Nancy A Collins-Vamps 02 Read Online Free Page B

newbies are you fooling around with?” Sheila asked.
    “I’m not seeing any New Blood boy on the sly, Mom!
    Besides, I don’t know what you’re so worried about.
    Oldies only marry their own kind, and I’m definitely not one of them !”
    “You shouldn’t talk like that about yourself, sweetie,” Sheila admonished, leaning forward to stroke her daughter’s hair. “You’re as good as any of those Old Blood girls you go to school with. Those boys at Ruthven’s 28

    would be falling all over themselves if they knew who your father was!”
    “Yeah, big help that is,” Cally said acidly, pushing her mother’s hand away from her face. When Sheila was this close, it was impossible to ignore the reek of bourbon. “ I don’t even know who my father really is!”
    “He’s a very rich and powerful member of Old Blood society. . . .” Sheila said, as if reciting from memory.
    “Yeah, that’s what you always say, Mom, but you still won’t tell me his name!” Cally replied angrily. “I’m going to be seventeen pretty soon, and I still don’t know who my dad is! Don’t you think it’s time you finally told me? Why are you still protecting him?”
    “You know I can’t tell you that, Cally,” Sheila said, her shoulders slumping wearily. “Your grandmother made me . . .” She looked away without finishing her sentence. “It’s for your own good, sugar.”
    “You always try to put it off on Granny when I ask you about my father’s identity!” Cally snapped. “I’m tired of you blaming her! Granny’s been dead for two years now. You could tell me his name if you wanted to; the truth is, you won’t !”
    “Cally, sweetie, you don’t understand how it is with your father—”
    “No, I don’t ! And it looks like I never will if I have to rely on you for information! I’m going to my room now—oh, and Mom, don’t call New Bloods ‘newbies,’
    29

    okay? It’s rude. How would you like it if I called you a clot ?” Cally slammed the door to her room so hard it shook the entire floor.
    So much for the noise ordinance.
    30

Chapter Three
    Lilith Todd walked up the imposing granite stairs that led to the doors of the Belfry. She paused to glance at the throngs of bridge-and-tunnel wannabes gathered on the wrong side of the velvet ropes, hoping against hope that they would be permitted access to the former fin de siècle church, now the hottest club in town. Outfitted in a blush Dolce & Gabbana corset dress and open-toe Manolo pumps, she was the beautiful people personified.
    As far as Lilith was concerned, all clots were clue-less, but some were definitely worse than others. Like, really, who would wear a cheap red top and a cheaper black skirt bought ten years ago at Sears out to a nightclub? Not that it mattered, because that tacky little creature certainly wasn’t getting inside tonight, or any 31

    other night. Her boyfriend wasn’t any better, what with the long, purple leather coat he was wearing. Did that dude think he was going to a rave? How lame! She put her hand over her mouth, just in case she accidentally popped her fangs while laughing at them.
    Breezing past the hulking doorman, she made her way through those who had gathered to see and be seen as they danced, drank, and drugged the night away. She really needed a pick-me-up, and although there were at least three bars on the main floor of the club, none of them served her favorite drink.
    As she climbed the stairs to the converted choir loft that served as the club’s VIP room, the ear-hammering dance music dropped down to a muted roar. She spotted her boyfriend, Jules de Laval, lounging on one of the divans scattered about the room, talking to two of his friends and fellow students at Ruthven’s, Sergei Savanovic and Oliver Drake. With his artfully mussed mane of reddish-gold hair, strong jaw, and lambent green eyes, he resembled a virile young king holding court.
    “How was your afternoon with Armida and Lula?” Jules