Connor’s jaw dropped. “Bloody hell!” He leaped toward the screen and punched the buttons to record and turn up the volume.

“—reached the pinnacle of my journalistic career,” Corky said, motioning to her guest. “It is an honor to have you on my show, Casimir.”

Father Andrew gasped. “That’s Casimir?”

Connor zipped over to the desk and hit the alarm button that emitted a sound too high-pitched for human ears. The Vamps and shifters in the fellowship hall would hear it and rush to the office within seconds.

Connor glanced down at the dagger in his knee sock while he reached overhead to make sure his claymore was in place. “Tell them I went to DVN,” he told the priest, then teleported away.

There was a big sign posted just inside the Brooklyn headquarters of the Digital Vampire Network. Auditions tonight for All My Vampires! Male romantic lead role.

Connor frowned as he pushed his way into the crowded waiting room. Apparently, over a hundred young Vamps wanted to star in DVN’s most popular soap opera. They’d come dressed for the part, most of them in black tuxedos. Others had opted for costumes: a gladiator, a matador, a Dracula with a long silk cape. Connor wrinkled his nose at the staggering scent of cologne and hair gel.

“Hey!” A young Vamp in a black trench coat and dark sunglasses nudged him. “You have to get in line first to fill out the forms.” He pointed a black-painted fingernail at the queue that snaked around the room.

Connor reached overhead and pulled out his claymore. With a chorus of gasps and squeals, the lads parted like the Red Sea.

“Aw, shoot, he brought his own props,” muttered a young Vamp in a cowboy costume. “And that kilt looks awesome. I wish I’d thought of that.”