his bimbos say, even after he dumps them and breaks their hearts. They say, 'Oh, Art, I'll die without him, he's so much fun in bed.' " She drew a tight little tulip. "Why can't I get a man like that?"
Violet dropped a steak on the grill, put some rolls into the cooling oven, and came over to look. "You will, sweetie. Think open. Think uninhibited. Look at that sorry little flower you just drew. Not happy. Not having fun."
"Right." Artemisia swiped the icing into her mouth and tried again.
"As for you," Violet told her sister, "Gideon is exactly what you need. You take everything too seriously. It's about time you had sex with someone fun. Well, it's about time you had sex, period, but if you don't enjoy it, it's not much fun."
"Very profound, but how can I have fun when the whole time I'm thinking down the road? If he doesn't freak out afterward, thinking he's got HIV or been bitten by the devil, he'll get possessive, and then when I tell him to leave me alone he'll get depressed and suicidal, or obsessed, and he'll start stalking me or--"
"Gideon would never stalk anyone," Art inserted, offended. "If you want to get rid of him, all you have to do is talk too much." She grimaced. "Our mother talked all the time, like me, and our father was a pigheaded old grump. Gideon's terrified that's where he'll end up, so his relationships never get past having sex."
"What could be better, angel?" Violet said. "Indulge yourself and then dump him without a second thought. He'll handle it. He looks perfectly stable."
"My father looked stable," Ophelia said icily. "Then he killed himself."
Art's hand froze in midair. "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry!"
Violet made a disgusted noise. "Your father was a jealous fool, Ophelia. We're half sisters, by the way, Art. My father was Mom's first husband. Ophelia's dad was her second. He was obsessed with the thought that she was cheating, although she never looked at another man until the day she left him. After that, of course, she went wild, until she married a religious pervert who thinks drinking blood is a sin. Fortunately, he's willing to put his soul on the line to have sex with her." She flipped the first steak over and put three more on the grill.
"I'm not marrying anyone," Ophelia said.
"Speaking of perverts," Zelda remarked, looking uncharacteristically solemn, "I had coffee with Joanna Wyler this afternoon." She set down a bowl of neon purple icing.
Ophelia glanced up. "Did you find anything out?"
"Sort of," Zelda admitted. "It doesn't make any sense, though. She says her dad says you're a bad influence. Does he know you're a vamp?"
"I don't think so," Ophelia replied. "That would make him even more persistent. And it's not like I can turn Joanna into a vamp. You're either born with the gene or you aren't." She searched Zelda's face. "What? Does he think I'm lesbian because of my rep for hating men?"
Zelda shifted uneasily. "Something like that."
"So what?" Violet turned three of the steaks over. "It's not a crime. Not that a law would stop any of us. But Willy's not a gay-basher. Lisa's sister is lesbian. They have gay friends." When Zelda still held back, she added, "Spit it out, for God's sake!" She reached into the fridge for a salad.
"It's majorly dumb," Zelda said. "Put the salad down, Mom. Step back from the counter."
"Tell me!"
Zelda planted her hands on her hips. "I mean it, Mom."
Her mother rolled her eyes and complied.
"Okay," Zelda said. "He thinks Ophelia's...into kids."
Violet surged forward, stopped, returned to the stove, tossed the steaks onto plates, then stalked out the back door onto the porch. She slammed the door, screamed, then stormed back inside to grab the phone off the wall. Her voice was low and furious. "I'll have Lep beat him up. Then I'll have Constantine kill him. No, I'll kill him myself." She mashed numbers with a trembling hand.
"No!" Ophelia made a grab for the phone, tripped over the shopping bag, and landed on her knees. Vi grabbed the
Violet dropped a steak on the grill, put some rolls into the cooling oven, and came over to look. "You will, sweetie. Think open. Think uninhibited. Look at that sorry little flower you just drew. Not happy. Not having fun."
"Right." Artemisia swiped the icing into her mouth and tried again.
"As for you," Violet told her sister, "Gideon is exactly what you need. You take everything too seriously. It's about time you had sex with someone fun. Well, it's about time you had sex, period, but if you don't enjoy it, it's not much fun."
"Very profound, but how can I have fun when the whole time I'm thinking down the road? If he doesn't freak out afterward, thinking he's got HIV or been bitten by the devil, he'll get possessive, and then when I tell him to leave me alone he'll get depressed and suicidal, or obsessed, and he'll start stalking me or--"
"Gideon would never stalk anyone," Art inserted, offended. "If you want to get rid of him, all you have to do is talk too much." She grimaced. "Our mother talked all the time, like me, and our father was a pigheaded old grump. Gideon's terrified that's where he'll end up, so his relationships never get past having sex."
"What could be better, angel?" Violet said. "Indulge yourself and then dump him without a second thought. He'll handle it. He looks perfectly stable."
"My father looked stable," Ophelia said icily. "Then he killed himself."
Art's hand froze in midair. "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry!"
Violet made a disgusted noise. "Your father was a jealous fool, Ophelia. We're half sisters, by the way, Art. My father was Mom's first husband. Ophelia's dad was her second. He was obsessed with the thought that she was cheating, although she never looked at another man until the day she left him. After that, of course, she went wild, until she married a religious pervert who thinks drinking blood is a sin. Fortunately, he's willing to put his soul on the line to have sex with her." She flipped the first steak over and put three more on the grill.
"I'm not marrying anyone," Ophelia said.
"Speaking of perverts," Zelda remarked, looking uncharacteristically solemn, "I had coffee with Joanna Wyler this afternoon." She set down a bowl of neon purple icing.
Ophelia glanced up. "Did you find anything out?"
"Sort of," Zelda admitted. "It doesn't make any sense, though. She says her dad says you're a bad influence. Does he know you're a vamp?"
"I don't think so," Ophelia replied. "That would make him even more persistent. And it's not like I can turn Joanna into a vamp. You're either born with the gene or you aren't." She searched Zelda's face. "What? Does he think I'm lesbian because of my rep for hating men?"
Zelda shifted uneasily. "Something like that."
"So what?" Violet turned three of the steaks over. "It's not a crime. Not that a law would stop any of us. But Willy's not a gay-basher. Lisa's sister is lesbian. They have gay friends." When Zelda still held back, she added, "Spit it out, for God's sake!" She reached into the fridge for a salad.
"It's majorly dumb," Zelda said. "Put the salad down, Mom. Step back from the counter."
"Tell me!"
Zelda planted her hands on her hips. "I mean it, Mom."
Her mother rolled her eyes and complied.
"Okay," Zelda said. "He thinks Ophelia's...into kids."
Violet surged forward, stopped, returned to the stove, tossed the steaks onto plates, then stalked out the back door onto the porch. She slammed the door, screamed, then stormed back inside to grab the phone off the wall. Her voice was low and furious. "I'll have Lep beat him up. Then I'll have Constantine kill him. No, I'll kill him myself." She mashed numbers with a trembling hand.
"No!" Ophelia made a grab for the phone, tripped over the shopping bag, and landed on her knees. Vi grabbed the
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