Bad Blood: A VamPR Nightmare (Pisces Paranormal PR Agency Book 1)

by Bee Murray

  Employing Tuesday to solve this problem was a mistake, and this whole thing was probably going down in flames, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not having her here.

  I’m a selfish, murdering prick. I don’t deserve her or anyone else.

  We used to talk about the future we would have during the day and lose ourselves in each other when the sun went down. I’d fucked that all up.

  “Earth to Vinnie. I need your input, oh supreme jackass.”

  Tuesday frowned at me with a familiar look of exasperation on her face. Apparently, she had asked me something. I doubt it was to go into the broom closet and fuck. More’s the pity.

  “Yes?”

  I forced myself to pay attention to the situation at hand.

  “I said, do you have any enemies who would attack you or have reason to harm you?”

  Baldwin and I laughed at the same time.

  I was no saint.

  People who would want to attack me? A dime a dozen. Such is the life of an international star. But the more I thought of it, the only person with any compelling reason to harm me was sitting right in front of me.

  “Have you said anything particularly offensive to anyone of late? Had any threats? Do you have anything even remotely helpful we can use?”

  I pondered for a full minute, trying to think back on my previous interviews. Finally, I shrugged and shook my head. My public persona was carefully designed so that I always appeared aloof and mysterious. I rarely gave interviews, especially not in person, and was never seen around town without a scheduled event to attend.

  Tuesday’s lips pressed into a thin line and her narrow gaze had me wondering if she was plotting my death. Good luck, cupcake. It might do the world a favor.

  “Baldwin,” she finally spoke, “What was the reasoning behind keeping Vinnie’s condition a secret?”

  My manager glanced at me and then back to Tuesday.

  “We did some polling—test marketing, focus groups, that sort of thing. There is a lot of anti-vampire sentiment out there. We believed at the time that alerting the public to his status would be detrimental to his career.”

  And the label’s bottom line.

  I knew all of this, but it still rubbed me the wrong way.

  Tuesday nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, but surely that sentiment has died down a bit? We’re hearing of more and more vampires in high-visibility positions. People in the public eye. Politicians. Industry players. Was there any other reason that factored into spinning him as a reclusive eccentric, rather than a jackass who happened to be a blood-sucking vampire? Sales of vampire fiction and cult TV shows featuring sexy vampire love interests are at an all-time high.”

  I looked at Baldwin in surprise. I had never considered that I could go public and be well-received, but my manager just pursed his lips and shook his head.

  “Do you know how many hate-groups that target vampires are active in the Seattle area? Twelve. They boast substantial membership, their social media followings are skyrocketing, and they’re actively recruiting. Two of them, Outlaw Vampire Alliance and the Vanquish Vampire Vigilantes have had highly publicized incidents where they attempted to stake ordinary vampires going about their business. Assassination attempts. Kidnappings. And that’s just in the Puget Sound. Cainin Records and I agreed we would not court any… controversy unless it was absolutely necessary. His status as a vampire is on a strictly need-to-know basis.”

  Tuesday nodded and pursed her lips as she tapped away at her iPad to make more notes. I used to love watching her when she would get like this. Tuesday had always had a brilliant mind. She saw the world like a giant puzzle, and I knew she was enjoying putting together these pieces.

  The pulse point on her neck drew my attention again. The sound of the steady beat of her heart and the rush of blood in her veins was like listening to the sweetest melody. It called to me and I knew there would never be any lyrics I could write that would do that beauty justice. My monster perked up, suddenly interested in exploring the object of my intensity and I gritted my teeth to keep him at bay.

  “I’ve got it!” She sat up straight and tapped her stylus against the iPad triumphantly. A pile of loose papers covered in her handwriting spread out in front of her and I blinked in confusion. “Here’s what we’re going to do!” She looked over at me, not bothering to hide the scorn on her face as she gestured towards her pile of papers. “Pay attention, dickface. I’m only going to explain this once.”

