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brought in your suitcase. The big black one.”
    I was mentally unpacking. Jeans, T-shirts. Was there anything in there that didn’t make me look fat?
    â€œYou are not fat.” Before I could do more than squeak, Flo grabbed my gown, whisked it off over my head and dropped it on the floor. “I’ll quit reading your mind tomorrow. If I don’t forget.” She took me by the shoulders and turned me around. “You have curves, Glory. Leonardo would have painted you nude, reclining on a velvet couch.” She tapped her chin. “Oh, no, that wasn’t Leo, that was my darling Pietro Rubens. I do love artists.”
    â€œHello, I’m standing here naked while you’re strolling down memory lane.”
    Flo laughed and tossed me my gown. “Be proud of your body, cara. You have the shape of a real woman. I myself have posed many, many times. The Mona Lisa. Pah! How can Leo be famous for that when he did so many lovely pictures of me ? I am even sitting next to you know who in his painting of The Last Supper.”
    â€œYou know anything about a secret code?” I couldn’t help it. I read best sellers.
    â€œForget codes. I should be hanging in the Louvre. That Lisa. A peasant.” Flo spit into her palm and shot what must be the Italian bird. “And that secret smile? I happen to know it was because she was really a he !”
    I just gaped.
    â€œHurry and get dressed. Look sexy.” Flo gave me a finger wave and headed down the hall.
    I put it in gear, eager to get out and see more of my new hometown. Florence never failed to surprise me. Some vamps swear she’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the lamp, but I don’t believe it. She’s clever enough to get vamps all over the world to take turns providing a home for her. Not just because she’s ancient, but because everyone loves her and her stories.
    Tonight’s chapter had been a doozy. She’s always sworn that Leonardo da Vinci had been vampire and her lover. Can you believe that? Even though Freddy’s heard old Leo swung the other way. Flo also claims a monk assassin staked dear Leonardo because of his blasphemies in painting The Last Supper. Too bad Flo never bothered to learn to read or write. She has a best seller in her for sure.
    An hour later we were on Sixth Street in downtown Austin checking out the club scene. It was crowded on a Saturday night. We’d left Valdez fighting off Sheba. As Freddy had said, safety in numbers.
    I’d dressed in black, slimming of course, with a lacy top that showed some cleavage, always a crowd pleaser. Flo had actually approved after she’d thrown a black and red floral shawl over my shoulders. But now she’d disappeared, merrily following a fellow vamp into a jazz club.
    â€œDon’t worry about her, she’ll be fine. In fact, she’ll probably have to take care of Trevor. You think you’ve got a sense of smell. Flo can smell emotions. Fear, hate, love. Any hunters out there and she’ll be the first to detect them.”
    â€œGood to know.” Hard to see why she’d hang out with a loser like Trevor Danforth though. I’d met him a few moments before. I don’t know what emotion Flo had detected from him, but I couldn’t forget the smell of fresh blood that had hung around him. Obviously he’d been feeding, and so early in the evening. “Why would she have to take care of Trevor?”
    â€œHe’s an alcoholic, Glory.” Derek was on one side of me, Freddy on the other. Other women looked at me with envy. If they only knew my two handsome men dressed in yummy butt-hugging denim had eyes only for each other. Bummer.
    â€œHow can a vampire be an alcoholic?” We’d stopped in front of a club with country music booming out of the open door. “All of the ones I’ve met say they can’t drink alcohol without getting sick. I only tried it once and thought I was going to