"Everyone loves your shows. Especially the soap operas."

"It's boring! Look at this." He pointed at the board where DVN's schedule was displayed. "Every freaking night, it's the same thing. We start at eight o'clock with the Nightly News with Stone Cauffyn. Then, at eight-thirty, it's Live with the Undead, our celebrity gossip magazine."

"With Corky Courrant. I saw her a few weeks ago at the Gala Opening Ball."

Mr. Bacchus pivoted toward her, his eyes wide. "You were invited to the ball?"

"Yes. I... used to be associated with Roman Draganesti."

"How?"

"I worked part time at Romatech." She'd refused to take an allowance from Roman, so Gregori had arranged for her to work in a back room at Romatech a few nights a week. Roman had okayed it, as long as no mortal ever saw her.

"Draganesti is one of our top sponsors." Mr. Bacchus watched her, scratching his beard. "How well do you know him?"

A blush crept up to her cheeks. "I... lived in his house."

"Really? You were in his harem?"

"I - you could say that." But she never would.

"Hmm." Mr. Bacchus's heated gaze wandered over her body. Clearly, her non-writing abilities were being reassessed.

She lifted her chin. "You were describing the schedule?"

"Oh, yeah." He turned back to the board. "In the nine o'clock slot, we have As the Vampire Turns, starring Don Orlando de Corazon. Then at ten, we have All My Vampires, and at eleven, General Morgue. But what happens at midnight?" He jabbed a finger at the dry-erase board.

Darcy frowned. There was nothing there. What did

come on at midnight? By then, she was usually at Romatech, immersed to her ears in boring paperwork.

"Nothing!" Mr. Bacchus yelled. "We start over again and repeat the whole damned schedule. It's pathetic! The midnight hour should be our greatest show ever, the piece de resistance. But we have... nothing." He trudged back to his desk.

Darcy took a deep breath. This was her chance to show her true worth. "You need a new show, but not another soap opera."

"That's right." Mr. Bacchus paced behind his desk. "Maybe a cop show. A vampire cop. We could call it Blood and Disorder. That would be different. What do you think we should do?"

Gulp. She racked her brain. What had been the rage before her world had fallen apart? "How about a reality show?"

He whirled around to face her. "I like it! What could be more real than vampires? But what would be the premise?"

Her mind went completely blank. Damn. She sat in a chair and arranged her portfolio across her lap to buy herself some time. A reality show. What was real? The harem's new dilemma? "How about an expelled harem in need of a new master?"

"Not bad." Mr. Bacchus nodded. "Damned good, actually. Hey, wasn't Draganesti's harem just kicked out?"

"Yes. Corky did a feature about it on Live with the Undead." But none of the ladies had participated. It was too humiliating.

"You know, some of those harem ladies are famous. Could you get them to do the show?"

"I - I believe so."

"You know Draganesti really well, right?" Mr. Bacchus's mouth twisted with a knowing smirk. "Could you get him to rent us a big, fancy penthouse for the show? You know, one of those glitzy ones with a swimming pool on the roof."

"I - I suppose." Maybe Gregori could figure something out.

"It's gotta have a hot tub. Can't have a reality show without a hot tub."

"I understand."

"And you have experience in television?"

"Yes." Darcy glanced at the trash can that now held her neatly typed resume. "I graduated in television journalism at the University of Southern California and worked in that region for several years before moving to New York and a position at Local Four News - "

"Fine, fine." Mr. Bacchus waved a hand to shut her up. "Look, I want this reality show. If you can get us a fancy location and guarantee that Draganesti's old harem will participate, then you've got a job. Director."

Her heart lurched. Director of a reality show? Okay. She could handle this. She had to. It was this or nothing.

"So can you do it? Deliver the penthouse and the harem?"

"Yes." She clenched her portfolio with a white-knuckled grip. "I'd be delighted." God help her.

"And don't forget the hot tub."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Great! I'll have an office ready for you tomorrow night. What do you want to call the show?"

Her mind raced, searching for a pithy title. How to Dig Your Own Grave in Less than Five Minutes?

"Well, the women will be selecting the perfect man to be their new master."

Mr. Bacchus perched on the corner of his desk and scratched at his beard. "The Perfect Man? Or The Perfect Master?"

Not exciting enough. Darcy closed her eyes briefly to concentrate. Maggie would think Don Orlando was the perfect man. What had she called him? "How about The Sexiest Man on Earth?"

"Excellent!" Mr. Bacchus grinned. "And call me Sly. It's short for Sylvester."

"Thank you... Sly."

"This has gotta be a hit. Not just an ordinary show, but one with twists and surprises."

"Yes, of course."

"Auditions will be easy. As you can see in the lobby, there'll be lots of male Vamps trying out for the show."

Darcy winced. Somehow her idea of the world's sexiest man didn't include makeup. "Do they all have to be Vamps?"

Sly snorted. "We're talking about the sexiest men on earth. Of course they'll be Vamps." He strode toward the door.

Of course. Darcy stood, gritting her teeth. Everyone knew vampires were superior in every way. A sudden idea sparked in her head. Why not put Sly's claim to the test?

She smiled as she walked toward the door. So her boss wanted the show to include some surprising twists? No problem.

She would deliver a doozy.

Chapter 2

Austin arrived early for the Stake-Out meeting, so he would have time to download the photos he'd taken the night before at DVN. He opened the unmarked door on the sixth floor of a federal office building. Most of the floor was occupied with Homeland Security, so no one realized he was actually CIA. Or that he was combating terrorists of the undead variety.

The Stake-Out team met every evening at seven before the sun went down and they moved on to their individual assignments. As he passed Sean Whelan's office, loud curses filtered through the walls. Great. Sean must be watching the DVN stuff Austin had emailed to his office. Definitely a good time to avoid the boss.

