"I'm sorry, Glory. I just thought-"

I turned and put my hand on his chest. Nice warm wool plaid. And I'd suggested it.

"Forget it, Jerry. It was nice of you to add my name to your donation. Would you bring me my cloak? I'm feeling a little chilled." Not that I was freezing, but when you've made your own costume and you're not that great a seamstress . . . Well, let's just say I had issues with the top. I'd been smart enough to put on supersturdy straps. Those suckers could hold up watermelons. But, for the top itself, I'd underestimated when sewing the shiny gold fabric. Too many deep breaths or a little slippage and I was going to be showing nipple. 'Nuff said. I had shit for brains.

"Of course."

"Trouble in paradise?" Randolph rubbed against my leg with a purr. "I really am on your side, you know. Jeremiah is a habit, Glory. Look around. There are dozens of men here you could snag if you put your mind to it. Ah, here comes one now." He slunk off as Damian approached.

"Good evening, Glory! Love the costume. Let me guess. Was there a harem in Troy?" He grinned. "Or maybe Johnny Depp has taken his pirate ship to Istanbul."

"She's Princess Leia from Star Wars, Elvis." Jerry dropped my cloak over my shoulders. "Tell me you're not going to sing for us later."

"Sorry, but there are earplugs in the powder room. Feel free to avail yourself." Damian smiled and nodded toward the band. I noticed a chrome and white electric guitar on a stand nearby and a crew rolling out a gleaming ebony baby grand piano. Jerry grinned. "Which way is that powder room?"

"Hush, Jerry. I can't wait. I had no idea you could sing, Damian." Though he certainly looked the part in vintage Viva Las Vegas style. "Cute sideburns." I took another sip of my drink. Now this had an energy boost.

"Thanks. My sister promised a large donation to Igor's charity if I'd do my Elvis impersonation tonight." Damian grinned. "I've been told I'm not too awful." He picked up my hand and kissed it. "Promise you'll clap for me, Glory."

"Of course. I'm sure you'll be wonderful. Where is Prince Igor? I'd like to meet him. I've heard about him and his many charities for years."

"He and Lady Campbell are holding court in the library." Damian smiled at Jerry. "Your mother and Igor are very old friends. When my sister gets here, ask them about the scandal they caused in Venice. Your father almost divorced your mother over that one." Jerry looked startled. "I heard it was the other way around. That Ma almost divorced Da over an incident in Prague with a certain countess after the Russian Revolution."

"Then I guess they're even." Did I really want to go within a hundred feet of Jerry's mom? And wouldn't she have a laugh over my pitiful little donation to his orphanage? "Damian, do you have a basket or something where we can drop our donations?"

"Of course, Gloriana. Right over there next to the mantel." Damian gestured at the massive marble-fronted fire-place. "And there's a nice fire. Instead of wearing your cloak, you can get warm while I talk to Blade about a certain security matter. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, my dear."

"Now see, Jerry. This is why I needed to bring a laser gun. Then I could drop our host where he stands for being a Neanderthal throwback."

"Just pulling your chain, Glory. You should have seen your face." Damian grinned and clapped Jerry on the back. "Actually I want to find out how Blade managed to steal that prime piece of hilltop property out from under my nose last week." I left them talking points and interest rates and wandered over to the roaring fire flanked by stone lions. Sure enough, there was a silver basket on a stand piled with a dozen or so linen envelopes. I pulled my discount-store envelope from the pocket of my cloak and tucked it with the check inside under the stack. I figured every little bit helped. The fire was so hot I couldn't bear to keep the cloak on and dropped it on a chair.

"Glory."

I turned and saw Israel. Alone.

"Where's your entourage?"

"I think I'm safe enough in Damian's living room. Brittany and Will are around here somewhere. Nathan is with our hostess, Diana, hanging on to every word that Prince Igor has to say in the library. The prince is an interesting character. Dad's hitting on a woman who's actually his age for a change and not young enough to be his daughter." Ray nodded, and I saw his father talking to a woman I recognized instantly.

"Uh, well, on the surface, you're right. That's Richard's mother. You know, Richard's Flo's boyfriend. I'd say she looks about fifty."

"There you go. And good-looking too."

She was. Richard's mom has the same silvery blond hair as her son along with a slim figure and a wealth that bought her the best of everything. She was also a vampire who'd been made during the Crusades.

"Want to learn something new? Or has Will taught you to read minds yet?"

