It's been three months since Delilah "Del" Cross stumbled her way into the mysterious town of Whisper Valley. During that time she's grown to appreciate her new life amongst ghosts, vampires, mages, zombies, and werewolves. Yet, there's still so m...
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"Do you have really bad aim or is that drink pure alcohol?"
I ignored Irene and pulled my arm back for another throw. I then sent my last bean bag soaring over the teetering tower of milk bottles — which had been painted red to look like bottles of blood instead.
"Sorry, Del," said a zombie who was running TUCK's booth at the fair. "Better luck next time."
"It's all good," I said with a shrug before picking up my drink to take another sip. "Not like I would have made use out of the prize anyway. What good is a coupon to a grocery store that doesn't have any food I can eat?"
"It would have made a great gift," he pointed out.
"Fair enough," I replied before turning to face Irene and Armand. "Where to next?"
"You never answered my question," said Irene, her arms crossed and her brow raised with concern. "I think we should get you more to eat. Funnel cake and vodka is going to have you doubled over at the masquerade."
"I don't drink vodka," I pointed out. "I believe this has rum in it." I peered down into my drink as if that would help me recall what I had ordered back at the Nightshade Lounge's stall, which had been conveniently located beside another stall brimming with traditional fair food fare. I had, admittedly, only gotten it because it came in a special moon-shaped, see-through cup, which was primarily filled with blood orange juice to give it the right tint. The fact that it had additional liquid in it was of little note to me. So long as it wasn't vodka, I was fine with whatever alcoholic addition they put in there.
"Whatever," said Irene with a shrug, "I just don't want you throwing up on that dress. I plan to make you a masterpiece tonight."
"Well, I don't plan on getting another drink, though I do plan on getting more food. I'm thinking a corn dog."
"I was thinking something with a bit more substance to it like popcorn."
"I could go for a corn dog," mumbled Armand as his eyes perused a nearby stall with enchanted talismans and artisanal potions.
"Well, me and Armand can get a corn dog, and you can get popcorn."
"I wasn't saying that I wanted popcorn. I'm just trying to pace you."
"Look," I said with a rather confident tone, despite my lack of experience in the realm of alcohol tolerance, "I feel fine and this really is my last drink. Trust me when I say I'm not going anywhere near alcohol at Antonov's. That's just asking for trouble."
"Fine," said Irene with a shake of her head, "but will you eat real food at the masquerade, at least?"
"Absolutely. In fact, I'm looking forward to it!" I then raised my glass towards the golden red orb that winked at me from behind the dark tree branches that canopied the park. After offering my cheers to the festival's guest of honor, I took a sip and began my journey to a nearby food vendor. "There will be blood flowing," I continued as Irene and Armand followed behind me, "and the freshest of raw meat will be served to the vampire guests, but there's going to be plenty of honored feeders there, plus Scarlett who is both human and pregnant. As such, Antonov told me he will be having a full spread of the finest cuisine for human palettes."
