"Prosecco please, and my friend here will have a mimosa."

"Absolutely, Miss. I'll return in one moment." The flight attendant, a thin impeccably made-up woman, turned off the call button above our heads and walked back up the aisle to the drink carts. Amelia leaned back in her seat and let out a happy sigh.

"It's barely midday. I don't want to drink," I said. Day drinking made me sleepy.

"When you're 35,000 feet in the air, it's always acceptable to drink, no matter the time," Amelia declared.

I didn't know about that, but regardless, I accepted the mimosa and a packet of mixed nuts the attendant set out on my tray table. We were somewhere over the gulf of Mexico and all I could see from the window of our Anubis flight was the dark blue of ocean and a smattering of clouds. There was something to be said about flying during daytime. The world was so open, bright and broad.

Amelia 'clinked' her plastic champagne tumbler against mine. "Prost, my friend. Yet again we see ourselves jetting off on another adventure together."

"It's a work trip."

"Come on, don't be like that! We're off to Miami on a weekend—it's work-adjacent, at best."

I pulled a face but then found myself softening a little. Her mood was infectious. I'd never been to Florida, so it felt a little like traveling internationally. Amelia's current attitude also perfectly explained her outfit. It was a little too chic for a one-and-a-half-hour domestic flight. Tan linen slacks, white silk blouse, strappy heels, her hair in a sleek bob. To be fair, flying Anubis did feel a hell of a lot more luxurious than flying cattle class on the regular domestic airlines. That many people jammed into one metal tube made for mental and sensory overload of all of my senses, not least of all my telepathic one.

"Plus," Amelia continued with a dreamy sigh, "I'm child free for the whole weekend. The first weekend in millennia!"

Amelia immediately began mentally wishing it was Hannah beside her and not me. But I couldn't fault her for that. She and Hannah were still in the throes of their honeymoon phase.

"How about I look after Felix one weekend and you and Hannah go away somewhere?" I asked.

"Get outta my head." She took a large swig of her prosecco. "But that'd be great."

"I'd love that, actually." Felix was a handful, as most three-year-olds were, but I didn't get to see him as much as I used to, and it had been an age since I'd spent any meaningful time with Corbett or Hunter. Some dedicated aunt time would be nice.

"He'd love it too. If only Bob were as enthusiastic as you when it came to offering to look after his own child."

"Why? Is he not pulling his weight? Time to formalize a custody agreement?"

Amelia snorted. "Calm down, Little Miss Law-Firm. I don't need to change a thing. I know if I try to formalize our custody arrangement, he'd just fight for more time with Felix just to spite me to get child support."

"I can put you in touch with a good family lawyer." We didn't typically handle family law at the practice, but I knew of a few names off the top of my head and could ask around the office for a personal recommendation.

"Don't bother." She let out a long, gusty sigh. "I already have one… and I don't wanna think about that right now."

"Harshing your vibe?"

"Exactly. Harshing my vibe."

We passed the flight with idle chit-chat, which was a relief after all the heavy talks I'd been privy to in the last week at work. I hadn't been able to spend much time with Eric, he was busy with the bar and the palace. Thalia was demanding more time from him, hoping to solidify her standing as a ruler in every way possible before the rug could be pulled out from under her once Sophie-Anne recovered and her existence was revealed. I hadn't heard a word about Sophie-Anne either, and Eric had remained fairly tight-lipped, not that I'd pried. I didn't want to spend our scant free time together discussing an issue that was now largely out of my control.

We landed smoothly at Miami airport and the plane taxied to a private hangar. Amelia and I, along with our luggage and our two coffins, were hustled into a large, specially-kitted Anubis van and shuttled to our hotel on South Beach.

"Oh my God," squealed Amelia. She kicked off her heels and jumped up on the hotel bed. "This place is next level." She had a luxurious twin room on the seventh floor that looked over the aquamarine waters of the Atlantic ocean. She bounced up and down and then off the bed, and pulled the balcony doors open with a flourish. "You smell that? That's the Bahamas blowing us a kiss. Oh my god, I can't believe we're here!"

