Even Vampires Get the Blues by Katie MacAlister

covered by the dress. I don’t know if it’s going to recover.”
    â€œClare has been shot. She’s delusional, babbling on about a dress,” I said aside as I grabbed my sweater and yanked it over my head, my voice muffled as I asked into the phone, “Clare? Are you seeing things? Strange, unreal things?”
    â€œWell, I consider my dress with bullet holes in it a strange, unreal thing, so if that’s what you mean, yes. It’s a mess, Sam, a mess, absolutely destroyed. I’ve tried for half an hour to get the blood out, and it won’t come out! I’m so annoyed I could just scream!”
    I stared at Paen in confused horror. He had donned his shirt and was quickly buttoning it.
    â€œHow bad is she? What hospital is she at?” he asked. “I’ll take you there.”
    Clare continued to rant about her dress. I shook my head, trying to figure out just how badly she was hurt.
    â€œClare? You didn’t get shot in the head, did you?” I asked. “Are you lucid?”
    â€œOf course I’m lucid. Haven’t you been listening to me? My dress is ruined!” she wailed.
    I rubbed my forehead as Paen helped me to my feet, waiting not-so-patiently for me to answer his questions. I was so bemused by the fact that Clare seemed more concerned for a dress than her own bullet-riddled body that I couldn’t seem to think straight. “Yeah, but . . . Clare, exactly where were you shot?”
    â€œTwice in the chest, once in the stomach.”
    â€œSamantha?” Paen said, clearly wanting an update.
    I covered the mouthpiece. “She’s been shot in thechest and stomach, but she doesn’t seem to care much about that.”
    One of Paen’s expressive eyebrows rose slightly. “She is a faery. She is immortal. Bullets can’t kill her.”
    â€œNo, but they can hurt her,” I snapped, immediately feeling bad. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get irritated, but Clare seems to be more worried about her dress than anything else.”
    â€œSam? Did you hear me? What am I going to do?” Clare’s plaintive voice sobbed in my ear.
    â€œDon’t worry, we’ll be there as quickly as we can. Where are you?”
    â€œOn Dunstan Moor.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œDunstan Moor. It’s in the Lammermuir Hills. They’re shooting a movie here, and Finn is part of a historical group that’s providing extras for the movie, and we decided it would be fun to join in. Since he didn’t think it was a good idea me meeting with the fence on my own, we arranged to meet him here.”
    â€œOn the set of a movie?” I asked, more than a little incredulous.
    â€œIt’s not as movie-like as you’d think. Evidently the primarily filming was already done, and they’re just doing a few more battle scenes—”
    I sighed. Only my cousin would think nothing was wrong with meeting a fence in a location where there were plenty of witnesses to watch. “Dunstan Moor. Got it.”
    â€œYou’re coming? You’ll bring help?” she asked, her voice plaintive.
    â€œPolice, paramedics, or both?” I asked.
    There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Neither, silly! I need an emergency dry cleaner!”
    I lost my patience then. “Honest to god, Clare, you act like the dress is more important than you being shot!”
    â€œOf course it is! It’s a Versace, you idiot! Bring help! I’m going to save this dress at all costs.”

Chapter 5
    â€œCan anyone tell me why . . .” I asked half an hour later as Paen and I stopped in front of Clare. She stood with a familiar dark-haired, dark-eyed man, both of them leaning over a small, portable plastic table spread with a wispy, gauzy bit of fabric in green, blue, and gold that I assumed was the all-so-important dress in question. We were a good fifteen yards away from a brightly lit