The Real Werewives of Vampire County

“Oh please,” Alexis scoffed, waggling fingers wrapped in jewels in airy dismissal. “Our husbands would have done something about it already if they knew how. Their little yacht club meetings and golfing excursions are just excuses to avoid facing facts—that scouting their usual haunts isn’t going to get us any new wolves. It just goes to show that, as always, it’s the women behind the men in power who really make history.”

Heather shifted uncomfortably, twining her fingers in her long auburn hair as her attention shifted back and forth between the other ladies. She opened her mouth to add her thoughts to the conversation, but Cassandra smoothly overrode her.

“Be that as it may, if we are going to take over recruitment for the pack, we might as well start somewhere. I think this woman could be a good fit. She already lives in the community and she’s newly divorced—which means she’ll be lonely and looking for a man soon enough.”

Heather opened her mouth again, but this time Vera cut her off. “I’m not convinced that volunteering Charles or Lucas as a fit for this woman we haven’t met is such a good idea. Make her one of the pack? Sure. Hand her over to the available men? Not unless she’s breeding pups before she’s turned. Which doesn’t solve our numbers problem for the short term.”

Alexis smirked, drawing her straw across her tongue in a playful, flirtatious bid to draw the attention of one of the men at the bar before adding her thoughts. “Divorcées are generally bitter, lonely people. Not the mothering sort, if she doesn’t have rugrats already, I’m sure. She can choose someone else; perhaps one of the hopefuls that Gabriel keeps going on about inviting to those dull brunches of his... .”

Cassandra gave Alexis a withering look, which went ignored. Her smile was cold enough to make Vera and Heather drop their eyes submissively, knowing better than to tease her about her husband—or his parties.

“Thank you, Alexis. I’ll be sure to tell him you think so,” Cassandra said, her tone flat enough that Alexis finally realized she was in error.

“I’m sorry, Cassie, you know I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Alexis had turned her eyes down, but her tone told the lie. Cassandra leaned forward, her ample cleavage spilling from her low-cut top, drawing the eyes of several men at the tables around them as she settled her hand on the glass tabletop next to Alexis’s drink. One nail had formed into a talon, etching a fine line of warning into the glass between them.

Alexis audibly gulped and lowered her head contritely, a faint sound like a whine dying in her throat. Cassandra stared at her across the table, the others keeping their eyes down as she tapped her fingers impatiently. Finally, she spoke, her words cold and biting.

“If you don’t like how the pack is run, you may rise to the challenge to change it. Otherwise, I suggest you remember who is in charge before your mouth gets you into trouble.”

Alexis nodded once, sharply, ducking her head further. Cassandra laughed and leaned forward enough to brush her finger along Alexis’s arm, making her flinch. “Silly pup, look what you’ve made me do! I’ve just had my nails done, too.”

The others exclaimed over the now cracked veneer of polish on her finger, clucking their tongues over the damage. Before long, Cassandra rose, putting the full force of her chilly smile on Alexis again.

“Let’s go meet the new girl, shall we?”

CHAPTER 2

The body is meant to be seen, not all covered up.

—Marilyn Monroe

The beautiful people of New Jersey often convened on the Gold Coast or fled to Manhattan when they wanted to see and be seen. For those who wanted to do so in the relative privacy of a community too expensive for the locals and too subdued for the tourists, the residents of Saddle River often looked no further than their own backyards to the elegantly overpriced charms of the Smoke & Whiskey.

The nightclub was in good form when Cassandra arrived. She was fashionably late and prepared with a newly restored manicure as she glided down from the heights of her Navigator and passed the keys for her SUV to the valet.

She sauntered up the solar light–lined walkway to the entrance where a host held the door for her. She promptly paused to bask in the recessed spotlights and let the crowd inside take in the view of her in all her chic splendor. As was to be expected, a low murmur of appreciation started up amidst the candle-lit interior as the tall, Amazonian brunette in killer Ferragamo pumps and a sleek Valentino dress surveyed her domain, finding it wanting.