  She turned her attention to the pale man in the expensive, but still somehow ill-fitting, floral shirt. “Baldwin. The bodies of his... victims… they’re still in the house, correct?”

  My manager nodded; his expression grim.

  “Good. Your clean-up crew is going to put them all back in their beds,” she said firmly.

  Her face was devoid of all expression. Detached. It was like she was talking about taking out the laundry, not… bodies. Impressive.

  “Make it look natural... as much as possible anyway. Any vampire paraphernalia must be removed from the house. No blood bags or issues of Vampire Monthly or anything else. Find out if anyone on staff had strong vampire political feelings or opinions—either way. Once they set the stage, no one goes in without checking with me first. This may take a day or two to pull off and those bodies are going to get rank.“

  Baldwin got out his phone and started barking orders into it.

  “Tank and Truck…” She pointed at my bodyguards and then grimaced. “Sorry, I don’t know your actual names, but you two look like resourceful men of action. Do you think you could find some explosives on short notice?”

  The bodyguards froze the minute she addressed them. A small, grim smile flashed across Tank’s face and he turned to talk to Truck. They had a brief, whispered argument with vigorous hand gestures. But in the end, an agreement was reached. Truck turned to her and gave her a thumbs up while Tank pulled out his phone and started texting furiously.

  “I’m Sergio, and that’s Cole. We can get explosives. Do you know what kind you need and how many?” Truck, otherwise known as Sergio, looked at her expectantly.

  She smiled and made eye contact with me. My fangs descended without warning, and I struggled to stay seated.

  “Enough to level the entire house.”

  Sergio grunted his assent and turned back to Cole. The conversation between the two of them was too faint for me to follow. Tuesday’s little announcement stunned me to my core. I couldn’t begin to care much about their logistics discussion while I was still processing that. Blow up my house?! That’s preposterous! It’s a custom-built, multi-million dollar property with private waterfront access. My first purchase as a megawatt star. Who blows something like that up?!

  But she wasn’t done.

  “Kelly, get your content and social media teams ready. Wake up whoever you need to. We’re going to get ahead of this and start some rumors. Coordinate with my office so we can leak an article, maybe a blog post, and attribute it to Vinnie. Post-date it so that it can be pulled up and they can talk about his pro-vamp views surfacing. Make it appeal to the common good. Something... innocuous that expresses sympathy for the vampire-infected population. If you can, Photoshop him in front of one of the vamp clubs downtown. Get that trending on Twitter and the morning rags ASAP. I want it to hit the wire immediately.” The woman with pink hair nodded and started making calls.

  “Sergio and Cole, as soon as the explosives are ready and the clean up crew has left, you’ll go in and put them into position. You need to set them so it looks like an amateur got really, really lucky.” The two men exchanged meaningful looks. “If it were me, I would attach them to the gas line and maybe let the gas leak into the house first, but you’re professionals. Just remember, we want a big fireball and no survivors. Set it for a timer and remote detonate. Use a burner phone, but, and I cannot stress this enough, you have to make it look like amateur hour. I want that in the papers when the Fire Marshal’s office releases their findings. Be mindful
of security cameras and don’t waste any time. I need them ready to go at a moment’s notice. We’re going to pick a fight.”

  Tuesday was beautiful any time of day but when she was giving orders? Casually ordering the destruction of a murder scene to save my sorry ass? She was resplendent. The only thing better was when she got mad. I slid my sunglasses off my face and made eye contact with her.

  “That’s your grand plan, Tuesday? You’re going to blow up my house? Somehow, I expected something a little… cleaner? Where am I supposed to live during all this?”

  She whirled on me and the white-hot anger written all over her face made me take a step back.

  Be careful what you wish for, man.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Vin-Vin, here I am trying my damnedest to clean up a mass murder site for my ex-fiance who is now a vampire. It’s the middle of the night. If you don’t like this plan, fine. It’s the only one I have. Just say the word and I’ll go. Good luck out there. Someone just might stake you on sight if they learn the truth, you walking blood-borne pathogen.”