I joined her and looked out at the view. Stunning. I'd never been to the tropics. The only ocean I'd ever seen was the Gulf and that was only in passing when driving. This was a different experience entirely. I took a deep breath. It had the usual salty note of the ocean, but with something more. It was thick and tropical. Tantalizing.

"What time do we go to meet the Miami vampires?" I asked.

"Not till eleven tonight." Amelia wrapped her arm around my waist.

Directly in front of the hotel was an enormous crescent-shaped pool, surrounded by palm trees. In the middle of that crescent was what looked to be a bar. A bar that was joined directly to the pool. You could swim up and order yourself a drink. Oh my stars…

"I think," I said slowly, finally catching on to all the excitement Amelia had been oozing since we'd left New Orleans, "I think, if we're not needed until 11pm, then we need to put on our bikinis, go down to that pool and order a cocktail, stat."

"Yes!"

I knocked on Eric's door at sundown, and it was answered promptly. He dragged me in by a hand, and before I knew it I was on the bed and under him.

"Mmm," he said once we finally parted from one hell-of-a hello kiss, "you smell like coconuts and sunshine and the ocean."

"You smell pretty good yourself." He was freshly showered and only half dressed. It meant short work for me in divesting him of his clothes.

"You've had a good afternoon, I take it?" he asked some minutes after a whirlwind round of lovemaking.

"Is it bad that I feel like I'm on vacation?" I said, I propped myself up on one elbow.

"When was the last time you had one?" He traced a finger across the tan line on my breast left by my bikini top today. He was quite taken with it; he'd bitten me there only minutes earlier.

"My last vacation was…" I trailed off. "I don't know. I've never really had a vacation."

Eric looked faintly surprised. "Never?"

"We had some family camping trips when I was a kid. I was never able to as an adult." There was that trip to Texas with Sam for his brother's wedding. But that hadn't really felt like a vacation by the end.

"Well, what about you?" I asked.

"Freyda and I went to Europe."

I pulled a face. I didn't want to know.

"I wasn't terribly excited to go. It's a long trip in a coffin. I mostly wanted to see that Karin was settled in her new home."

"Is she still in Montenegro?" After her and Bill parted ways, Bill told me she was returning to Europe.

"She does prefer warmer climates. She's in Spain on the coast."

Karin and I had at best a cordial acquaintance. I couldn't say she really liked me or I her, but she'd certainly helped me out of a bind in the past. It was strange how naturally Pam and I fell into friendship and how that wasn't even close to the same for me and Karin.

We dressed, Eric in a slim fit navy suit and I returned to my white cotton sundress. I knocked on Bubba's door which was a number of doors down from Eric. He answered and I was surprised to see him dressed in a pressed, tan linen suit. The look was quite becoming. He assured me that he'd been fed and cast a knowing glance between Eric and I. I felt a predictable blush form on my cheeks.

Amelia was waiting for us down in the lobby and we took a cab from the hotel to the headquarters of the Miami vampires. The ruler of Florida, King Erasmus, was based out of Jacksonville, Eric explained. But the Area Sheriff for this part of the state was based out of a nightclub in Miami called Protégé. I supposed it wasn't that unusual. Eric and Pam certainly couldn't have been the first authority figures to run their base of operations from their business.

Protégé was not a vampire themed nightclub, however. It was more than that. It was the club to rule all clubs. Smack bang in the middle of Miami Beach esplanade, situated in one of the ritziest hotels, the club was a draw card for celebrities, tourists and locals alike, at least according to the pamphlet I'd found in the foyer of our hotel. We were dropped off out the front of the hotel and were met by a waiting concierge who took us through to the club.

"The club doesn't open until 11:30," the concierge explained. That was late, even by New Orleans standards. The party scene back home was hopping by ten p.m. on weekends year round.

"Is that late for here?" I asked.

"Not really."

I probed his mind a little and pieced together that it also allowed the vampires to see to their own business before the club got too busy. Sensible, I guess.