Particularly when Tiffany appeared behind her, settling into an equally statuesque pose in her Manolo strappy stilettos—making her just a smidge taller—as she came to a glittering rest in her vintage Versace beside Cassandra.

“Lovely evening for a night out,” Tiffany purred. “I had no idea there was nightlife this close to home.”

Said nightlife was composed of a number of men and women at low, intimate tables talking over drinks while candles sparked and sputtered in dark alcoves, and the gentle strains of soft jazz came from an easily forgettable band on the stage across the room. Smoke drifted from dry ice placed in hidden recesses and gave the place its namesake, admirably reproducing the atmosphere of a Prohibition-era speakeasy. The club tried hard to pull off the air of “upper class dive,” but failed miserably thanks to the glint of crystal and glow of real teakwood from the bar and tables.

Cassandra eyed the bangles clinking on Tiffany’s wrist as the blonde airily brushed her hair back, revealing equally jangly earrings. Très out of style, but Cassandra delighted in not telling her that.

“Quite. If it gets too dull, we can always go to Manhattan,” Cassandra said, gesturing to the table where Vera, Heather, and Alexis had already settled, nursing drinks that glowed in the subdued light of the club. “Ah, there we are. Let’s go have a seat, shall we? You can meet the other ladies of Still Waters.”

Tiffany confidently took the lead; the other girls’ expressions ranged from wary to impressed at Cassandra’s restraint for allowing her to go first. Tiffany didn’t appear to notice the others’ discomfort as she swept around the table to shake hands as she was introduced. For her part, the alpha bitch was amused, finding this potential new blood to be the sort of headstrong woman necessary to build the Diamondfangs into a pack that might someday overcome the Moonwalkers.

“... and so,” Tiffany finished explaining her circumstances on moving to town as she shook Vera’s hand, meeting the woman’s eyes as her grip tightened uncomfortably. “I’ve only been in town for a couple weeks, but I think I’ll be settled in before long. The divorce is nearly final. I do have to say, while I’m pleased to find myself in such company, I can’t stay long tonight. We can meet again soon. I’m sure we’ll all be fast friends.”

Vera showed her teeth in the semblance of a smile, her eyes briefly taking on a glimmer of something unnatural as she held on to Tiffany’s hand long past when she should have let her go.

“Is that right? You look familiar. Are you sure you’ve only been in town for two weeks?”

Tiffany gave Vera a tight smile of her own, but said nothing, pulling her hand back hard enough that it was obviously an effort. Cassandra made a faint hissing noise between her teeth, and Vera gradually relented, looking away. Alexis sipped her drink, her expression turned wary and calculating as she watched the exchange, while Heather’s attention was focused on the band across the room.

“Quite sure,” Tiffany replied. “I haven’t been to New Jersey since, oh, before I was married. I used to travel extensively, so perhaps you saw me in the airport on my way to South Africa or Versailles.”

“South Africa?” One perfectly sculpted brow arched as Alexis regarded Tiffany over the rim of her drink, a sardonic twist to her cherry lips. “I can’t imagine what you’d be doing there. The place has nothing to offer but backward politics and savages, if you ask me.”

Tiffany’s smile turned murderous. “Visiting family, actually. My mother is from Johannesburg. Also, I often visit to acquire more tribal artwork and supplies for my gallery. Many people admire the richness and beauty of the culture.”

Alexis reddened and muttered something apologetic into her drink. Cassandra watched all of this with the avid gaze of a cat who has spotted a wounded bird fluttering within reach of its paws.

Heather dove to the rescue, her voice sweet and sincere as she sidled her chair a bit closer to Tiffany. “Don’t listen to that nonsense, she’s just being her usual catty, bitchy self. We are glad to have you here!”

Tiffany’s narrowed blue eyes slid from Vera to rest on Heather, her expression lightening considerably. “Thank you. What a doll you are!”

“Do you want to come shopping with me tomorrow? I heard there’s a new store with vintage Louis Vuitton that just opened up in Manhattan.” Heather’s wide brown eyes were completely guileless, and the others couldn’t restrain their eye rolls as she squealed in excitement at Tiffany’s nod. “Excellent! Give me your address, I’ll pick you up at noon.”