All three reacted differently to Sam's words. Forest laughed outright, glancing from Sam to Nic expectantly. Alex looked everywhere else. Nic looked pissed off, his mouth suddenly a grim line.
"How bighearted of you, Sam, being willing to work with the fur challenged," he said.
"Oh, lay off. I didn't mean it like that." She was indignant. Who was he to be pissed at her? He was the one at fault. In fact he was so at fault that if he was California he would have fallen off into the ocean.
"Sure—some of your best friends are werewolves," Nic agreed sarcastically, steadily holding her gaze.
Obviously having a vampire for a cousin made Nic a bit touchy about supernatural creatures. "No. But one of my good friends is a witch, my brother has dated a werelioness and I have a goblin for a pet." She wasn't a preternatural bigot, she was just choosy. And if she tended to prefer men who didn't try to sip your blood like fine champagne, or men with more wit than hair, that was her business!
Leaning toward Sam, Nic studied her with a new intensity she found unnerving. She remarked tensely, "Not meaning to change the subject, but I am." Ignoring Nic's odd huff she continued, "I think I know where the Meduse might strike next."
Nobody asked where with bated breath. Sam narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, but Nic just continued to stare at her strangely. He took a long sip of his Rolling Rock beer. The silence stretched into a minute, until Alex finally asked the big question: "Where?"
"The Statue of Liberty." Sam waited for everyone to make the logical connection. They remained silent, however, staring at her with varying degrees of disbelief.
"Well, the Meduse is really into statues, you know. He finds them arousing. And you can't get bigger or more womanly than the lady herself."
"You mean, he'll go and look at her like a porn magazine or something?" Alex managed to ask, his voice a little shaky. He was clearly suppressing laughter.
Sam nodded.
Alex cracked up. Nic snorted in disbelief, and Forest was staring at Sam like she was the stupidest human alive—which in her opinion was saying something.
"That's an usual ideal, Sam. Original, even," Nic added when he saw Sam flinch.
"It's a great idea. There's no lady larger in the good ol' U.S.A., and without question she's the prettiest. She makes Philadelphia's Liberty Belle look cracked and tawdry in comparison. So, that's where I'll be tomorrow night—a front row seat at the Statue of Liberty," Sam said through clenched teeth. She glared at Nic. "Go ahead and snicker. They laughed at Galileo, Peter Venkman and Victor Frankenstein. I'm glad to be in the company of giants."
Forest hooted with laughter, for once forgetting her sex-kitten image.
"You can't go charging off into New York City at night by yourself," Nic said. "It's dangerous and deadly. You know it's an urban jungle out there, filled with all kinds of lethal creatures. Even without the Meduse hanging around," Nic added.
"Oh, give me a break. I'm free, proud, and a member of the World Bustin' Association. I'm not afraid of no gorgon. And heck, if I were a gorgon, I would find that statue sexy." Seeing the disbelief in their eyes, she opened her mouth to tell them that she had also found an obscure reference to Medusae having an affinity for large stone, copper and marble statuary. And the bigger the better. The perverted monsters liked nothing more than to have intercourse with hard, cold humanlike statues. And none of this modern art stuff for them. They might be perverted, but they had traditional taste.
Before Nic could say more, Alex put in his two cents: "I'll go with Sam."
She kept her mouth closed tight, narrowing her eyes at Nic, who was still smiling at Forest. See if she would mention finding that really old book at the library and the odd reference it held—the strange reference about the statues sculpted by Michelangelo and da Vinci that had met with a really scary fate. The gorgons had gotten their rocks off by having bizarro sex with them; the sculptures had been destroyed and the world had lost another David or two. And how do you think the Venus de Milo had ended up looking how she did? Well, let the oversexed vampires and the underbrained Nic figure it out for themselves.
Nic started to argue with both his brother and Sam, but Forest got there first. "Let's dance, Nicky—now." Giving him a come-hither look, she pulled him to his feet.
Glancing over to note Sam's reaction, Nic hid a smile. He could almost see the steam jetting from her ears. Taking a quick peek back at Forest, he could see why. The Irish vampiress looked ravishing tonight, although a little wooden. Yes, for all her fine looks, Nic just couldn't seem to see Forest as a threat to his feelings for Sam; she was all bark and no bite.
"Sure," he replied, glancing once at Sam as he led Forest to the dance floor. It would be better to let her cool down.
"What a creep," Sam muttered as he left.
Alex looked amused. "Nic, a creep? What will he think?"
Sam drew her attention away from the gruesome twosome and gave him a dirty look. "Not Nic. Forest. Boy, that lady is a tramp."
Alex started laughing again, wiping his eyes.
Sam ignored him. "Nic's no creep. He's just a lecherous, oversexed and rutting Russian. He's also pretty dim-witted when it comes to figuring out the psychology of a gorgon. Lucky I'm here."
Alex laughed even harder. The course of true love was certainly not running smoothly for his big brother. "He'll be glad to know that he's not a creep—and that you're jealous."
"Oh, drop it, joker boy," Sam snapped. Nobody said she was jealous, not without getting a fat lip in the process. Lucky she was acting the lady tonight, or Nic's little brother would have trouble sipping for a week. She instructed him testily, "Give me the low-down on those clubs and Greek restaurants."
Alex stopped chuckling. "Okay. You were wrong about the restaurants, but some of the bartenders at the Goth clubs think they might have seen him. Those at the Breed Club, the Resident Evil Bar and Club Dread all remembered seeing a male supernatural with Jessie who fits Nero's description."
"When was the last time they saw him?"
"Last night, here."
"Damn! We missed him."
"I know," Alex grumbled. "But we'll get him yet."
"Get who?" Forest asked, walking back to the table. Daintily she sat down in her chair, running her fingers through her shoulder-length copper curls. Her mini-mini skirt sliding up almost to her waist, Sam noted nastily. Nic remained standing, watching Sam.
"Who else? The gorgon," Sam retorted. "Where have you been? Planted in la-la land?"
Forest took her time answering. Pointing a long red curved fingernail at Sam, she suggested with pure ice in her voice: "Watch out, little human, I don't like being insulted."
"Then don't hang around," Sam shot back. Yes, her Irish was up, as well as her English, her German, and her dander.
Alex snorted. Nic suppressed a grin, knowing that he really shouldn't find Sam's insults humorous. After all, Forest was a vampire, and an enraged vampire could wipe the floor with a human. They often did, cleaning up any blood they might have spilled while drinking, sort of like some people use bread to sop up steak juice. Still, Sam was made of sterner stuff than most mortals, and Nic enjoyed her jealousy. And she was jealous, she cared about him far more than she wanted him to know.
The Irish vampiress struck fast, latching on to Sam's arm with terrible strength, knocking over her drink in the process. "I don't like being given instructions. Especially not by a short and stupid mortal whose lifespan is growing shorter by the minute."
Grimacing in pain, Sam retained a half grin. She knew she had to. Never let them see you sweat: Her parents had drilled that into her as a child. Supernatural creatures thrived on fear and pain, and Sam wasn't about to give this venomous vamp the thrill.