He'd spent five years as one of the day guards at Roman's townhouse when she'd lived there with the harem. Most of the mortal guards had considered the harem a silly bunch of nameless, undead women, connected to their real charge, Roman Draganesti. They had rated the harem's value somewhere below Roman's artwork and priceless antiques.
Phil Jones was different. He'd learned their names and treated them like real people. Vanda had tried flirting with him a few times, but Connor, that old grouch, always put a stop to it. Phil had followed the rule of noninvolvement and kept his distance - easy enough to do when he was usually at night school or asleep when she was awake; and she was dead during the day, when he was awake.
Even so, she'd suspected that he was attracted to her. Or maybe she'd just wanted him to be. Harem life had been so damned boring, and somehow, Phil had seemed intriguing.
But she must have just imagined it all. She'd been free from the harem for three years now, and in that time, Phil had never bothered to see her.
She paused to listen as Phil's voice replied on the walkie-talkie. She couldn't make out the words, but the sound reverberated through her with a surprising sizzle. She'd forgotten how sexy his voice was. Damn him, she'd thought he was a friend. But she'd just been part of the job, easily forgotten once he'd moved on to the next assignment.
She reached for the door to the meeting hall when it suddenly burst open. She jumped back to keep from being mowed down by a buxom woman and a cameraman. Vanda recognized the woman instantly. Corky Courrant was the hostess of the Digital Vampire Network's celebrity talk show, Live with the Undead.
"I reject this verdict!" Corky screamed, turning to catch the door before it swung shut. "I'll take this to the Supreme Coven Court!"
"My decision is final." Roman's voice sounded firm, but bored.
"You'll hear about this on my show!" Corky noticed Vanda for the first time. "You! What are you doing here?"
Vanda winced as the cameraman turned his camera on her. Damn. Now she was going to end up on Corky's show.
She smiled hesitantly at the camera. "Hi there, fellow Vamps. I'm going to the coven meeting. I always go to the coven meetings. It's our civic duty, you know."
"Cut the bullshit," Corky snarled. "You came here to gloat. But I'm not dropping my suit against you, no matter what the Coven Master says."
Vanda kept her smile glued in place for the camera. "Can't we all just get along?"
"You should have thought about that before you attacked me!" Corky screeched.
Oh, right. That incident last December at the club. Vanda had leaped across a table to try to strangle Corky Courrant. After all the turmoil that had followed, that little incident had seemed unimportant in comparison. She'd had shrugged it off as one more minor tiff. Vanda had had a lot of minor tiffs over the years.
She faced the camera with a soulful look. "It was an unfortunate mishap, but we can all be eternally grateful that our dear Corky has not suffered from it. Her voice is just as loud and strident as ever."
Corky snorted, then made a cutting motion to signal her cameraman to stop recording. She leaned close, lowering her voice. "It's not over between us, bitch. I have a lot of power in the Vampire World, and I'll see you ruined." She stormed down the hall, her cameraman scurrying behind her.
"Have a nice day!" Vanda called after her. She turned to enter the meeting hall and noticed how quiet it was. Everyone was staring at her. Great. They'd witnessed that little scene with Corky.
The whispering began. Vanda lifted her chin. She estimated there were about thirty Vamps in attendance. Mostly male. The archaic Vamp world was still run almost entirely by men. Arrogant, stodgy old men who didn't approve of her nightclub where Vamp men stripped for Vamp women.
She noted the sour looks on their faces. Obviously, they also didn't care for her purple spandex catsuit or purple, spiky hair. Out of the entire crowd, she spotted one friendly, smiling face. Gregori. Unfortunately, he was seated on the front row. She tightened the whip around her waist and strode down the center aisle.
Roman Draganesti was seated in the big Master chair on the dais. In the old days, the Coven Master sat alone, but times had changed. Roman's chair was flanked by two smaller chairs. His wife Shanna sat on his left, and the priest, Father Andrew, sat on his right. They were obviously his chief advisors. And both were mortal.
What was the Vamp World coming to? Why had Roman given these two mortals so much power in a world where they didn't belong? With a disgusted huff, Vanda sat next to Gregori.
Roman acknowledged her presence with a regal nod. Vanda scowled back.
Seated at a table close to the dais, Laszlo Veszto scribbled notes with a fountain pen on antique-looking parchment. He was a chemist at Romatech, but also held the prestigious job of Coven Secretary. Vanda rolled her eyes. He might as well use a quill and inkwell. Or maybe a roll of papyrus and a stick reed.
"Sheesh, get the poor guy a laptop," she muttered to Gregori.
"He has one," Gregori whispered back. "But they like to stick with tradition for these meetings."
"These meetings are a joke," she grumbled. She supposed Laszlo was still writing down the decision that had upset Corky Courrant. "What happened with Corky?"
"Good news for you," Gregori whispered. "Roman dismissed her lawsuit against you."
"About time. I obviously didn't hurt her throat."
"Then Corky insisted that it would only be fair for Roman to drop the lawsuit that's been leveled against her, but he refused."
"What lawsuit?" Vanda asked.
"You haven't heard? The famous model, Simone, is suing Corky. Remember when I hired Simone to do Fangercise, an exercise DVD? Corky claimed on her show that Simone used fake teeth."
Vanda broke out in laughter, her voice echoing across the silent room. A dozen male Vamps shushed her. Laszlo dropped his pen and gave her a startled look. Then he glanced at Roman.
Vanda halted mid-laugh and cleared her throat. Damn. These old Vamps needed to pull the stakes out of their butts. She opened her mouth to say so, but Gregori touched her arm.
"Don't," he whispered. "Don't speak to him until he's spoken to you."
"Laszlo," Roman began quietly.
"Yes, sir?" The Coven Secretary fiddled with a button on his lab coat.
"Since Vanda Barkowski has finally arrived, let us proceed to the other suits against her."
Other suits? As in plural? Vanda glanced around nervously. Roman's wife gave her a sympathetic smile.
Anger sparked inside Vanda, and she clenched her fists. She didn't need anyone's sympathy. She was tough, dammit.
Laszlo fumbled through a stack of papers. He drew one page out. Then another. And another. Three pages? Her anger sizzled into a hot flame.
Laszlo gave her a nervous look, then proceeded. "Vanda Barkowski is being sued on three counts. Count one - unjustified termination of employment, resulting in loss of wages and mental trauma. Count two - reckless endangerment at the workplace, resulting in minor injury and mental trauma. Count three - assault with a deadly weapon, resulting in physical injury and mental trauma."
Vanda jumped to her feet. "That's a load of crap! Who's suing me?" Her face burned with heat as she scanned the room. "Where are you, you ass**les? I'll show you some mental trauma!"
"Sit down, please," Roman said quietly.
"I have the right to face my accusers." She spotted three former employees hunched down in the back row. "There you are, you bastards!"
"Vanda, sit!" Roman ordered.
She whirled to face him. Dammit, he'd known her since 1950, and he was believing this crap from those whiny troublemakers? She pointed a finger at him. "You - "
She gasped when Gregori grabbed her arm and yanked her down hard onto her seat. He gave her a warning glare.
She drew in a shaky breath. Okay. She needed to calm down.
"How do you plead, Ms. Barkowski?" Roman asked.
She gripped her hands together, knuckles white. "Not guilty."
"You didn't terminate the first plaintiff's employment?" Roman glanced at Laszlo. "His name?"
Laszlo scanned the first page, then plucked nervously at one of his buttons. "He wishes to be called by his stage name - Jem Stones."
Chuckles reverberated across the room, then halted abruptly when Roman cleared his throat. "Ms. Barkowski, did you fire Mister...Stones?"