The Area Sheriff, a vampire by the name of Michalis, was waiting for us at the club entrance. He was exactly what I pictured a Miami nightclub owner to look like. Broad and muscular yet sleek. He wore a tight white shirt unbuttoned to the chest, with black leather pants held in place by a Prada belt. It wasn't often that you met a vampire with a perfect five o'clock shadow, but he was one. Amelia's thoughts barreled into my mind for a moment when she spotted the watch on his wrist. He was wearing several hundred thousand dollars' worth of Rolex. I tried not to stare but it was a little hard. The piece on his wrist was worth more than my home and land in Bon Temps.

Michalis greeted Bubba with a veneer of warmth and introduced himself to us oozing a similar fake sincerity. He led us through the club, which smelled of old booze and cleaning solution. I guessed it didn't matter how well you cleaned a club, fancy or not, you couldn't get rid of that stink.

The main club area was as big as an arena, with a sweeping staircase at the back that led to a mezzanine floor that looked out on the main dance floor. Several staff were already on the clock, buzzing around behind the bar (that took up the entire right wall), and setting up lighting and rigging at the dj booth. Hard to think this place would probably be thick with bodies in just a few hours.

Michalis guided us to a little nook between two booths in the corner which revealed a small corridor with a private elevator. Up the elevator and we were inside a hidden glass-encased viewing platform of the whole club. His office.

There was a large marble desk to one side, an enormous half-circle couch upholstered in velvet, as well as several filing cabinets. A high-tech security system with multiple flat screen computer monitors took up the other corner of the room. I walked to the windows and looked down at the dance floor. I didn't notice this viewing area when I was down below.

"It's one way glass," Michalis explained, when I voiced the question. "Sound proof, also. Makes for interesting people watching."

He didn't strike me as a people watcher. Not a voyeur, either. More like someone who had to be in control at all times. His gaze had a steely assessing quality as they moved between us. Like a bird of prey.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the couches. "My staff will bring any drink you wish. Or you may avail yourself to our on-site donors." I'd heard the laws about vampire feeding in public establishments were different here, but still, I grimaced at this.

"Things are slightly more progressive here than Louisiana," he said, noting my reaction. He sat on a wingback chair that faced the couch, and which also put him at a height advantage to us. Yeah, this guy totally had a thing about control.

Amliea, Bubba and I sat quietly as Eric and Michalis launched into a conversation on their respective businesses, Eric asking polite and pointed questions about how business was faring in the area. It was a political dance I'd seen played out many times in my encounters with vampires. Amelia fidgeted in her seat. Bubba seemed to be sinking further and further down into the couch cushions, his ruddy features taking on a somewhat harassed quality.

"Now, onto the matter of our friend Bubba here," Michalis said. "We all were quite concerned when he went AWOL."

"You were?" Eric responded coolly. "I was under the impression that no one knew of his absence until he made his bedraggled appearance in our state."

"Enquiries were being made here." Michalis leaned against the armrest of his chair, a move that felt both relaxed and deliberate. "You can understand the delicate nature of launching an investigation on someone of Bubba's renown."

"It took him weeks to make his way across to Louisiana. I think that warranted a little more than discreet investigations," Eric said.

"All?" I asked.

Everyone's attention turned to me and I flashed a bright, uncomfortable smile. I had been listening intently, but my mind had latched onto the word the Florida Sheriff had said earlier.

"Sorry," I said. "But, you said, 'we all were concerned'. Who else are you referring to? Bubba is being rather tight-lipped about his dealings here."

I reached over and took Bubba's hand, who squeezed it tightly in return.

"Bubba was well-regarded by many here, but I am mostly referring to Letitia and Cassia. You were staying with them, weren't you, Bubba?"

Bubba nodded and seemed to shrink even further into himself.

"Letitia and Cassia operate an art gallery in the metro area," Michalis said.

"It's not a gallery," Bubba said, "It's a museum, unveiling the splendor of ages past." He said it like he was reciting a slogan. "The Museum of Opulent Arts and Antiquities."

"Of course, I misspoke, you are quite right," Michalis said with a deep nod. "They generously hosted him for a number of months. Until… there were some issues. Bubba was asked to leave."

