CHAPTER SIXTEEN
VIGGO RASSMUSSEN
Destiny is simply for those who have run out of luck.
Vampire Falls. Season four, episode nineteen – “Make Me”
Have you ever been in a hotel conference room with approximately eight hundred people holding their breath? It’s a surreal experience, especially compared to the usual cacophony of individual conversations and convention soundtrack.
I look at my hand. My fingertips have turned white where Roxy has squeezed the life out of them, but the pain is good because the rest of my body feels numb. I just need to sit perfectly still on my banquet chair that smells faintly of J?germeister, remain calm, and all will be well. I know it.
Felix rolls up his sleeve like he’s about to deliver a newborn calf, and leans over the cauldron.
Some audience members can’t contain themselves and there are a couple of actual yelps as Felix pulls out the first piece of parchment.
He unfolds it, shows it to Dimitri, who shrugs (I know Felix needed someone independent but show a little razzmatazz, Dimitri) and goes back to his mic stand.
“The first name is . . .”
He looks up at us, his eyes scanning the chairs. Even from this distance, I can see a sparkle in his eye. He’s already happy for whoever it is.
“. . . Rashawn Thompson!”
We don’t need to look round to find Rashawn, because everyone turns towards the eardrum bursting scream at the back of the hall. A guy with blond, shoulder-length dreadlocks jumps up and down, as people around him smile and clap (almost genuinely) for him.
“Come up and join us, Rashawn! Congratulations!”
He lets one last scream fill the air, then stops jumping around. He beams at everyone, smoothing down his Hemoglovin’ T-shirt as he makes his way to the stage. A steward directs him to one of three chairs lined up at the side. The winners’ chairs.
The next one is mine. I just know it.
Felix lifts his hand again, miming the sleeve-rolling action, and the audience goes quiet.
I close my eyes.
“And the next name from the cauldron . . .”
I think Roxy might have fractured my pinkie, but it’s fine.
“is . . .”
I pledge my allegiance to you, Immortal Fortiana, and that of my future born, and theirs, and theirs, in perpetuity.
“Dimitri, can you just check that . . . thanks . . .”
I await your generous gifts. I am not an impatient person, Immortal Fortiana, but if Felix could hurry up and spit itout, that would be great.
“. . . the name is . . .”
Manifestation secretes from my every orifice, Immortal Fortiana.
“Eliza Gellar!”