My Vampire Lover by J. P. Bowie Page A

enthusiasm. "Why didn't I think of that? What d'you think, Jerry?"
From the shining in his eyes, I could tell young Jerry thought it was a helluva idea. I sighed. Who knew I could play at being a yenta?
* * * *
     
The apartment seemed very empty and flat after they'd left. I felt lonely ... and needy. I glanced at my watch. Four o'clock. Would Jean-Claude be awake yet? I could leave a message if he didn't pick up...
    He picked up.
"Jean-Claude."
"Hello, Ron. I thought it might be you." His sexy accent in my ear gave me a hard on.
"I'm not calling too early, am I?"
"No. How are you?"
"Great."
"You have something to tell me, I think."
How did he know that? "I do? Wait ... I thought you said you couldn't read thoughts."
His low chuckle made my toes curl. "Would you like to come over, and tell me all about your day?"
"You won't get mad and try to zap me?"
"I won't get mad. Come over."
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"Be right there."
Quickly, I pulled off my conservative church-going costume and headed for the shower. Had to be all clean and shiny.
    I crooned a happy, snappy number as the hot water tumbled all around me. I didn't hear the front door being jimmied open, nor did I see the shadows of the two men as they entered my bathroom. I gave a startled yelp as the shower curtain was suddenly yanked back, and I was hauled bodily from the shower. A punch to my stomach doubled me over with pain.
    "That's for earlier," a voice growled, then something hit me on the head, and the world went away.
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My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie

Chapter Six
    When I came to, I was lying on a bare mattress in a darkened room. I stayed still, trying to remember what had happened. Oh yeah ... two guys in my bathroom. One of them had been the jerk I'd punched before Jerry and I had made a run for it. He'd looked familiar, but how had they found out where I lived? Too bad they hadn't tried to break in when Barney was still there. He'd have made mincemeat outta them. They'd obviously expected to find me there alone with Jerry.
Damn, but my head hurt. I groaned as I sat up, the pain arcing through my skull like a steel knife. I stood up, weaving groggily. I wasn't tied, and someone had thought to throw a pair of shorts on me.
    "Hello?" I called out through the locked door.
I heard a shuffling sound from the other side then a voice.
"Back away from the door."
I backed away. The tall guy who'd punched me in the stomach stood in the doorway, a sneer on his face and a gun in his hand. Too bad he was such a jerk, he was kinda cute.
    His eyes gleamed as he glared at me.
"How'd you know where to find me?" I asked him.
"You work at La Fortuna," he replied. "I've been there a couple of times, so when I saw you with the kid, I thought I recognised you. A phone call to the restaurant from your 'out-of-town cousin just here for the day' snagged your address without a problem."
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"I thought you looked familiar, too," I said. "Too bad we're not more fussy about who we serve."
His sneer got bigger. "Smart ass."
I flexed my chest muscles. "You want me, don't you?" I taunted him. "I can see through that expression of disgust, y'know." "Shut up," he rasped. "The Reverend wants to speak to you. If I were you, I wouldn't get too cute with him."
"Yeah, I know ... he's mean and nasty. D'you get off on that S 'n' M stuff?"
He scowled. "I said, shut up." He grabbed at my arm.
"Let's go." He pulled me out into a long corridor then pushed me forward ahead of him. "Third door on the right. You're expected."
    The Reverend Delano sat at a giant mahogany desk set in the middle of a large well-furnished room. The interior of his church might be enough to give Christopher Lowell a heart attack, but Delano's own private domain was tastefully decorated in muted colours and expensive furniture. He cast an ugly look at me as his fellow basher pushed me through the door.
"You're a friend of my son?" He stood and walked