“And so are his buddies,” he said.
Chapter 13
“No way.” I shook my head. “Richard’s not a vampire. Neither are his friends. You’re being ridiculous.”
George stood up from the sofa. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter, I guess.”
I grabbed his brown-leather-clad leg and stared up at him. “Of course it matters. This is important. Why would you think something like that, anyhow?”
“Other than the keg of blood he just rolled across the dance floor? I just know. It’s a Spidey-sense kind of thing. Since you’ve got your fangs now, I’m surprised you don’t feel it, too.”
“Spidey-sense? No. No way.”
“Anyhow”—George rolled his eyes—“let’s move on, shall we? The boss wants me to escort you personally back to Toronto. So, let’s say, noonish tomorrow?”
I stood up, feeling tense—from my ugly purple beaded earrings to my nice silver three-inch mules. “You can’t just tell me my cousin married a vampire and then change the subject.”
“Why?”
“Because”—I flailed my arms, looking for a reason I could pinpoint—“because he’s a vampire, that’s why. Missy’s a human. Hello? And from what I’ve gone through in the past day, I can vouch for it being a mondo bad idea. Unless…” I put a hand to my mouth to stop a gasp. “Unless Missy’s a vampire, too. Is she?”
“She is so not a vampire.”
I let out a long sigh. Lucky Missy. “Then I need to tell her what she’s gotten herself into. The wedding’s already happened, but she can always get it annulled.” I paused. “I just hope she doesn’t end up with more cats because of this.”
“Yeah, you go tell her.” George sounded as if he couldn’t care less. “And I’m going to go dance.”
We parted as soon as we walked back into the reception hall. George took over the dance floor, dragging my mother up with him for a rousing rendition of the Macarena, and I scanned the room. Before speaking to Missy, I needed to confront Richard. Find out what the hell he thought he was doing marrying my poor naive cousin. But he was nowhere to be seen. For that matter, neither were his buddies or the newly delivered keg of blood.
I spotted Missy on the dance floor with Lana and Susan. They’d sidled up to George and were flirting madly with him. They beckoned for me to join in, but I gave them the bottoms-up signal to make them think I was looking for another drink.
So, George could sense other vampires, huh? I wondered if I could do it, too, this sensing-vampires thing. I was losing my reflection earlier than normal, thanks to Thierry’s extra-caffeinated blood. My fangs had sprouted early, too. Maybe this was the same sort of deal.
Worth a try, anyhow.
I closed my eyes and tried to block out the music and voices around me. I breathed in deeply through my nose, then let it out slowly through my mouth and concentrated as hard as I could.
Then I opened my eyes, walked directly to the tiny coat checkroom just past the bar on the right-hand side of the reception hall, opened the door, and flicked on the light.
Richard and his two buddies looked up at me in surprise. They were seated cross-legged next to a row of coats with the keg in between them. Each held a shot glass.
I raised my eyebrows. Hey, my Spidey-sense worked. Who knew?
“What the hell is going on in here?” I demanded.
“Shhh.” Richard grabbed my wrist and pulled me down to the floor. Then he wheeled a rack of coats between us and the door, so we were partially hidden, and got up to flick off the light. My eyes adjusted surprisingly fast to the dimness.
“Drink?” his blond-haired buddy asked—he’d been the one George had thought was cute. He didn’t wait for a response and handed me a shot of the strangely appetizing red liquid. All things considered, it sure looked good.
“Well, maybe just one.” I wagged my index finger at him. “But then I want to know what the hell is going on here.”
The red-haired, pug-nosed friend raised his glass. “To Richard and Missy.”
We clinked glasses and drank. I wasn’t sure what blood type it was, but it tasted delicious. Then they passed a half-empty bottle of vodka around and all took a drink from it. I waved it off when it was my turn.
“That stuff has no effect on me anymore.”
Richard shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t normally. Alcohol only gives you a buzz when you use it as a chaser to the blood.”
