Read Online Always the Vampire by Nancy Haddock - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nancy Haddock
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First I read over the list of Council of Ancients members Saber had left on the desk. Hmmm. No wonder he hadn’t found these folks. With names like Gandolph the Seer and Grover the Elf, the only sites that came up in my own search were for The Lord of the Rings and fantasy pages.
Next, just because I felt like it, I used Saber’s VPA pass codes to access the private areas of the VPA site. There was zip info on the COA period and not much on the Void, other than a warning that vampires were falling ill and what their symptoms might include. Guess Saber wasn’t fibbing about the VPA being clueless about tracking the Void. Heck, maybe the COA truly didn’t know about the Void or about Starrack being rogue, either, unless Cosmil had alerted them.
With those searches done, Millie’s concern about Maybelle’s reading of my astrology chart nagged at me. True, Maybelle was a dabbler, not an expert, but the woman knew her stuff. If she mentioned something amiss to Millie, it wasn’t an idle comment.
I’d see Maybelle tomorrow night at bridge club, but whether I’d have the privacy to ask her about my chart was iffy. Instead of stewing, I opted to be proactive. I plugged “astrology charts” into Google and turned up over two million results. Not helpful. I typed in “astrology charts disappearing from yours” and got over a hundred thousand listings. I refined the search to “disappearing from your own astrology chart” and got just over twenty-three thousand results, but they all dealt with habits and addictions not disappearing on their own. Duh.
I eyed the sites in the right column and spotted two astrologers who advertised free answers to short questions. What the heck. I shot each of them a note. Never hurts to see what one can get gratis.
Not that I’m a miser, mind you. I’m merely cautious with my money. The treasure that had been secreted in the false bottom of my coffin—or rather the French vampire King Normand’s coffin—wouldn’t last without good management. I’d shared some of the loot with Maggie and Neil, sold a few pieces for capital, and invested. I also had my earnings from tour guiding, but I had expenses just like everyone else.
And, okay, I could shop my checkbook into the grave if I wasn’t careful. Yep, I’m a part day-walking, all night-stalking vampire, and my favorite prey is a bargain at Walmart. However, I’d learned the hard way that, if you find a goody you want in a St. Augustine shop, you’d best buy it on the spot. It will be gone when you go back, and it won’t be restocked.
I’d also learned that St. Augustine businesses appear to operate in a different dimension. If you get what you want three weeks late, you got it a month early. That’s why I put those extra tables and chairs on reserve with the rental company from the get-go.
Which reminded me, I had a list of wedding chores to make. Call rental company. Order more centerpieces from florist. Talk with Daphne about making the wedding cake bigger or ordering a second groom’s cake.
By the time I tucked the list in my binder, my backlog of interior design homework didn’t just beckon for attention, it bellowed. I buckled down and spent the next six hours finishing the projects due, plus the next weeks’ worth as well.
Snowball grumbled when I finally crawled into bed. Saber decidedly did not. Yep, the Saber I knew and loved was back.
Wednesday bridge club is a mixed bag of nuts, as Shelly Jergason likes to say. She’s the one who invited me to the group after we met at the historical society and I mentioned I was learning bridge online. No big stretch since bridge evolved from whist, but it was a boon to be accepted into the group. The two-table club includes youthful seniors, Maybelle and Shelly, and middle-aged movers and shakers, real estate agent Jenna Jones and perennial chairwoman Nadine Houseman. Our youngest members are artist Kathy Baker and elementary school teacher Missy Cox.
And, of course,
Next, just because I felt like it, I used Saber’s VPA pass codes to access the private areas of the VPA site. There was zip info on the COA period and not much on the Void, other than a warning that vampires were falling ill and what their symptoms might include. Guess Saber wasn’t fibbing about the VPA being clueless about tracking the Void. Heck, maybe the COA truly didn’t know about the Void or about Starrack being rogue, either, unless Cosmil had alerted them.
With those searches done, Millie’s concern about Maybelle’s reading of my astrology chart nagged at me. True, Maybelle was a dabbler, not an expert, but the woman knew her stuff. If she mentioned something amiss to Millie, it wasn’t an idle comment.
I’d see Maybelle tomorrow night at bridge club, but whether I’d have the privacy to ask her about my chart was iffy. Instead of stewing, I opted to be proactive. I plugged “astrology charts” into Google and turned up over two million results. Not helpful. I typed in “astrology charts disappearing from yours” and got over a hundred thousand listings. I refined the search to “disappearing from your own astrology chart” and got just over twenty-three thousand results, but they all dealt with habits and addictions not disappearing on their own. Duh.
I eyed the sites in the right column and spotted two astrologers who advertised free answers to short questions. What the heck. I shot each of them a note. Never hurts to see what one can get gratis.
Not that I’m a miser, mind you. I’m merely cautious with my money. The treasure that had been secreted in the false bottom of my coffin—or rather the French vampire King Normand’s coffin—wouldn’t last without good management. I’d shared some of the loot with Maggie and Neil, sold a few pieces for capital, and invested. I also had my earnings from tour guiding, but I had expenses just like everyone else.
And, okay, I could shop my checkbook into the grave if I wasn’t careful. Yep, I’m a part day-walking, all night-stalking vampire, and my favorite prey is a bargain at Walmart. However, I’d learned the hard way that, if you find a goody you want in a St. Augustine shop, you’d best buy it on the spot. It will be gone when you go back, and it won’t be restocked.
I’d also learned that St. Augustine businesses appear to operate in a different dimension. If you get what you want three weeks late, you got it a month early. That’s why I put those extra tables and chairs on reserve with the rental company from the get-go.
Which reminded me, I had a list of wedding chores to make. Call rental company. Order more centerpieces from florist. Talk with Daphne about making the wedding cake bigger or ordering a second groom’s cake.
By the time I tucked the list in my binder, my backlog of interior design homework didn’t just beckon for attention, it bellowed. I buckled down and spent the next six hours finishing the projects due, plus the next weeks’ worth as well.
Snowball grumbled when I finally crawled into bed. Saber decidedly did not. Yep, the Saber I knew and loved was back.
Wednesday bridge club is a mixed bag of nuts, as Shelly Jergason likes to say. She’s the one who invited me to the group after we met at the historical society and I mentioned I was learning bridge online. No big stretch since bridge evolved from whist, but it was a boon to be accepted into the group. The two-table club includes youthful seniors, Maybelle and Shelly, and middle-aged movers and shakers, real estate agent Jenna Jones and perennial chairwoman Nadine Houseman. Our youngest members are artist Kathy Baker and elementary school teacher Missy Cox.
And, of course,
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