The Real Werewives of Vampire County

“Oh,” gasped Alexis, carefully wiping tears of laughter from under her eyes so as not to smudge her mascara, “oh, that’s terrible! I’m so sorry!”



Heather, once she got her sniggering under control, put a sympathetic hand on Tiffany’s arm. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll find you someone better. There are plenty of men in the pa—from the party who are single. There’s Damon or Michael or, oh, I’ll bet you’d get along great with—”



“Enough, darling, she probably doesn’t remember the names of half the men she was introduced to at the party,” Alexis said with saccharine sweetness, the underlying warning completely going over Heather’s head as she pouted at being interrupted. Tiffany didn’t seem to mind.



“I’m not so sure I’m interested anymore,” she replied.



Vera smirked. “How terrible for you. No one to take care of you ... All alone in the world.”



“I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I do just fine on my own.”



“You say that now. I wonder why you tried so hard to pretend not to be interested at the party? Phillip and Travis certainly didn’t seem to mind your attention—and no matter what you say, I’ll bet the entire time you were thinking about what you could get out of it.”



Tiffany’s jaw clenched and spots of color rose high on her cheekbones. Vera idly traced her index finger through the condensation on her glass before pushing it away and rising.



Alexis and Heather gave Vera exasperated looks. Cassandra ignored Vera as she walked toward the ladies’ room, hips swaying.



“Don’t mind her,” Cassandra said. “She’s just PMSing because she isn’t the center of attention.”



Tiffany pouted after Vera’s retreating form, though her icy blue eyes gleamed with calculation under the mask of hurt. “I wouldn’t mind so much if I knew why she took such a dislike to me. Does she think I’m competition? I thought she was married.”



“Vera’s always had a thing for Travis,” Alexis mused, stirring her drink as she leaned back in her chair and gave one of the waiters watching her from across the room an excellent view of her crossed legs as she adjusted her skirt just so. “Maybe she’s peeved that he’s given up on her and taken an interest in you.”



“No, no, it isn’t that. She’s had a problem with her from the start. I think she’s pissed because you’re single and successful enough to live in our neighborhood without the benefit of a man to pay your way,” Heather declared.



The others regarded Heather with new respect for her astute observation.



“But,” she added, ruining the moment, “we still need to set you up with someone nice. I’ll bet you an experienced man like Phillip would last longer than the playboys like Travis, anyway.”



Tiffany nearly spewed her drink, covering her mouth with one hand while the other reached for a napkin to blot her lips. Cassandra and Alexis were too busy giggling over the thought to be of any help, all of them gasping and laughing. Talk turned to simpler, less dangerous topics—what was coming up on tomorrow’s daytime soaps, the scandalously awful shoes one of the women wore to the party, and whether they should go shopping or barhopping after they ate. Even Vera was civil when she returned, keeping most of her snarky comments limited to her observations about the fashion faux pas several of Alexis’s guests made at the party.



Cassandra came very close to pulling the contract out of her purse to slide across the table to put in Tiffany’s hands. All that stopped her were Vera or Tiffany’s occasional comments that cut through the air of camaraderie. Just when things would settle down, one of them would slip, and they would bristle at each other until Heather or Alexis changed the subject.



Finally, exasperated, Cassandra turned to Tiffany and bluntly invited her on a coffee date—alone—the next day so they could have a private chat.



“Oh,” Tiffany said, looking uncertainly between Heather and Cassandra, “we were going to go to one of those Botox parties tomorrow afternoon.”



“We’ll reschedule,” Heather said quickly upon catching Cassandra’s look.



“Oh. Oh, all right, then.”



“Excellent,” Cassandra said, a sly smile curving her lips.



CHAPTER 7



If the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.



—Abraham H. Maslow



Four timber wolves raced through the shadows of a New Jersey forest, hunting under a gibbous moon. Save for the occasional chirp of insects or hoot of an owl, all was quiet, the denizens of the forest knowing better than to explore with predators such as these on the prowl.