“Oh. Good to know.” I grabbed the bottle and took a swig, then passed it back to him. “What the hell is going on in here?”
They eyed one another. “What do you mean?” Richard asked.
“You’re a vampire.”
“And so are you.” He shrugged when I gasped. “Sorry, but it’s kind of obvious. The whole raw-steak thing last night was a dead giveaway. So, yeah, I’m a vampire. What’s your point?”
What is my point? I frowned. The shot of vodka was already making things a bit blurry.
“You’re not supposed to mix with humans. It’s wrong and dangerous, and many other words I can’t think of right now. Bottom line is, you can’t be a vampire and live a human life, too. It’s just not done.”
“And who told you that?”
“A master vampire.”
The three of them looked at one another. “Oh, a master vampire,” “Blond Buddy” said. “I’m sh-sh-shaking.”
“Very scary,” “Red-Haired Buddy” said, straight-faced. He adjusted his bow tie. “I’m closing my bookstore tomorrow and moving underground with the other monsters.”
“There are monsters living underground?” I said, eyes wide.
“Have another shot.”
I did. And then another. And then I was feeling no pain whatsoever.
“Look, Sarah, it’s great of you to be so concerned for Missy.” Richard tipped the vodka bottle back and finished it off. “You’re right. It’s not easy trying to combine two very dissimilar lives. But sometimes it’s worth the effort. Missy’s worth it.”
I poked him in the shoulder. “And you’re not just trying to bite her?”
“Only when she misbehaves.” At my look he waved me off, laughing. “Just kidding. Here’s the thing, Sarah. Back in the day, me and the guys here used to be college roommates. It was too stressful in the city, dodging the hunters all the time. In a small town like Abottsville, things are quieter, easier to manage. Sure, there’s been a few”—he paused to search for the right word—“incidents from time to time. But we’ve made it work.”
“Incidents?”
Blond Buddy lit up a cigarette. “There have been a few misguided souls who imagine themselves to be ‘vampire slayers.’” He actually made air quotes. “It’s that damn television show. With the skinny blond chick. So we keep to ourselves as much as possible. If everyone found out the truth, they might come after us with pitchforks and torches.”
“Pitchforks.” I snorted with drunken laughter at the mental image. “That’s funny. In a bizarrely scary sort of way.”
“So, Sarah, how are you enjoying your new life?” Richard asked.
“Me?” I quieted down and made a sour face. “I think it’s safe to say that becoming a vampire is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. In fact, I have a strange desire to throw myself off a bridge.”
“That’s not good.” Red-Haired Buddy shook his head solemnly. “Besides, that would be a total waste, since you’re way hot. Even after the whole puking thing last night.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You know,” Richard said, “if you feel that strongly about it, maybe you should try to find the cure.”
I blinked at him. “Huh?”
“The cure.”
I got to my feet in a flash and managed to bang my head on a coatrack. I sat back down. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
Richard sighed. “The cure for vampirism. I’ve heard some scientists have been working on it in Europe for years now.”
A cure? My mind raced. Well, as fast as a mind dulled
by blood and vodka could race. Hadn’t Zelda mentioned something about a cure? I thought she’d just been kidding around.
“You’re serious? There’s a cure?”
“It’s really just a rumor I’ve heard here and there, but if you really hate being a vampire so much, you should try checking it out further. Seriously, though, Sarah, give it some time. It’s not as bad as you think.”
“You guys are great.” I leaned over and kissed Richard noisily on the cheek. “Missy’s so lucky to have you.” I grabbed him around the neck and hugged him as only a drunken woman in a low-cut eggplant-colored dress could do.
“Am I?” Missy said from behind me. I jumped and banged my head against the rack again. I rubbed my now-tender scalp and turned around. Missy was peeking through the mass of coats, watching me drool all over her shiny new husband.
“Missy! Um, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“That’s funny, because it looks like the weekly meeting of Vampires Anonymous is going on in the coat checkroom of my wedding.”
