Neck Deep In Vampires (A BBW Urban Fantasy) by Georgette St. Clair

That’s awfully convenient, isn’t it?”
    “I’m afraid so.  She co-owns my business with me, though, and I’ve cut off all her funding and cancelled her credit cards.  She’ll run out of money quickly.  The minute Narcissa and Emmeline get back, we will question them,” Mirabelle assured me.
    “Could Peyton’s blood have been making me weak?” I asked. “Because I didn’t start to experience those symptoms until I started feeding off her. She was constantly pushing me to feed from her, now that I think of it.”
    “If her blood was bewitched, that’s possible,” Mirabelle said.             
                  “I’m taking Barney to the clinic,” Dr. Fischer announced. “I need to  do some x-rays.”
                  I ran over and knelt over his prone form.
                  “How did you even find us, you crazy cat?” I asked him.
                  His voice was blurry with the painkillers that the veterinarian had given him. “I ran outside and waited, and a car pulled up in front of your building.  I could sense the witch energy coming from the driver, so I climbed under the undercarriage and hung on.  Then when we got here, I watched through the window. I was waiting for you guys to wake up before I made my move. You sure napped long enough.”
                  “Well, you better be okay, because I’ve got a whole boatload of tunafish waiting for you when you come home.” My voice was quavery, and I swallowed back a sob.
                  “Don’t worry,” he wheezed, as I stroked his fur. “I’ve come back from worse than this.”
                  “Really?”
                  “No, it just sounded like a good thing to say. I feel like crap.” 
                  “We’ll remove the bodies, and I’ll call you as soon as we find out anything more,” Mirabelle said.
                  “You could look into who owns or who rented this house,” I suggested.
                  “I will, but I suspect that the person behind this was smart enough to cover their tracks.”
                  My heart was heavy as we drove back to my apartment. Camille and Sandra had died because someone was after me, we were no closer to finding the missing familiars, and who knew if my powers would ever come back? All that time I’d been drinking Peyton’s delicious blood, I’d obviously been drinking some kind of poison.
                  We stopped at the doorway. “She’s dead because of me,” I said, blinking back tears.  Poor Camille, living her whole life to serve others. She’d been so close to breaking away and starting to figure out life on her own.
                  “She’s dead because of some psycho who is targeting you, and who I am going to find, and kil,” Nicholas said fervently. “Why don’t you stay in the hallway? My men are on their way here. We’ll take care of it.
                  That was Nicholas, always trying to protect me.
                  “I need to say goodbye to her,” I said.
                  She lay on the floor in an enormous pool of blood, on her back, staring sightlessly at the ceiling.
                  “Hold on,” Nicholas said, rushing over to her. I ran after him.
                  He knelt next to her. “She’s alive,” he said. “But barely. I can still sense her life force.”
                  I couldn’t even see her breathing, and my ability to sense anything was all screwed up.  “Are you sure?” I demanded. Good God, all that time I’d wasted sitting there jawing with Mirabelle while Camille lay here leaking out her life’s blood…
                  “I’m positive. She won’t make it to the hospital, though.”
                  “Turn her.”
                  Nicholas