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People in the crowd are nodding. A few women lean forward, clearly connecting with what she’s saying.

Georgie’s hand shoots up.

Morticia gives a nervous laugh. “We’ll take questions later⁠—”

“This can’t wait,” Georgie all but shouts. “Vampyra, how easy is it to land a man in that getup? And more importantly, how fast can that man land you on your back and get you out of that getup?”

The crowd erupts with whooping laughter, and someone whistles from the back row.

Honestly, after Vampyra’s reminder about last night, I think Georgie was the comedic relief we’ve all been needing.

Ella claps her hands from the stroller and shrieks with delight, which is mortifying because she’s picking up on the energy, and I’m suddenly very aware that I brought my one-year-old daughter to what is rapidly becoming an R-rated panel discussion.

Mom sinks lower in her seat. Why. Why do I choose this level of chaos each and every day? I might need to cancel my next playdate with Georgie just to maintain my sanity.

I bite down on a smile. We all know Mom would have gone mad long ago if it wasn’t for Georgie. As different as they are, they can’t live without one another.

Vampyra throws her head back and laughs, and it’s genuine and infectious. “Honey, it depends on the man and how good he is with his hands and his fangs. But in my experience? The corset does half the work.”

More noise from the crowd. I glance down at Ella, who’s bouncing in her stroller and babbling happily, completely oblivious to the fact that Georgie just asked a question that would make a sailor blush.

She won’t remember any of this. I hope. She doesn’t understand any of this. I certainly hope. But I’m still wondering if bringing her along was a terrible parenting decision.

Something tells me I’ll be wondering that very same thing each time she’s around Georgie. And maybe me.

From the sidelines near the woods, I spot Macy breezing in late, scanning the crowd until she finds her mark. She plops down in the empty seat next to me, wearing yet another red dress, even lower-cut than the one before, if that were at all possible, but now with added Halloween accessories—bat earrings, a spiderweb necklace, and her oversized purse that I know for a fact is full of candle samples. She’s nothing if not tenacious when it comes to peddling her wares.

“How’s the investigation going?” she whispers.

“Shh. I’m just here as an inn owner.” I wink her way.

“Sure, you are.” Macy nods toward Vampyra on stage. “You notice she keeps looking in the direction of the woods? Like she’s waiting for someone?”

I follow her gaze. She’s right. Vampyra’s eyes keep drifting to the tree line behind the stage where a wall of evergreens goes forth for miles.

“Maybe she’s just nervous,” I say.

Macy grins. “Or maybe she’s got an entire coven of vampires waiting to ravage her in the woods. Multiple vampires. All at once. That would be ridiculously ambitious.”

I snort. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m jealous. And observant. But mostly jealous.”

I look around at the crowd of almost exclusively women dressed as horror hostesses, laughing about vampires and monsters and things that go bump in the night.

But there might just be a real monster here tonight. One who already killed once and might be planning to do it again.

And she just might be sitting on that stage.

CHAPTER 7

Morticia tries to regain control of the panel right here at The Scream Queens Showcase, which is well underway with lots of chaos, innuendo, and have I mentioned Georgie and my hot-to-trot spicy sister? Those last two would be the predominant factors in the chaos department. Nothing new there.

“Now let’s discuss your career trajectory,” Morticia is quick to say. “Vampyra, you started small and built a significant following. What’s your advice for aspiring horror hostesses?”

Vampyra leans back, completely at ease as she takes a moment to glance at the ever-darkening sky, purple with pink highlights. “Start with what you have. I began filming in my apartment with a webcam and a bedsheet for a backdrop. What matters is authenticity and consistency. Your audience can tell when you’re faking it.”

Macy gives a sage nod. “I’ve come to that same conclusion so many times.”