I reached up and grabbed her by her pearl necklace to pull her down to the floor next to me. She shrieked and I clamped my hand over her mouth.
“First of all,” I said, “shhh! And second of all, that was kind of funny.”
She pulled my hand off her mouth, then stood back up, brushing the front of her wedding gown off. “Geez, Sarah, I just wanted you to know I’m almost ready to throw my bouquet. Now I have to go fix my makeup. Thanks a lot.”
“Sorry. But this means you know? About”—I pointed at the guys—“you-know-what?”
“Of course I know.”
“Don’t you care?”
Missy’s bottom lip wobbled. “Of course I care. Like I told you before, we’re very different, Richard and me. I’m worried that in fifty years when I’m old and he’s exactly the same handsome man—”
“Missy, baby,” Richard said. “We’ve discussed this.”
She sniffed. “I know.”
Richard glanced at me. “I offered to sire her—make her a vampire, too—but she decided against it. I respect her decision, and I’ll love her always.”
That was so sweet. But I’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Emphasis on the “hopeless” part.
“And you, cousin of mine”—Missy turned to me— “what in the holy heck happened to you?”
I sighed. “Bad blind date. Looks like I may have eternity to recover from it.”
She nodded. “I knew it. As soon as you flashed those fangs at me. Teeth-whitening strips, my hiney. Anyhow, let’s get this bouquet-throwing thing done. I’m ready to start my honeymoon.” She leaned over and kissed Richard. “Eww. Make sure you brush your teeth. You have blood breath.”
“Yes, dear.”
One by one we exited the coat checkroom, while trying to look as casual as possible. Back in the reception hall the reverend stared at me from the corner of the dance floor. He had a black tote bag over one shoulder. I gave him a big grin, then slapped my hands over my mouth to cover it. Must remember not to flash the new fangs around. Talk about an awkward moment. I straightened out my skirt by pulling it down over my knees and nearly had a nipple make an appearance. The reverend blinked and looked away.
I felt nicely drunk from the blood/vodka combo. It felt pretty good. Come to think of it—in my current state at least—this might be the perfect time to “part ways” with my parents. I figured I had a few minutes before Missy got back from the bathroom. Why waste them?
Part ways. Get it over with. Break the news to them that they wouldn’t be seeing me for a while. Hopefully, they wouldn’t take it too hard.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around.
“Sarah,” my father said. “Your mother and I are leaving.”
“You’re leaving me?” I yelped. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Too much free white wine. Your mother’s drunk.”
“Am not!” my mother slurred from ten feet away at the table, her coat hanging off her shoulders. Then she let out a loud hiccup.
“But, Dad, I—”
He chucked me under the chin. “See you later.”
“But I—”
Without another word he and my mother… parted ways with me. At least for the remainder of the evening, anyhow. Feeling stunned, I watched them leave the banquet hall. I suddenly felt like an orphan. Like a Little Vampire Orphan Annie.
“Okay,” the deejay announced after Buster Poindexter’s “Hot Hot Hot” ended. “May I have all single ladies on the dance floor now for the bouquet toss?”
I trudged over to the dance floor and glanced at Missy.
“Whoever catches this will be the next to get married,” Missy said. “Isn’t this fun?”
I elbowed into position. Missy turned around and, after psyching out the gathered crowd of ten single women with two fake throws, launched the bouquet into the air. It sailed way over our heads and directly into the hands of Reverend Micholby, who was standing directly behind us. He stared at the bouquet for a moment, then dropped it onto the ground in front of him.
Before I could make a comment about him making a lovely future bride, he opened up the black duffel bag he’d been carrying around all evening and pulled out a wooden stake and a large silver cross.
“May I have your attention, please,” he said calmly. “It has come to my attention that there are several vampires here. Could you kindly accompany me outside so I can kill you? Now, please?”
I gasped and ducked down in the middle of all the single women. Unfortunately, everyone else immediately cleared the dance floor, and I was left sitting on my butt looking up at the reverend-by-day, vampire-hunter-by-night. Nervous breakdown, my ass.
