We followed as Sebastian led us into a room to the right where a pair of low, modern sofas in plush chenille and a pair of arm chairs sat beside an enormous window overlooking the valley. Sebastian sank into one of the chairs. “Please, have a seat,” he instructed, motioning to the sofa.
I did, perching on the edge, a little afraid that I might not be able to get up if The Bump and I sank too far in.
“Tell us about Alexa,” Dana said, jumping right in as she sat down next to me.
Sebastian lifted the corner of his mouth ever so slightly. But instead of answering turned to me and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”
I cleared my throat, (a third time, for anyone who was counting), unnerved under his icy blue gaze. “Maddie. Maddie Springer. And these are my friends, Dana and Marco,” I said gesturing beside me.
But Sebastian’s level eyes never left mine. “Very pleased to meet you, Maddie.”
Why the sound of his voice running over my name should send a chill up my spine, I had no idea. But the way the word rolled off his tongue was slow, soft and almost sensual. I found myself shifting in my seat, suddenly as fidgety as a five-year-old.
“Now that the introductions are taken care of, want to answer the question?” Dana pressed.
Sebastian’s eyes lingered on me just a moment too long before slowly turning to my friend. “What do you want to know about Alexa?”
“For starters, what is your relationship to Alexa?”
“Alexa was an employee of mine,” he answered.
“In what capacity?” Dana asked.
“She was an actress.”
“So, you’re a producer?” I asked.
Confusion must have been clear in my voice as he turned to me with that half smile pulling at his lips again. “Of sorts. I produce events. Parties, I supposed you could call them. Specialty parties for a special set of clientele.”
“That’s very vague,” I pointed out.
Sebastian’s smile bloomed into a full fang-ed affair. “Yes. It is.”
Again, I felt my inner kindergartener shifting uncomfortably.
“What kind of parties are we talking here?” Dana asked.
“Oh,” Marco said piping up. “Are they…” he leaned in, stage whispering, “sex parties?”
Sebastian shook his head, amusement lighting his pale eyes. “No. Fantasy parties.”
“Like, vampire fantasies?” I asked, the pieces falling into place as I eyed the teeth again.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“What goes on at these parties?” Marco asked, his eyes glinting with a light that said he was fishing for an invitation.
Sebastian cocked his head at Marco, answering slowly. “The usual. Dining, dancing, drinking.”
“Drinking…?” I let the question hang in the air.
He smiled at me, a lopsided thing ripe with amusement. “Cocktails. Like I said, the parties are fantasies. They’re an escape from the everyday. A chance to live in a different world, if only for one evening. A world where the fantasy of immortality reigns. Everyone stays young, and there is no death, no disease. No hangovers,” he added winking at me.
“And there are people willing to pay for this fantasy?” Dana asked.
“Oh, yes,” he answered. “You’d be surprised at the guest lists. Doctors, lawyers, politicians. The people who live the most mundane, upstanding lives are the ones with the richest cravings for escape.”
His eyes went to me on that last note, lips curling into a half smile again that hinted at some sort of shared secret.
I shifted in my seat, studiously looking away.
“And Alexa worked at these parties as what?” I asked, steering the conversation back to our purpose for being here.
“As a vampire, of course.”
Of course.
“So it’s all make believe,” I said (watching Marco’s shoulders slump with disappointment out of the corner of my eye). “The fangs are fake?” I said.
Sebastian’s eyes leveled on me again. “Mine? No, these are real.”
I paused. I wasn’t sure if this guy was putting me on or putting himself on.
“When was the last time you saw Alexa?” Dana jumped in.
Sebastian sat back in his chair, a small frown marring his otherwise smooth features. Incredibly smooth, I noticed. Suddenly I wondered how old he was. His demeanor would have me putting him somewhere close to my own early thirties, possibly older, but unless he was using some really amazing night cream the absence of lines on his face spoke to someone much younger.
“Alexa worked a private party for me two nights ago,” he answered. “That was the last time I saw her.”
“Did she leave alone?” I asked.
Sebastian paused, and I could see him carefully formulating his answer. “My actresses always leave alone. What they do once they leave here, I have no idea. That’s beyond my control as an employer.”
I raised an eyebrow. Why did I get the feeling he was being purposefully vague again?
