti, nodded his head slightly. Sitting to Roman's left was Jean-Luc Echarpe, who retained his title of Coven Master of Western Europe even though he spent most of his time in Texas and only teleported to Paris once a month to preside over Coven Court. Next to him sat Zoltan Czakvar, CM for Eastern Europe, headquartered in Budapest. On Roman's right, Angus MacKay narrowed his eyes. He was not only head of MacKay Security and Investigation, but also CM for the British Isles.

Next to Angus, Sean Whelan sat with a fierce scowl on his face. Actually that wasn't so unusual. Gregori had never seen Sean Whelan when the guy wasn't scowling. First he'd been pissed that his daughter Shanna had married Roman. Then he'd been livid when his other daughter Caitlyn had married Carlos and become a were-panther. His head had nearly exploded when Shanna's husband had transformed her into a vampire. Tough news for a guy who was the leader of the CIA Stake-Out team, dedicated to killing vampires. And if that wasn't bad enough, Sean had gotten himself mortally wounded fighting vampires, so Roman had transformed him.

No one was sure how Sean would react to becoming the creature he hated the most, but Shanna had begged her husband to save him. Sean had been a vampire less than a week now, but he appeared to be taking it in stride. Apparently his desire to survive was stronger than his desire to kill Vamps.

"Sit down, please." Roman motioned to the end of the table.

A mile away from them? Why did he feel like a lab rat in one of Roman's scientific experiments? Gregori took a seat and rested his forearms on the table. "So do you need my help coordinating emergency shelters?"

"Nay," Angus said.

"Each Coven Master is responsible for the safety of the Vamps in his region," Roman explained. "I appreciate your help with my area. I've been . . . distracted with other matters."

Gregori nodded and adjusted his cuff links. "Then you devised a plan of action?"

Roman gestured to his father-in-law. "Sean is using his government contacts to negotiate a deal."

"We're waiting on approval from the president," Sean said. "I've arranged for us to meet with the president and his advisors tonight after sunset."

"What kind of deal are you talking about?" Gregori asked.

"Basically, we're asking the government to declare the vampire video a hoax and state categorically that vampires do not exist," Sean explained.

"So the government would lie to the people," Gregori muttered. "That's new for a change."

Roman frowned disapprovingly at him. "Surely you can understand why we need this lie."

Sean leaned toward Angus and whispered, "He won't do."

"Aye, he will," Angus insisted quietly.

The prickle on Gregori's neck crept down his spine.

"Sean, the sun will rise soon," Roman said quietly. "You should see Shanna and the children while you still can."

Sean glared at his son-in-law, then slowly rose to his feet. "Don't think you can leave me out of the loop."

"We appreciate your help," Roman told him. "We'll let you know our final decision."

Sean snorted, then glanced at Gregori. "I'll talk to you tonight after sunset." He strode from the room.

Gregori watched the door shut, then turned back to face Roman. "I won't be here. I'm shooting a commercial for Blardonnay."

"They'll have to do it without you," Roman said.

Gregori sat back. "But they need - "

"Like Sean said, we need approval from the president," Roman added.

Gregori shrugged. "What has that - "

"Is it true that all your meals have been bottled?" Jean-Luc interrupted him.

What? What did his eating habits have to do with this?

"You're very young for a Vamp," Jean-Luc explained. "By the time you were transformed, we already had synthetic blood. So are we correct in assuming you've taken all your meals from bottles?"

What the hell? They were on the verge of a Vampire Apocalypse and these guys wanted to tease him again for being a bottle-fed baby?

"Lad," Angus grumbled impatiently. "We need to know if ye've ever bitten anyone."

He moved his hands into his lap so they wouldn't see him clenching his fists. "My fangs work just fine."

Zoltan leaned forward. "Then you have bitten someone?"

This was getting too damned personal. "I have never bitten for food. And I've never bitten a mortal."

"Good. I thought so." Roman nodded approvingly, then glanced at the other CMs. "Gregori has always taken the Romatech mission statement quite seriously. Make the world safe for mortals and Vamps alike."

"Ye have never given a mortal reason to fear you?" Angus asked.

Gregori's jaw shifted. Did they think he was some kind of wimp? "I'm sure I have, but they don't remember it. I always wipe memories and clean up after myself."

Roman nodded again. "For a young Vamp, Gregori has shown an impressive talent for mind control."

Again with how young he was. Gregori gritted his teeth. Next they would congratulate him for being potty trained.

"He also has an excellent track record for getting a job done," Roman continued.

Gregori arched a brow. "Am I applying for a new job?"

"Have you ever fought in battle?" Zoltan pressed. "Ever killed anyone?"

Gregori glared at him. "Why? Are you looking for an assassin? I left my resume at home with my AK - 47."