  “You’re right,” she continued in a voice that dripped with disdain, “you are clearly the one being inconvenienced here. I should have given more thought to the creature comforts of the murdering, lying, cheating, smug bastard billionaire who had no choice but to hire me because he couldn’t control himself for one unsupervised second.”

  The entire room fell silent, and I knew they were all waiting to see if I lost control again. No one had ever spoken to me that way. No one except Tuesday.

  “Your goal is to have a reason for someone to hurt you. We are giving you an alibi tonight, an opportunity to make a public statement with accessories and schmooze with your fans while the rest of us build the case and provoke a substantial reaction. Can you control yourself long enough to get this done? Do you have someone you can spend the night with?”

  She looked at me so sternly that I hoped to the Gods above that I could do this, if only to please her for just a small second. Two of the women working the phones threw thumbs up as they continued with their frantic conversations.

  “Good. They’ll take care of your social calendar tonight,” she pointed at the assistants who were chattering amongst themselves.

  “You need to be seen out and about. Get your ass into some clubwear and get downtown. Mermaidia has last call at 2:00 a.m. and that’s in 1 hour and 27 minutes. You won’t have time for a stylist so you’re on your own. Make it provocative, Vinnie. That shouldn’t be too hard, should it?” She scowled at me and turned to one of my assistants.

  “You. Find him some accessories that show his newfound vamp sympathizer status. Bracelet? Necklace? Giant glowing fang-studded crown? I don’t care. Just get it. He needs to make a statement. The blogs and paps need to get many, many, photographs of this. Go. Now.”

  I watched in amusement as my terrified intern nodded and scurried out of the room, her phone already glued to her ear.

  Another assistant started writing on the white board, making a list of confirmed paparazzi and media contacts. Tuesday knows how to inspire action, that’s for damn sure.

  “Ok. Let’s recap. Vinnie is unavoidably high-profile, and tonight he is going to poke the bear. This, along with our ability to spin public opinion, will give us the fuel we need for our firestorm. That gives us a motive, people. The key to this is to not do it ourselves. We need there to be proof, beyond reasonable doubt, that someone wants him dead. Preferably a lot of someones. Only then can we blow the house and take care of the rest of this situation.”

  Baldwin looked paler than normal and a few of the assistants gulped. It struck me that Tuesday (and, by extension, me) was asking my staff to do something truly terrible. If I were a good person, I would acknowledge that or do something for them. But the words stuck in my throat.

  “That means trading on the increasingly prevalent anti-vamp bullshit and purposefully antagonizing some violent and unstable people so they can take the fall for this. Does anyone have a problem with that?” Tuesday’s voice rang out clearly and the room quieted as my team looked at each other nervously.

  “Um, what does that mean?” Kelly asked timidly.

  Tuesday looked down at the table for a long moment before meeting everyone’s eyes as she spoke.

  “It means that we are going to wage virtual warfare. There are groups here in the Puget Sound that actively foster discriminatory behavior. Their numbers are small, despite their disorganization, the fervor of their anti-vamp sentiment is loud. If they knew what Vinnie is, they wouldn’t hesitate to wish death, destruction, or a quick stake to the heart upon him. Or all of the above.”

  She paused for a moment, but no one moved or said anything. It felt as though the whole room was holding its breath.

  “As it is, he has never taken a public stand for, or against, vampires,” she continued. “I checked. If he takes a stand that is pro-vamp, they are literally going to shout for his blood. He will be the highest profile individual to publicly support the vampire community. They’ll view him as a traitor. This will allow us to explain why Vinnie is missing public appearances later and explain why his multi-million dollar waterfront property is targeted in a domestic terrorist attack. Vinnie will, of course, survive but his staff were all viciously murdered. Unfortunate casualties of anti-vampire sentiment. This puts us in complete control of the narrative.”

  I smiled at her and clapped slowly. Tuesday Matson had always known exactly how to take things to the next level. I stood up but didn’t bother to hide my fangs, or my boner, this time. I couldn’t tell her how I really felt so I did the next best thing: I made her mad.

