The music changed. The dark and somber threat of the hunters of the night segued into something uplifting. The lighting on the stage changed, blazing brighter and brighter until he was forced to squint. The black clothing slithered off her body and she sparkled.
Diamonds glittered over her skin, shimmering and rainbows danced off the different prisms as the light struck them. Naked, save for the gems, she stood there, arms up, radiant and captivating. The music plummeted and the lights muted, reducing the blinding glare. Kristina looked right at him.
“Diamonds are a vampire’s best friend,” she murmured in a throaty whisper and winked.
The theatre plunged into darkness and breathless silence. Richard rose first, hands coming together in applause, and as the house lights came on, every member of the audience stood, cheering, applauding and wolf whistling. The dancers pranced back out onto the stage, each bowing with grace and playfulness. But the crowd waited for Kristina to stroll back out—he expected her to have draped something over her nudity, but she strutted before the entire assembly, bold, brash and fearless.
They rewarded her with renewed applause and cheers. She bowed twice, waving her hand with a smile so wide and effortless it pulled at his heart.
Happiness cloaked her. Pure, unadulterated happiness. It struck him a physical blow when her gaze found his, and she smiled at him. The pulse of heat, the instantaneous connection sizzled through his veins. She winked and took one last bow, and the curtain dropped.
Show over.
He resumed his seat, finally picking up the glass of wine and draining it in one long swallow. The coppery flavor of the blood slaked some of the hunger her performance aroused, but couldn’t quiet the ever-growing list of questions in his mind.
A flash of movement blossomed into existence across from him. Anton and David whirled as a ruddy skinned creature stared at him with saucer-wide eyes and flicked her tufted ears first toward his men and then to him. Her tail lashed back and forth, agitated like a cat.
Richard held up a hand to halt any action on the part of his guards.
Less than two feet in height, the slender little beast shifted from side to side as though uncertain of whether to sit. She glanced up at Anton and pointed a clawed finger at him. “Go get me a booster seat.”
The vampire stared at her but didn’t move.
“Anton, please get our guest a booster seat.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ragamuffin’s face wrinkled in a frown. “Hmm, kind of rude that he didn’t do it when I asked.”
“You didn’t ask.” He offered the observation with a careful smile. Considering Heidi’s earlier visit, he should have expected the Minion—was that actually her name?—to make an appearance.
“True. But he’s getting it anyway, so I guess I didn’t have to.” She grinned and set a folder on the table in front of her. She hopped up to lean toward the wine bottle, and Richard pulled it away and refilled his own glass.
“Can I have some?”
“Perhaps.” He set the bottle well out of her reach and swirled the wine in his glass. “But I suspect you are not allowed, or you would simply order your own.”
“Hmmph.”
Anton returned with a booster in hand. Richard suppressed a snort of amusement at the vampire’s befuddled expression. The bodyguard set it down behind Minion on the seat and backed away. The imp hopped down and bounced on the seat once before sitting. She shifted, as though crossing her legs, and tapped her claws on the file folder.
“I am…”
“Richard, Prince of New York—giver of fabulous orgasms. I know.”
He managed not to choke on his wine—but only barely. Clearing his throat, he set the glass down. “And you are?”
“Minion. But you know that, Mr. Prince Big Shot.” Hostility and annoyance twisted in the little one’s tone.
“I seem to have offended you somehow.” He studied the large, almost luminous eyes staring back at him, unblinkingly.
“You can’t have Kiki.” Minion flattened her hand against the folder. “You can play, make her happy and then you can go away.”
Not going to happen. A snarl strained against the jesses of his control, but he smoothed it over. He handled negotiations regularly through the centuries—often with despicable nuisances. He could manage an imp. “I’m sorry you feel that way. What can I do to set your mind at ease?”
“Hmmm.” Minion cocked her head to the side. “Leave.”
“No.” He reclaimed his wine for another sip and let his gaze wander away from the creature.
“But you have to. I won’t let you take Kiki away.” The imp folded her arms across her chest and glared. The hair at the nape of his neck stood on end. Nostrils flaring, he scented only the mildest hint of sulfur. The imp was young—very young. Her magic was nowhere near its maturity, which meant she couldn’t set him on fire.
He could afford to be patient with her. “If you wish to bargain with me…”
“Bargain?” Minion jumped to her feet and hopped onto the table. She marched across the wood, pointing a clawed finger at him. “No, sir. I came here to threaten you.”
She was barely a foot away from him. He could snap her neck before she took another step. Anton and David twitched, but he shook his head once, and they remained where they were. “And how do you plan to threaten me, little one?”
“I don’t know. But I am.” She stomped her foot and the bottle of wine jumped. He caught it before it could spill.
He suppressed a smile. She was well and truly angry with him. “You care about Kristina that much?”
“Her name is Kiki.”
“No.” He shook his head, offering her a hint of sympathy. “Her name is Kristina. She may go by Kiki now, but she was Kristina when she was born, and she will always be Kristina to me.”
“I don’t like Kristina.” A plaintive note entered the Minion’s voice.
“I don’t particularly care for Kiki, either. So we are at an impasse.”
“No. We’re at the Midnight Mystery Lounge. She’s Kiki here—says so right there.” Minion pointed to the poster hung on the wall near the stage. Richard sighed. His bride blew a kiss to the camera. If those posters were everywhere outside the theatre… He swept a look around the theatre…nearly every table was full. She packed the house with her performance.
“Very well.” He could concede this to the little creature and perhaps draw her attention back to the file folder. But the moment his gaze touched on it, Minion leapt backwards and gripped the manila folder tightly. Pretending innocence, he lifted his brows. “Problem?”
“You can’t look at this.” She hugged the folder to her chest.
“Okay.” He nodded agreeably and glanced at the stage. He resisted looking at his watch. Kristina told him she would join him after the show. So where was she?
“She’s probably washing off her makeup and dancing with the girls. But she’s coming. She told me to wait for her here.” The imp spoke with the defiant air of one who wouldn’t have joined him otherwise.
“You really care about her, don’t you?” He could appreciate the affection.
“I love her. She’s my best friend. I won’t let you take her away.” The trembling lower lip spoke volumes for the imp’s emotional investment.
“I love her too.” Why the hell he was confessing this to Minion, he didn’t know. But maybe it would make her feel better about the whole situation—particularly if it turned her into his ally. He leaned forward, hands on the table. “I have loved her for a very long time and missed her for far too long. We were happy together.”
“Yeah?” Minion’s nose wrinkled and her ears swiveled forward, her attention focused on him. “Then where have you been for the last fifty years?”