CHAPTER FOURTEEN
VIGGO RASSMUSSEN
Stop, Juliana! You’re bleeding!
JULIANA THE DEMON HUNTRESS
Not enough.
Vampire Falls. Season six, episode nine – “All Together Now”
“Why are you glowering at me?” asks Roxy, chomping ona sausage.
She doesn’t look up from her obscenely large breakfast. Two whole plates; one full English, one continental.
“I’m not glowering.”
I am glowering. Maybe. Honestly? I’m not sure what glowering actually means.
We were some of the last ones to get pushed out of the hall.
Someone dressed as a Suckling Crone had lost her shoe, so we were crawling around under the tables looking for it, but the bar staff got very uppity and insisted it was time to leave.
The joke was on them though because Roxy and I carried on drinking in our room.
Then I woke up clutching a dry pot noodle and had a sweet and sour taste in my mouth, so actually the joke is on me.
Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I’m feeling a little jaded, as is the norm the morning after first convention night. I can’t eat anything for fear of it coming right back up, but Roxy is chowing down, fresh as a daisy. It’s annoying. Or glowering. I don’t know. Words are hard.
I look around the restaurant at our fellow attendees stocking up on calories for the day, some in Vampire Falls hoodies, some in full cosplay mode, ready for today’s photo ops.
I spot Venefica and Cantatrix quietly eating breakfast together.
This would not happen in real life due to their mutual status as mortal enemies being from warring enchantress factions, but I’m pretty sure these guys are in a relationship.
Cute. Despite my head pounding, the familiarity of having these people around makes me feel warm.
“If you say so, babe,” says Roxy, smiling at something on her phone. She looks up at me and types at the same time. “Have you found your Bristol linguistics group on Insta yet? I’ve worked out who’s cool and who to avoid on my course already.”
“No,” I say, worry double-churning my already churned stomach. “So, we’re expected to make friends with new people before we’ve even arrived? How am I supposed to do that? I don’t come across well electronically.”
“I just used the hashtags I sent you and found a few people,” she says, not disagreeing with my statement about not coming across well. Charming. “No pressure or . . .”
A smatter of applause bubbles through the restaurant and Roxy stops. We crane our necks to see who’s come in. It’s regular for a change in atmosphere when a guest appears among the mortals, but an actor having breakfast with the civilians is unprecedented.
Then I see who it is.
Charlie Chamberlain follows the waiting staff to a table, his arm around Sadie.
His right eyebrow is slightly raised, which means he didn’t sleep well.
I don’t know what’s keeping him awake at night; it’s not like his favourite weekend’s been ruined.
He’s wearing a Vampire Falls T-shirt that I gave him for his birthday three years ago.
Sacrilege. Sadie is wearing a matching one, so they actually look adorable, which is annoying.
They sit down at a table set for three people: him, Sadie and . . .
“Oh yeah, Vivian’s here,” Roxy cheerfully reminds me. “She looks great this morning, right?”
“Average,” I say, frowning as the server pulls a chair out for her. “Why didn’t he do that for me? He practically pushed me into my seat. Outrageous.”
“Probably thought you were going to faint. You look like dog shit.”
“I love you too.” Roxy blows me a kiss and I look back at Charlie Chamberlain and co. “Why do you think she’s here? She’s not a Faller.”
“Maybe Charlie needed help with Sadie.”
“She’s not exactly Mary Poppins,” I say, watching her apply lipstick using the reflection in her knife.
“She would make a hot Mary Poppins,” says Roxy, biting her lip.
“Ew,” I say, taking a mouse-sized bite from my croissant. “Gag.”
A couple of people with vampire fangs go up to Charlie Chamberlain’s table and clap him on the back. He stands up to talk to them, like he’s just won a golf tournament or something.
“When is everyone going to drop the hero worship. So, Charlie Chamberlain knows the Heimlich manoeuvre. OK: big deal.”
“DVS nearly choked to death, babe.”
“We can’t say for sure he would have choked to death. Don’t you get all dramatic as well.”
“Sorry, you’re right. Charlie should have left him, just to see what happened,” she says, sipping her coffee.
“Well, everyone’s making such a big deal,” I say, watching Charlie Chamberlain sit down then stand back up when an old couple go over to him. “They’re obsessed.”
“Yeah,” says Roxy. “Obsessed.”
I look back at her. She has her elbows on the table, staring at me with her hands clasped together, like a therapist. Or a supervillain.
“What?”
“Nothing, my love,” she says. “Nothing at all.”