Until Alexis scrabbled over a large rock and snagged a claw, breaking it.



The others came to a halt as she tumbled to a stop in a snarling bundle of teeth and bristling fur. Cassandra padded over to investigate, sniffing as Alexis held out the offending paw, whimpering. After giving the wound a lick, Cassandra turned back in the direction of her home, where they had started their run. Vera and Heather both whined at having their playtime cut short, but after an authoritative bark from Cassandra, quieted and followed without further complaint.



Vera and Heather still frolicked on the way back, chasing after the occasional mouse or other small creature stirred up by their passing. Cassandra stayed beside Alexis, ignoring her plaintive whines and exaggerated limp.



They emerged from the shadows of the birch and evergreens bordering Cassandra’s property, lying down on the smooth carpet of grass that led right up to the woods. Sleek fur rippled and twitched, and the grinding and popping of bones and sinews rearranging rang out as the four wolves began their change back to human.



Vera groaned as the last joint snapped back into place, watching with a critical eye as her claws receded. “Damn. I’m going to have to get these done again.”



Alexis’s fur ruffled as she gave Vera an irritated curl of her lip before completing her change. The other ladies didn’t answer; they were too busy with their own shifts from wolf to human to respond. Heather chuffed, blowing like a bellows as she collapsed on her side, having run harder than the others.



The thick fur slowly withdrew into Alexis’s skin, talons and paws gradually lengthening and softening into human hands again. She quickly lifted her arm, squinting in the moonlight as she examined her nails.



“Ugh, my whole nail cracked. Gross! I guess we were all due for a mani-pedi, anyway,” she said. “We can go after Cassie meets with Tiffany.”



Heather rubbed her jaw, popping it and speaking around fangs that had not quite finished reforming into flat human teeth. “Are you going to give her the contract this time? I saw it sticking out of your purse at the restaurant earlier.”



Cassandra rolled her ankles to get the joints to set properly, ignoring Vera’s scowl. “Yes. I wanted to give it to her then, but it didn’t seem like the right time. I thought it might be better if I spoke to her one-on-one instead of having the whole group there to pressure her.”



“You’re making a mistake, Cassandra,” Vera said. “She isn’t pack material. I don’t know why none of you are listening to me.”



“We aren’t listening because there’s no basis for your concern! You keep saying she’s a threat, but you won’t talk to her yourself and don’t back up what you’re saying with anything that proves she has any intention of hurting us,” Heather snapped.



Taken aback, Vera stared for a moment, mouth agape. She first looked to Alexis, then Cassandra for help or sympathy, and found none. Both were shaking their head at her, agreeing with Heather.



“Well,” Vera said, settling back in the grass and steepling her fingers, “I’m still looking for something that proves what I already know to be the case. I told you all that I know I’ve seen her somewhere before. I think she has a connection to the hunters in New York. It’s not easy digging up information on them, you know.”



“What makes you think so, though? She said she was interested in meeting a werewolf, not killing one.”



“I’ve seen her somewhere before. Maybe on the news, or somewhere on the Internet. Not here.”



“Are you sure it’s her?”



Taking offense at the tone of the question, Vera bristled, glaring at Cassandra. “Almost positive.”



“Almost positive is not sure,” Cassandra said, rising and sauntering to the lounge chairs where they had laid out their clothing. She shrugged on her shirt, not bothering to button it up. “We can’t assume anything when it comes to the welfare of the pack.”



“Then that should go both ways! We don’t know for sure that she’s not a threat.”



“No, but we do know she has an interest in werewolves, and that our pack will grow stagnant and gradually disappear if we don’t add new members to it. We can’t afford to let someone interested slip through our fingers. I will ask her what her intentions are, and offer the contract. If she wants to use it against us, then I promise you I will kill her myself.”



Vera subsided, mostly satisfied. Heather, now in jeans and a light T-shirt, shifted her weight and wouldn’t meet Cassandra’s eyes.