He stared down at me with cold, determined eyes.
“Very well, we’ll start with you.”
Missy approached him. “Reverend, what’s going on here?”
“Monsters,” he said matter-of-factly, as if he were discussing a slightly distasteful item at the buffet table. “That’s what’s going on. I had a feeling about this one, and when she bared her fangs, I knew I had to do something. I have a sacred duty to keep my town safe from Satan’s spawn.”
“Satan’s spawn?”
Missy laughed but eyed me nervously. “I think you’ve been watching too many movies. There are no such things as vampires, of course.”
The reverend didn’t shift his gaze from me and instead shook the cross in my direction. It was a nice cross. Looked like real silver. Didn’t bother me at all. It was the sharp stake in his other hand that troubled me.
“She is one,” he hissed, pointing at me with the cross. “An evil bloodsucker. There are more, too. I’m sure of it. I will find them and destroy them all.”
The hall was completely silent. Nobody was taking the initiative to rush forward to save me. Maybe they all figured that this was an odd little piece of dinner theater.
“I’m not a vampire.” My voice was squeaky and strained.
“Silent, evil vixen. Dressed to seduce and kill.”
I scrambled to my feet. “This outfit was not my idea, buddy.”
“What’s going on?” somebody said from the crowd of onlookers.
“He’s crazy,” I shouted, loud enough for everyone still in the reception hall to hear. “And drunk. Crazy, drunk, and I think he might be high, too.”
The reverend took a step toward me, but Missy was still in his way. He pushed her and she cried out as she fell to the floor. Richard ran to her side and pulled her away from danger. The reverend got closer to me, and I kept backing up until I could feel the deejay’s table behind me.
All of a sudden, George was at my side. He was supposed to protect me, after all. Damn well took him long enough.
“Sorry.” He put an arm around my shoulder. “Nature called.”
The reverend took a moment to reassess the situation while he stared daggers at us. Then he raised the stake high above his head and arched it down directly at George.
Georg
e let out a high-pitched squeal of pain as he looked down at the stake, which now protruded from his chest. He fell to his knees and smacked his face on the dance floor before rolling onto his back. I was in shock, frozen in place. The reverend then moved close enough to press the silver cross hard against the side of my face.
“Hey!” I yelled. “Stop it.”
“Burns, doesn’t it, demon?”
“Not really.” I gritted my teeth. “But this probably will.”
I brought my knee up sharply against his groin. He screamed, doubled over, and I heard the cross clatter to the dance floor. I rubbed my bruised cheek and collapsed to my knees next to George. I foggily registered that everyone at the reception was collectively screaming and running for the exits.
“George!” I pushed his long hair off his forehead. “George, sweetie. Are you okay? Talk to me!”
George stared glassy-eyed at the ceiling. “Ow.”
I forced myself to look at the stake. It was surrounded by a dark red, wet patch on his cream-colored shirt. I studied it for a moment. “The stake isn’t in your heart; it’s mostly in your shoulder. You have to be staked in your heart to die, right? You must have moved just in time.” I let out the breath I hadn’t even known I’d been holding. “That’s good, right?”
George turned his head and blinked up at me. “Ow.”
I shook my head. “Your shirt is definitely ruined, though. Was it real silk?”
He shifted his gaze to behind me, then made an attempt to get up but failed. “Ow,” he said again and pointed weakly.
I turned. The reverend was rising to his feet with an expression of unadulterated hatred on his face. Crushed groin or no crushed groin, he was going to tear me apart with his bare hands. And by what I could see of the reception hall, there was nobody left to help me.
With one hand against George, I held the other up to try to stop him as he staggered toward me. Good luck there.
I heard a loud crash and the reverend stopped in his tracks. His eyes glazed over and he fell to his knees, then face forward down to the floor, his head ending up mere inches away from me. I looked up with wide eyes.