"No, Will never let on. He's probably reading me all the time, of course. The guy never misses a trick. Fun to have around though." Ray winked. "You're not kidding? You mean I can look at you and tell what you're thinking, not just guess?" Ray's grin was all hopeful, like it would be in the kind of naughty, get-me-into-bed thoughts women usually have about the legendary Israel Caine.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"Oh, no, you started this, you've got to finish it." Ray steered me to a couch where we could see the dance floor. "Tell me what to do."

"Okay. I think you should know a little about the woman your dad is so hotly pursuing out there." I nodded to where Des was dipping Sarah Mainwaring and she was laughing and pretending she didn't want to just sink her teeth into his neck right there and then.

Sarah was as slinky a Catwoman as I'd seen. Des had gone for a Zorro cape and black satin shirt he'd bought in my shop the night he'd hired Brittany to work for Ray. He'd left the shirt open to show off a nice chest. Obviously he kept a gym membership and used it.

"Catwoman's not really a cat, is she?"

"No, but she's not just a regular mortal either."

"Leave it to Dad. Okay, fill me in." Ray leaned forward. He'd shown up in Han Solo garb, complete with laser gun. Maybe he had a little latent mind-reading skill anyway.

"All right. Here's the deal with mind reading. I don't like to do it on a regular basis. I can read mortals easily. Usually it's too much information, if you know what I mean."

Ray grinned. "I figure some of the druggies I've been around don't have much going on upstairs at all."

"Exactly. Like some of my customers. 'Oh, gosh, is this lipstick too orange or too pink? Maybe I should change to the gloss. But then I'd have to change my nail polish too.' A giant yawn."

"I've dated those woman." Ray glanced at the dance floor and grimaced. "The old man would break out those moves." The band had switched to the disco era, and Des was trying out his John Travolta impersonation. Sarah was all over it but got tangled in Zorro's cape.

"He's cute and Sarah's really into him. So you'd better be ready for what I'm about to tell you." I faced him and opened my mind.

"Now look into my eyes. I'm going to show you what I know about Sarah Mainwaring. Just look and try to read what you see there. It should come clear to you. Like a phone call, direct message from my brain to yours. Sometimes it comes complete with pictures, like a TV show, but usually just the sound."

I told him that Sarah was an ancient vampire who'd become one after finding out that her son, a former priest, had been turned during a Crusade to the Holy Land. That she was a devoted mother, a successful investor who supported her son while he chased and eliminated dangerous rogue vampires all over the world. That she attended church and belonged to book clubs and investment clubs and would probably drink blood from his father, but definitely wouldn't kill him. As for sex . . . Well, vampires were known for strong libidos, and if he hadn't discovered that for himself yet, too bad.

Ray took a deep breath. "Well, that was a trip. I'm glad I didn't get pictures that time." He sat back and pulled out his laser gun. "I don't know whether to wish this thing was real or not. Then there's the dilemma of who to use it on-Dad, the woman, or myself. Of course there's always Lucky, but everyone on that list but dear old dad would heal, wouldn't they?" I patted him on the knee. "Now, Ray. Dad's a grown man, but, yeah, I think you at least need to take him aside and warn him what he's getting into."

"This mind-reading thing. Of course it goes two ways. So you can read mine. Go for it." He looked into my eyes, mind wide open. I held up my hand, the glimpse of desire there so unexpected that it literally knocked me back in my seat. No way. Not Israel Caine. Not after the start we'd had.

"Stop. Let me tell you something about this. You can block your thoughts. Try to read my mind now." I threw up a block. Then saw Ray concentrate. He wrinkled his brow.

"Okay, this time all I'm getting is snow. Like when the cable's out."

"Exactly. That's because I'm blocking you. You can consciously do it. And if you try to read minds at this party, you'll find that most paranormals block as a matter of course. It's a privacy issue. And it's considered rude to just go around trying to read people's minds. I personally hate it when someone pokes into mine without permission." I rubbed my forehead. Blocking always gives me a headache. Sure, my friends claim it doesn't bother them, but I guess I'm the one in a thousand who never gets used to it.

"All right, how do I do that?" Ray didn't mention the blast of lust he'd sent my way a few moments ago. Which was totally a good thing.

"Put up a mental wall. Like a brick wall. Or a metal one. Anything you want that you feel is impenetrable. Then when people try to read your thoughts, their probes will just bounce off. Like a blocked e-mail does."