Austin hurried to the open area where he and the other teammates had their work stations. He wasn't surprised to find the place empty. They were all exhausted. He hadn't had a day or night off in weeks. He downloaded the pictures, then studied them on his monitor while the photo printer kicked into action. Lots of license plates. And lots of her in the blue suit, whoever she was. He'd waited 'til dawn, but had missed seeing her again. Dammit. She must have left while he'd gone to relieve himself. The price of too much coffee.

He yawned as he splayed his hands into his shaggy hair. Working nights made it hard to take care of mundane things like haircuts. And he still wasn't sleeping well during the day. The monitor blurred before his weary eyes. He needed coffee. He wandered to the break room.

"Good evening, Austin." Emma sat at the small round table, eating low-fat yogurt and looking bright-eyed and perky.

There should be a law against blatant cheerfulness in the workplace. Her neatly pressed yellow shirt reminded him that he looked like he'd slept in his wrinkled clothes. Except he hadn't slept much at all. He mumbled something and filled a coffee cup.

"You poor fellow, you look like shit," Emma continued with her crisp British accent.

He grunted, too tired to engage in verbal sparring. Besides, she always won. "Why are you here so early?"

She licked the last of her yogurt off her plastic spoon. "I wanted to get an early start on last night's police reports. I think I'm on to something."

"What?"

"In the last few months, there have been several calls to the police from Central Park. The caller reports seeing someone being attacked, but when the police arrive, they can't find anyone who knows anything."

Austin frowned. "That's not much. Could be pranksters."

"Or it could be real." Emma pointed her spoon at him to make her point. "And the people who called don't remember anything, because their memories were erased by vampires."

"I... suppose." Mind control was a vampire specialty. That was exactly why the Stake-Out team was so small. Everyone on the team needed a certain amount of psychic power in order to resist vampire control. There was no way to fight a creature if he could simply take over your mind. As far as Austin knew, he and Sean possessed the most power on the team.

"Think about it." Emma tossed her empty yogurt cup into the trash. Perfect aim, of course. She'd been working for MI6 when Sean had arranged for her transfer a week ago. "If you were a hungry vampire, wouldn't you troll for victims in a place like Central Park?"

"I suppose." Austin sipped his coffee.

"So I went there last night to look around."

He gulped. "You went by yourself?"

"Yes. You go on your stake-outs alone. Why shouldn't I?"

"Because hunting for vampires in Central Park is not a stake-out. You could have come across one of them."

She rolled her eyes. "That was the idea. Don't worry. I had a few stakes with me."

Austin snorted. "Haven't you been reading the reports? These vampires are super fast and strong."

She sauntered toward the fridge and removed a bottle of water. "I can take care of myself."

"I know." The one time he'd taken her on in a practice session, he'd found himself flat on his back with stars swirling around his head. "But I don't think you should go alone."

"Why not?" She unscrewed the bottle top. "They're probably looking for lone females."

"Wait a minute. You're setting yourself up as bait?"

She shrugged one shoulder and took a sip of water. "If I can draw one in, I'll kill him. That is our mission, isn't it?"

"What if several of them gang up on you? It's way too dangerous."

She sighed. "I shouldn't have told you." She cast him an injured look. "I thought you would understand."

Dammit. He should tell her she was irresponsible and crazy, but he hated being that blunt to a woman. Besides, her vampire hunting sounded like something he would do.

"Are you going to tell Sean?" she asked.

With their boss already livid over his daughter's upcoming marriage, Austin wasn't that big a glutton for punishment. "I'll have to think about it. Did you see any vampires last night?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Good. There are only five of us, Emma. We can't afford to lose you, so think before you play the hero." He trudged back to his desk. Crazy woman, hunting vampires all alone.

He sipped his coffee while he studied the pictures on the screen. Speaking of vampires, who was the demon guy who had driven the gorgeous blonde to DVN? Austin scanned the photos until he located the black Lexus. He ran the license plate through the system. The vehicle was registered to Gregori Holstein, address on the Upper West Side. Date of birth was 1964, which made him a very young vampire. Of course, vampires were probably adept at falsifying documents.

Austin wrote down Gregori's address, then did a credit search. The guy worked at Romatech Industries, not a big surprise. A lot of vampires worked there at night. The place manufactured artificial blood, which meant Gregori might not be a biter. That was good news. She wouldn't have to worry about him nibbling on her sweet little neck. If she was human.

The click of heels on linoleum warned him that Emma was approaching. She stopped in front of the photo printer and began looking at his pictures.

Maybe he'd been too hard on her. "Look, I know you have something personal against the vampires."

She shrugged one shoulder. "Where did you take these?"

"Parking lot at DVN. Last night."

"Lots of license plates." She set a stack of photos to the side. "I suppose all these cars belong to vampires."

"Most of them. Want to help me run the plates?"

"Love to." She picked up another bunch of photos.

"Emma, I won't tell Sean about Central Park, if you'll let me know whenever you go hunting again. I'll give you backup."

"That's super. Thank you." She gave him a brief smile, then resumed her study of his pictures. "These are very interesting."

"You recognize any of the cars?"

"No. But I recognize a woman's bum when I see one."

"What?"

"You must have twenty pictures of her legs and even more of her derriere. Who is she?"

Austin's nerves tensed, but he kept his face blank. He reached out his hand. "Those are personal. Give them to me."

"Doing personal business on company time? Shame on you." She set the pictures down and retrieved some more from the printer. "Oh, look. Boob shots. And the back of her head. Lovely hair."

"I said give them to me." Austin gritted his teeth and stared at the stack of pictures Emma had set down. They zipped across the table and stopped next to his keyboard.