Uptight, I ate my last piece of shrimp cocktail and took a sip of soda, eying the beautiful servers moving around the tables. Every last one of them was a living vampire, and I thought it odd that vampires and the beach seemed to mix so well.

Still hungry, I ran my finger through the shrimp sauce and licked it off. I was on the outside of the semicircle with my back to the kitchen. Ye olde demon killer was to my left, then Trent, Vivian, and Ivy on the other end. Jenks was on the candle centerpiece, almost asleep despite the noise. My phone said it was seven thirty, but it felt like ten thirty, naptime for pixies and elves on East Coast time. Jenks looked better now that we’d quit moving. I was feeling better now that I’d had a shower and was in a fresh pair of jeans and a black camisole. I hadn’t yet talked to Trent about his new friend, Ku’Sox; I was still trying to wrap my mind around Pierce. He was a black witch. There was no denying it. Maybe instead of trying to figure out if it was wrong to like him or not, I should do the smart thing and…forget about him.

Grimacing, I turned my phone to vibrate and tucked it in a back pocket. Jenks had talked to his kids earlier, and I’d fielded another chat with Bis. Apparently he’d woken up this afternoon for a few minutes and wanted to talk to his folks about having seen the sun. They were at the basilica, a good five minutes’ flight away, and he didn’t want to leave the pixies alone unless we knew about it. He was a good kid. I was surprised, though. Most gargoyles couldn’t stay awake during the day until they were much older.

“Hey, Ivy,” I said, leaning across the table. “How come everyone working in here is a vampire? Some kind of union thing?”

Vivian looked up from her corn chips, clearly eager to answer, but Ivy was quicker. I’d seen her watching some of the prettier ones with more than a passing interest. “They’re working off their debts,” she said as she sipped her soda, looking as sexy as a vodka commercial.

I glanced at our server flirting with a table of four businessmen, then the vampire stud Ivy had been eying since we walked in. “Really?”

“Really,” Vivian said when Ivy air-kissed her chosen one. “The head vampire in Vegas has a policy of free movement on his turf. Otherwise there might be a drop in revenue from the gambling. No one leaves with an outstanding debt. Dead or alive.”

Trent was nodding as if he’d known, but I’d never heard of an undead vampire having control of another vampire’s family member, even temporarily. I turned to Ivy to see her blushing a faint, eager red. “That’s why we’re stopping in Vegas,” I guessed, and she nodded, eyes on the table as Jenks snorted himself awake with a burst of yellow dust.