"I was cursed!" Bubba said. "Cursed by the evil eye." He made a sign of the cross with his free hand.

"Apparently so," Michalis said with a placating tone. "I can't say I really came to the source of what truly happened."

"Did you send an investigator?" Eric asked.

"Why? My investigator's skills are in high demand here. I was not moved to waste their time coming to the bottom of some middling domestic issues."

Middling! I swallowed the urge to shout.

"I take it you haven't seen Bubba's effect when it is not muted," Eric said, displaying more patience than I possessed.

"I became acquainted with it at my home residence," he said. "Bubba stayed for one day. Let's just say I've had to send contractors over to fix some substantial issues to my custom entertainment center."

"Sorry," Bubba mumbled.

"It is no matter. I can clearly see you are cured of your curse, as you call it."

"Not quite," Eric said. "But you know that already."

They fell silent and some sort of tense conversation played out only between eye contact with them.

"Of course, otherwise why else would you be here?" Michalis concluded.

Eric and Michalis then continued to speak at length about nothing pertaining to our visit, it was largely an endeavor to see which vampire of the two could make the biggest thinly-veiled threat to the other. It felt like the vampire equivalent of exchanging pleasantries with someone you went to high school with when you bump into them grocery shopping. It's a means to an end. Ya just gotta get through it.

"Welcome to the state of Florida," Michalis concluded, spreading his hands wide. Evidently their little word fight had been settled to his satisfaction. "You have free reign to conduct your investigations. I only ask that should you find any fault of Bubba's curse lying on the shoulders of one of our fine state's vampire residents, or one of the subjects of our state's King, that you defer to me regarding punishment."

"I can't imagine that being a problem," Eric said.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Eric grunted, unhappy to have his attempt to sidestep a real answer taken from him.

"Excellent," Michalis intoned in a way that was reminiscent of a popular character from The Simpsons. "Let me organize a car for you so that you won't need to worry about transportation this evening. It's the least I can do."

Micalis walked us back through the club, and over to the enormous circular portes-cochères at the main entrance of the hotel. Amelia and I trailed behind, while Bubba walked ahead of us, his head down, diamante cowboy hat pulled low. In Shreveport, he would've stuck out like a sore thumb, but in New Orleans and here in Miami, Bubba's attempts at fitting in with the crowd actually worked.

"Oh my God," Amelia hissed in my ear. "Is that the car?"

Michalis heard this and turned to flash a brilliant, white-toothed grin at Amelia. "I don't do anything by half-measures, Miss Broadway."

A long white stretch limo with the club's name emblazoned in shiny holographic print along the side was waiting for us at the curb. Before we got in, Michalis grabbed mine and Amelia's hands and pressed a kiss to the backs of each.

"Come back later when your business has concluded, ladies," he said. "I promise you a night to remember."

"At your club, you mean?" I asked flatly.

"Yes," he answered, though his eyes were trained on Amelia hungrily.

Amelia was radiating heat and excitement as we drove away.

"What do you think Hannah's doing tonight?" I asked pointedly.

"He was hot, okay?" she said and scowled. "You can't judge me for thinking thoughts."

I slid into the back of the limo and found myself sitting beside Eric. Though I left a respectful amount of distance between us both; I didn't like the idea of participating in PDA on a work trip.

"Did you stay at the museum?" I asked Bubba.

He nodded, though his gaze was trained on the bright lights of Ocean Drive as we slipped into traffic.

"That must've been interesting." Bubba wasn't always the most talkative vamp, but it had been difficult getting him to open up about his time in Florida. "Can you tell me a little about it?"

"They have a mummy in its original tomb," he said. "Covered in hieroglyphics. Some kinda x-ray machine showed it died of a head injury."

"Did you sleep in the museum?" Amelia asked. "Or did they give you a room?"

"You'll see, Miss Amelia, it was quite the accommodations."