I pull the Jawfain onesie hood over my head then pick at my deflated croissant. I reach for my glass, which is empty (why are hotel breakfast glasses like thimbles? Don’t they know people are dehydrated?), so start to get up when I realise Roxy is still staring at me.
“What now?”
“Nothing,” she says, then leans forward and flicks one of the ears on my hood. “You look cute in this.”
“I’m always cute,” I say, fluttering my eyelashes.
Roxy lifts an eyebrow.
“Wearing it down to breakfast every morning?”
I nod. “As long as I don’t barf on it.”
“Hmm.”
“Uh. What does hmm mean? I’m extremely, extremely fragile, Roxy. Please, just decide what you want to say, say it, then stop saying it.”
She sits back in her chair and folds her arms.
“Just think it’s interesting that you chose to wear that vile T-shirt yesterday, when you could easily have worn this, your favourite onesie,” she says, gesturing at my attire like it’s an exhibit in a court case. I blink at her. “Why was that,do you think?”
I shrug. “Forgot I had it, I guess.”
“Hmm.” I could fake a post-drinking dash to the loo, but then she’d know I’m admitting to something.
Which I’m not. Also, I wish Iris was here to divert this sudden attention to my motivations.
“Some people might think you’d rather wear a misogynistic T-shirt just to make the friend who caused the latte drenching incident feel worse, rather than changing into something you felt perfectly comfortable in, thus making her feel less bad.
Some people might think you get so blinded by a grudge you can’t see the bigger picture. ”
“Thus?”
“Yes, thus. Is that all you have to say?”
“No.”
“No what, babe?”
“No, your honour,” I say, squirming.
Roxy watches me lick my finger and pick up croissant crumbs as I look all around the restaurant; everywhere but at her. Her napkin suddenly lands in my lap, and I look up.
“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met,” she says, smiling and shaking her head.
I spot Fake McKinley walking round the waffle station, peering at the toppings on offer before he heads through the restaurant.
“Hey.” I wave him over, before Roxy can cross-examine me any further.
He smiles and wanders over, weaving between the tables in his werewolf costume, minus head.
“Hey, guys,” he says, stopping at our table, his face bright. “How was your breakfast?”
“She couldn’t eat,” says Roxy.
Fake McKinley looks at my pathetic leftovers and raises his eyebrows.
“Too much fun last night?” he says. I glare at Roxy. “You should try and eat; it’ll make you feel better.”
“You obviously did,” I say, looking up at him. “Is that pain au chocolate or pecan twist crumbs in your beard?”
He smiles and rubs his chin but misses the crumbs.
“Both. What can I say? I’m a Taurus; we love our food,” he says. “Did I get them?”
“Nowhere near,” I say, pointing. “It’s there.”
“That it?” he says, rubbing the opposite spot.
“I can’t cope,” I say, pulling myself up. “Let me.”
“Oh . . . OK . . .”
He frowns but holds still so I can pick out the crumbs.
I brush down the front of his costume as well, and lock eyes with Charlie Chamberlain just over the horizon of Fake McKinley’s broad shoulder.
Charlie Chamberlain shifts in his seat quickly and his knife clatters to the floor.
Ugh. Will I have to look at him every morning?
I clear my throat and sit back down.
“When is it then?” I say.
“When’s what?” says Fake McKinley glancing over his shoulder.
“Your birthday. You said you’re a Taurus, so it must be . . .”His eyes widen and I glance at Roxy who’s smiling. “Oh my god. Is today your birthday?”
“Yes, but . . .”
“How old are you?” I ask.
He takes a deep breath and shrugs.
“Twenty-one.”
“Happy birthday, man,” says Roxy.
“Thank you.” He nods and starts backing away. “I’ll see you around?”
“Definitely,” I say, watching him go.
I turn to Roxy who’s already looking at me.
“You’re going to make him a birthday crown, aren’t you?”
“Obviously,” I say, watching him wander out of the restaurant. “It’s his birthday and he’s here all alone, Roxy.”
“And also, very hot.”
“Yes, but the breakfast in his beard has totally ruined it for me,” I say, waving her comment away.
We both look round as Dorothy comes scurrying between the tables.
“Hey, Dorothy. How’s your hip?”
“No time for small talk about my damn hip, Curly.”
Wow.
“You OK?” asks Roxy.
“Haven’t you seen the notices?” We look back at her blankly and shake our heads. Dorothy tssks and points over her shoulder. “Move your bony arses and get in that hall.”
Roxy and I frown at each other, and Dorothy rolls her eyes.
“They’re about to draw the players from the cauldron,” she says. “The competitors in the Fall Games.”