Bitten & Smitten ib-1

by Мишель Роуэн

  “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.
<
br />   “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. George 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. Thierry stood behind him, holding the remnants of a broken wine bottle.

  George looked up at him. “Ow.”

  I couldn’t speak, so I just stared at him with probably a very stupid look on my face.

  “So”—Thierry turned around to glance at the empty reception hall—“was it a nice wedding?”

  I swallowed. “Lovely. You should have been here.”

  He crouched down and raised a dark eyebrow at George. “Brace yourself. This will hurt.”

  George was about to protest, but Thierry gripped the wooden stake and pulled it straight out of his chest before he could. It made a sickening smuck sound. George shouted out some swear words I’d actually never heard before. I added them to my vocabulary as I watched the blood gush from his wound. I knew I should be completely grossed out, but my stomach actually growled with hunger at the sight of it. I decided to keep this disturbing revelation to myself.

  “Will he be okay?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Thierry tossed the bloody stake off to the side. “In time.”

  I glanced over at the reverend. “Is he… is he…”

  “Dead?” Thierry finished for me. “No.”

  He pulled a cell phone from his inside jacket pocket and called the police, who showed up ten minutes later. After speaking privately with Thierry, they handcuffed the slightly conscious reverend and took him away as the wedding guests milled about.

  “What did you say to them?” I asked.

  “You needn’t concern yourself with that.” He had George on his feet and was helping him to the door.

  “Thierry,” I called to him. He turned around, letting George lean against him for support.

  “Why are you here, anyhow? George said that you sent him because you were too busy.

  Not that I expected anyone to come after… well, after our little discussion the other day.”

  He took a deep inhale of breath. “Are you telling me I shouldn’t have come?”

  “No, I’m not saying that. In fact, talk about perfect timing. It’s just… George told me you were busy because there was another hunter attack. Did they”—I swallowed hard—“kill anybody?”

  “Happily, no one was injured in their last attack; however, another of my clubs has been damaged enough for me to shut it down.” He met my gaze, then looked away. “I simply felt that you needed me.”

  I waited for further explanation, but there was nothing. “Are you heading back to Toronto
now?”

  He shook his head. “George is not well enough for a long car ride. We will pick you up tomorrow morning at eight. Please be ready. Unless, perhaps, you were planning on staying here longer?”

  “No, no. I’ll be ready.”

  He continued toward the door.

  “Thierry,” I called again. He stopped walking, but he didn’t turn around. “Um… thanks.”

  He left without another sound, except for a last gasp of pain from George as he hit the door frame. Abottsville is well known for its narrow doors.

  I went outside to watch Missy and Richard leave for their honeymoon. A little anticlimactic now, but it would do. I heard the murmurings of the crowd as they talked about Reverend Micholby finally going off the deep end—an event that apparently had been predicted for years. Why didn’t that make me feel any better?

  Missy gave me a quick hug.

  “You’re going to be okay,” she told me.

  I nodded, but I knew she was lying to make me feel better. “Yeah, sure I will be. Us bloodsucking monsters always land on our feet.”

  She opened her mouth to say something else, but I stopped her.

  “You’ll be okay, too.” I smiled at her. “Richard’s a keeper.”

  She nodded, and Richard winked at me from inside the limo. Missy got in and the door closed behind them. Nobody had any rice or confetti, so we all just waved good-bye.

  Attached to the back of the limo was a sign in the shape of a red heart with two suspicious-looking puncture marks. It read TILL DEATH DO US PART HAS A WHOLE NEW MEANING. RICHARD + MISSY FOREVER.

  Funny. Then why wasn’t I laughing? I tried to swallow the big lump in my throat as I watched them drive away.

  Chapter 14

  Mom insisted that I stay in my old room at the house. This was my second night tucked snug as a bug in a rug in my single bed with the frilly pink canopy. I stared at my old Madonna poster for a very long time. I used to want to be Madonna. Instead, I just became a “Material Girl.” I guess it all worked out. There were lots of signs of the “me who used to be” scattered around the room. My old diaries tucked in their secret hiding places, my old teddy bear without any eyes because I gnawed them off in my sleep. I guess I had an oral fixation even as a kid. In my closet were all the clothes I’d bought with every last cent of my McDonald’s pay. Not much different from now. Spending all my money on frivolous things. Pretty things to make me feel better. To make me feel special. What a joke.