Indeed, it was. The museum was twenty minutes from downtown Miami, set on an enormous estate. Eric looked up the location on his cell phone on the drive over. It was apparently once built by some mogul who made his riches in the height of the dot-com era selling stock… and trafficking cocaine. The building itself was an enormous Tuscan-style villa with a red-tile roof and stucco walls. The gardens were brightly lit with rolling lawns and lush pockets of tropical garden. It was busier than I expected when we arrived at the end of the long driveway. Groups of people, dressed to the nines, lingered on the lawn, holding glasses of champagne.

"Busy," Amelia remarked.

I closed my eyes, listening in. "There's a wedding on the grounds tonight."

"That happens," said Bubba. "I'm meant to stay out of the museum for functions. And sales."

"Sales?" asked Eric.

"There's a gallery. They don't like me around for sales."

The limo drew attention but not an undue amount. We were able to get out and walk into the museum without being stopped, despite it being closed for a private function. I guess arriving in a limo had worked to our advantage somewhat, we seemed like we belonged at the event.

On our walk inside, I noted the reception was being hosted outside at the side of the building. There were tables and a dancefloor where people danced and a band was playing a catchy rendition of a Joe Cocker hit. We made it as far as the main foyer of the museum when a vampire zipped in and cut us off.

"Bubba!" The vampire looked panicked. "What are you doing here?"

Bubba began to respond but she grabbed him by the arm and marched him to the side. "You can't be here," she hissed. "It's too dangerous."

"For him or for you?" Eric asked, stepping to Bubba's aid.

The vampire just now took note of our existence. Her face darkened and she bared her fangs. "What is this? A shakedown?"

"We're here on behalf of Louisiana, to work out what happened to Bubba and undo it," Amelia said.

"I don't know what happened to Bubba. But I cannot have him here among priceless antiquities."

"He's fine for now," Amelia said, "I've been able to counteract whatever has been done to him."

"And who are you?" the vampire snapped.

Amelia stuck out her hand. Between her two fingers she held a business card. "Amelia Broadway, consultant, Mystic Security."

The vampire took the card and regarded it with disdain.

"And who are you?" Eric asked in return.

"This is Miss Cassia," Bubba said. "Miss Cassia, these are my friends from Louisiana. Eric, Amelia, and Sookie."

"Are you sure about that?" Cassia asked Amelia, and belatedly I realized she was asking about her ability to counteract Bubba's curse.

"Yes," Amelia said firmly. She had changed into a business suit since our afternoon by the pool. She lifted her chin and regarded Cassia with a look as cool as cucumber. "But I'd like to ask you some questions first."

Cassia huffed and checked her watch. "I don't have time for this right now. I'm running a function and I'm currently in charge of a million moving parts. Go into the museum, but only if you're sure you won't ruin anything." She gave us a hard look. "Bubba can show you around and I'll meet you there later."
"Thank you," Bubba said.

"Anything starts to go haywire you're immediately evicted. I mean it," she growled and marched away.

Bubba led us past the entrance hall and to a corridor-like room beyond lined with oil paintings. The wooden parquet floor had a path marked by a plush red carpet that led into a large internal room. This room was filled with statuary.

"This is the hall of statues," Bubba said, gesturing. He gave a little impromptu tour of the statues and sculptures in the exhibit. It ranged from rescued and restored pieces from the Roman era through to the modern art created in the last decade. I found it fascinating, taking time to read the little printed placards that described the history of each piece. He then led us through a series of themed rooms containing paintings and other sculptures. One room was a small movie theater where he explained modern art films were shown on occasion.

"You must've liked staying here," Amelia said. "It's extremely interesting."

"I like the art. I like Cassia. I liked… Letitia too," he said, his tone becoming low and glum. Amelia caught my eye and I nodded. Yep, I caught that too.

Hoping I sounded off-handed, I asked, "Where is she? Letitia?"

"She's gone," Bubba said, and his gaze slipped past me to stare unfocused at a sculpture of a human figure made of polished wood.

"For good?" Eric asked.

"She had to leave. Cassia said."

"Why?" I probed.

"Cassia said so. But we were all three happy here."

"Why did Cassia say?"

"I wanted her to stay!" Bubba said, his voice echoing with a sudden ferocity. "I wanted her to stay!" His face crumpled and Amelia darted to his side, wrapping an arm around him.

