Page 2 of How to Stake a Vampire
“I was,” Bo contributed cheerfully. “Abby gave me extra treats that day.”
My belly clenched when I met Samuel’s hot gaze. We’d both really enjoyed the handcuffs.
Luckily, I was distracted by the looming building we were approaching.
The Amberford Chamber of Commerce looked like someone had taken a respectable colonial building and gone to town with the embellishments. The original redbrick facade was populated with gargoyles along the roofline and there were enough decorative cornices and pediments on the thing to make an architecture professor faint in horror.
I eyeballed the assortment of vehicles in the parking lot we were crossing with a degree of dread.
A sleek black hearse sat next to a Bentley with tinted windows so dark they were probably illegal. A vintage Rolls-Royce that looked like it belonged in a museum was parked beside a monster of a motorcycle. A pink Cadillac huddled beside a midnight-blue Bugatti.
Bo panted noisily beside me, his face alight with the unhealthy glow of automobile adoration.
“He watched a show on vintage cars again last night,” I explained at the others’ stares.
Samuel rolled his eyes. By now, the entire Hawthorne pack knew about Bo’s addiction to the Discovery channel.
“Maybe you should buy him a toy car,” Pearl suggested in the casual tone of someone who’d never worked for a dime in her life.
Bo studied me hopefully.
I frowned. “You’re afraid of the vacuum cleaner.”
“A vacuum cleaner is not a car,” my dog shot back wisely. He stiffened and sniffed the air as we neared the entrance to the Chamber of Commerce. His tail drooped. “This place smells like a funeral home.” He moved closer to me.
“Some of the Alliance members are old,” Pearl declared with a swish of her tail.
That wasn’t sinister at all. An ominous creak distracted me from my spiraling thoughts of doom.
A doorman who looked like he moonlighted as a bouncer at an exclusive club was opening the heavy oak doors for us. His scent marked him as a werewolf. He wore a bored look that suggested he’d seen enough supernatural politics and drama in his lifetime to remain permanently unimpressed by anything short of an actual apocalypse.
His expression changed when he saw me. He visibly paled.
I swallowed a sigh.
My reputation as a white luna had been making the rounds in Amberford’s supernatural community. I had to admit I wasn’t exactly crazy about my newfound fame. It made for awkward situations and even more awkward conversations. It didn’t help that I had incapacitated the cream of Amberford’s society a short while back with a single command and everyone was now busy pretending that never happened.
A discreet brass plaque beside the main doors readAmberford Chamber of Commerce: Serving Our Community Since 1868. My gaze landed on the small inscription beneath it.
It saidAll Species Welcome.
No doubt that one was only visible to supernatural creatures.
“Good evening, Mrs. Hawthorne,” the doorman said with a skittish nod. “The Alliance is gathering in theTwilight Conference Room.” He glanced nervously at my hands, as if expecting to see the crystal skull I had used to immobilize Amberford’s supernatural elite at the now-infamous Holt ball.
I gave the guy a friendly smile. He gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing wildly and eyes darting sideways as if looking for an escape route.
“Maybe try not to smile at anyone when we’re in the conference room,” Victoria suggested diplomatically as we entered the building.
I sagged a little. Samuel patted my arm.
This was going to be a long night.
The lobby was grand and what you’d expect from a building that hosted both human business meetings and supernatural summits. Tasteful artwork lined the walls and expensive rugs covered polished hardwood floors. A crystal chandelier cast warm light over leather furniture that looked like it had been designed for both comfort and confidentiality.
But what caught my attention and drew me up short were the smells. Layers of supernatural scents danced in the air, creating a complex bouquet that made my enhanced nose twitch. Vampires, werewolves, witches, fae, dwarves, pixies, dragon newts, and things I couldn’t yet identify all mingled together in an olfactory signature that screamed “powerful people making important decisions.”
Bo whined softly and pressed against my leg.