“Did Alexa have any enemies?” Marco cut in. “Anyone who would want her dead?’
Sebastian shook his head. “Not that I know of. Then again I wasn’t on personal terms with her. She was an employee.”
“How long had she worked for you?” Dana asked.
“A few weeks.”
“And how deep into the vampire fantasy was she?” I asked.
He shrugged. “She was very good at her job. Beyond that, I can’t tell you what her preferences were, whether or not she chose to live the lifestyle outside of work.”
Whether she chose to live it or not, it had certainly been a part of her death. Which brought me to my next question…
“What do you know about sanguinarians?” I asked, pulling the term from my Moonlight education.
Sebastian turned to me, the twinkle of amusement shining in his unnaturally pale eyes again. “You mean drinking blood?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll bite.” He paused, then grinned. “No pun intended,” he added with a wink. “Sanguinarian is the technical term for a person who has an inherent thirst or physical need, that lies outside of eroticism or fetish, to drink blood. Los Angeles has the largest recorded number of sanguinarians in the United States. According to the 2010 census more than two-hundred and seventy-five thousand of them reside in southern California. Is that what you wanted to know?”
I bit my lip. And slowly nodded. Though I noticed he the use of the world “them” to describe the blood drinkers and not “we”. I wondered if it was intentional or a slip of the tongue.
“Was Alexa involved with anyone at your parties who was a sanguinarian?” I asked.
Sebastian frowned. “May I ask why you’d like to know?”
“Because she was killed last night,” Dana pointed out.
I could see thought churning behind Sebastian’s eyes, but his face was impassive enough that I couldn’t read them. “And this has to do with my parties because…?”
“She bled to death. From a pair of bite marks on her neck.”
“Messy,” he answered, his face still impassive.
“You’d think. But there actually wasn’t much blood at the scene at all.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that…” I paused. I wasn’t really sure what I was saying. It seemed silly now that I was voicing our theory out loud.
“That a vampire bit her, drank her blood, and killed her,” Marco finished for me, never one to worry about looking silly.
Sebastian looked from Marco to me to Dana, then back to me again. “And you’re here to accuse me?”
“If the fangs fit,” Marco said, with a lot more bravado than I currently felt, pinned to my seat by those intensely pale eyes.
But while I might have expected Sebastian to get defensive when being accused of sucking the life out of a person, he seemed as cool and calm as he had since we entered his modern lair.
“I’m sorry, but you’re way off track,” he told Marco.
“So point us to the right one,” I offered. “Who might have done this to Alexa?”
He shook his head. “Like I said, I wasn’t privy to her personal life.”
“Do you know who might have been?” I asked. “She had a friend with her last night. A redhead?”
“Becca?” Sebastian asked.
Bingo. “Do you have a last name for Becca?”
“Diamond. She worked for me as well. Why?” he asked.
I hesitated to tell him that she was as of now suspect nurermo uno. “She may have been the last one to see Alexa alive.”
Sebastian frowned. “That’s troubling.”
I’ll say.
“So, Becca is one of your vampires, too?” Dana clarified.
“Actress. But, yes, she plays that role.”
Maybe one Becca took too seriously. Had she fought with Alexa over something? Had she bitten her and – my stomach rolled at the thought – actually drained her friend of blood? “Do you know where we can find her?” I asked.
Sebastian nodded. “I can look up her personnel file. Excuse me for a movement.” He got up and moved from the room.
As soon as the three of us were alone, Marco leaned forward. “Did you see how he floated out of here?”
“He didn’t float. He walked. Gracefully,” I added.
“Did anyone notice if he had a reflection as he walked past the artwork? Did you see him in the glass?”
I rolled my eyes. “He is not a vampire, Marco.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” Mostly.
Marco opened his mouth to argue, but before he could make another case for the undead, Sebastian returned, a slip of paper in hand.
“Here’s the phone number and address we have on file for Becca,” he said handing the paper to me. I cringed in anticipation of a cold, clammy hand but was met with normal flesh. I gave myself a mental shake. I’d been watching too much Moonlight.
“Thanks,” I said, slipping it into my purse as I rose.
“I would appreciate it if you would keep me apprised of your findings,” Sebastian said as he led us back toward the front door. “And please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
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