  “Tuesday. That is. I have no words. You’re the best. I bow to you. You’re simply the best. Your plan is solid. I accept it. Baldwin, Sergio, Cole, and I will leave for my penthouse in the city, I’ll get ready for Mermaidia there. You are, of course, welcome to accompany us to supervise. Just like old times.”

  She glanced down at my crotch and then met my gaze with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on her face. “You can fuck right off with that. I never make the same mistake twice, and you, Vincent, are a mistake. Why are you even here? You have an hour and 22 minutes to pull off being photographed in public. Go.” She dismissed me and turned to the rest of my staff.

  “It’s time to get to work, people. Come over in groups for your assignments.”

  The entire room erupted into activity, eager to obey the flurry of orders Tuesday was dishing out.

  My bodyguards nodded at me and stood to escort me to the door. They appeared completely unbothered by the request to level a building and hide evidence of murder. I should have leaned on them more. Maybe if I’d been more honest with them, they could have prevented my monster from getting loose.

  Hindsight, it is a bitch.

  Tuesday sat back as the room exploded into action again. I could hear her pulse racing. She was excited to see it all come together. Of course, she was. This plan was either the most brilliant thing she had ever come up with or it was all going to blow up in our faces… literally.

  “I think that’s everything to start,” she said. “This will be our command post and we’ll monitor the situation from here. I want status reports on the hour. Everyone needs to be using burner phones as soon as possible and someone needs to bring me the biggest coffee they can find. Go!”

  I shook my head and followed Sergio and Cole out to the waiting SUV.

  On the bright side, if this actually worked? It would give me a way to support the vampire community without formally coming out.

  Only time would tell.

  5

  VINNIE

  Baldwin arrived at the penthouse after us, and I could only guess that he’d stayed behind to speak to Tuesday in private. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he helped me choose my clubwear and only spoke to me to go over key points of the plan.

  I was only half-listening to his droning. Tuesday had told me to be provocative and I was in the mood to be as literal as possib
le.

  A neon mesh shirt combined with tight leather pants would be a statement that was sure to provoke some conversation. A black leather pageboy cap sailed across the room and clipped me on the shoulder. I flashed my fangs at Baldwin in annoyance but put it on. The cap combined with the mesh and the leather pants gave me a very… bondage club vibe.

  “Here, you need to drink this.” Baldwin interrupted my trip down memory lane and shoved a to-go cup in my face. “The last thing we need is another incident.”

  Baldwin looked tired and he refused to make eye contact with me. A small part of me wondered if I had finally pushed my long-suffering manager too far.

  Frowning, I examined the straw that protruded from the cup, but the familiarly coppery smell inspired a happy growl that startled Baldwin as I took a long sip.

  “Must you?”

  I smiled at him, my teeth stained red from my pre-game snack. “This was your idea,” I said with a shrug.

  Baldwin shook his head and stomped away from me. There were benefits to my lifestyle, and having a team of people dedicated to making sure I didn’t screw up my life too badly was definitely at the top of the perk list.

  Where had they been on the night I’d been turned...

  I couldn’t help but wonder what Tuesday would think if she saw me now. My fangs extended at the thought of her.

  Tuesday. Seeing her again was like a stake through the heart. The burn of a shaft of sunlight on my skin.

  She’ll always be the epitome of the ‘one who got away.’ And there was definitely nothing I’d be able to do to fix that now. Especially in a neon mesh shirt.

  If I could trust the notifications on my phone, my social media team had already accomplished a lot more than I’d expected.

  #VinnieQuakeVampLover and #VinnieVamper were already trending on four platforms. The plan to leak pictures of me dressed like this would definitely accelerate the situation. The idea made me cringe in distaste.

  The idea of going out like this, of tempting fate, actually horrified me. It had been extremely difficult hiding my identity as a vampire for five long years. Flaunting it went against every part of my being. But the luxury of having that choice disappeared when I lost control. That can never happen again.