"It's okay," she murmured soothingly.

"What's this about?" Eric asked me quietly. I frowned at him. Was it really that difficult to piece together?

"Ask him. Or listen to his back catalog sometime," I murmured back.

I wandered through on my own to some other rooms. The museum itself was empty aside from us. The lights in each room were motion operated, and I found it supremely interesting to step inside a darkened room to be greeted by a flood of light and something else interesting to look at.

The mansion was like a rabbit warren. Whoever had designed it had done so in a way that made you lose your bearings. If it weren't for my telepathic ability to sense the general location of Amelia, Eric and Bubba, I would've had a hell of a time finding my way back to them. It was room after room with nary a window or way to mark what direction you're facing. Maybe that was the point. You'd become so absorbed in admiring the art that you would be forced to work your way out of this labyrinthian home and have to enjoy all the art all over again.

One room was covered with interesting portraits by the one artist, a gritty realistic style in oil paint. I noticed that all of those were for sale. I found myself in another room with ancient relics. I found myself drawn to a small statue of a carved owl from Ancient Egypt.

"It's impressive, isn't it?" Cassia was at my side again, and I jumped.

"Oh! You snuck up on me," I said.

She offered me a cool smile. "What is it that you think you'll find here?"

"I don't know… something that explains Bubba's current predicament."

"Like what? An empty potion bottle?" She sounded scornful.

"No, but what about some sort of cursed object?" I shrugged. "Or some clue that would explain exactly what happened to Bubba. Do you have any idea what could've happened to him? Was he involved with witches… or?" I shrugged. "Anything unusual?"

"No cursed objects. At least any that we know of. Witches no."

I wasn't planning on taking her word for it, but rather hoping Amelia would be able to detect if that were actually the case.

"What about witches? Or other magical folk?"

"No. I mean it's not like we kept him on a tight leash here. Bubba was free to come and go as he pleased. I can't tell you exactly what he got up to, but nothing remarkable occurred while he stayed with us. At least, not to my knowledge." Cassia had an interesting way of speaking, a slight airy lilt that made every statement sound-almost child-like. It somehow matched her fine boned features and wispy brown hair, and even the floaty green evening dress she wore.

"What about Letitia?" I said the name lightly, and pretended to look at the next exhibit piece. Clearly something had happened between this other woman Letitia and Bubba but I wanted to make the pretense of sniffing around innocently first.

"What about her?"

"Bubba mentioned her. Would she know anything else?"

"She very well could."

"And where is she now?"

"She works at our sister museum."

"You have a sister-site?"

"Yes, we do indeed. In fact, if you're going to find a cursed object that would be the place to look."

"Really?" I looked her way.

"The M

useum of the Ancient Occult."

Hello lead. Nice to meet you.

"Did Bubba spend much time there?"

"As far as I'm aware, Bubba didn't spend any time there."

Okay.. so that might be a bust, then.

"And why doesn't Letitia help you here now?" I asked.

Cassia moved from me to regard a large gold and blue aztec-style tapestry. "Letitia was, let's just say, a fan of Bubba's."

"A fan?" It took me half a second to get at what she meant. "You mean of his living work?"

"Very much so. It was becoming a bit of a problem. And if you've spent any meaningful time with Bubba, you will know how agitated he can get if reminded too much of his former life."

Yes, I did indeed know that.

"So we sent her away, though Bubba complained bitterly. But I'm trying to run a successful venture here." She lifted her hands in frustration. "I can't have my business partner mooning over someone, while I'm doing all the hard yards trying to expand into a new income stream. She was no help at all. Better she direct her efforts at the other museum than derail mine."

"New income stream… you mean hosting weddings?"

"Events, in general," she said. As if on queue, her cell phone began to ring. She removed it from her pocket, her expression taking on a harried quality as she looked at the screen. "I have to get back out there. The mother of the bride isn't happy."

Eric appeared in the doorway coming from a room that held a variety of art that mostly featured abstract nudes. I flashed him a quick smile.

"Do you think you can you give me the address of this other museum?" I asked Cassia.

A/N Sorry for the extended hiatus...!