The Deal Taker (Book III)

Chapter Five - Break a Leg

Chapter Five

Break a Leg

I'M NOT NORMALLY ONE TO BE nervous about anything. I do what I want or have to do without thinking about it, usually. It has created some major issues in my life, but at least I am usually able to handle anything thrown my way. However, I don't know why or how, I was actually beginning to think about all of this. Maybe it was trying on wedding dresses or kissing Matthew the way I had a few hours ago? Whatever it was, it was creating a knot in my stomach.

I didn't want to go down and have 'dinner' with several of Matthew's close friends. I was done for the night. All I wanted to do was just crawl into bed and attempt to sleep my life away. But I couldn't, and that killed me. I've always been used to being in temporary situations; if I didn't like it, I left. That wasn't even an option for me anymore.

Matthew stepped out of the bathroom with his hands fixing his black tie, looking like he really should be on the cover of Forbes magazine right now. Judging by his crisp and clean appearance, you would never expect him to have tattoos and fangs hidden at this moment. I had to remind myself nearly every guest coming tonight will be wearing the same classy disguise as Matthew; demons in Prada.

"Ready?" he asked, sticking his arm out for me to grab onto.

"Any chance of us just not going?"

His lips twitched and his hand covered over mine. "I truly wish there was. I hate just about all of them. But I have an image to maintain, and I'll be there if you need me."

Why did that bring me comfort? Oh, right, I'm going to a dinner party with a bunch of bloodsuckers who have probably killed dozens of people.

"Nicholas, Liam, and Beth will be there in case you need any help."

I nodded, though I really didn't want Liam or Beth by my side; I might stake Beth or Liam within minutes. Similar to Matthew, I, too, had a show to put on. We had our lines, our smiles, and the years of experience with lying. This was what I have been preparing for over the course of two weeks. This was my Oscar-winning performance coming up.

When I was originally told about this so-called "Rehearsal Dinner" I was under the impression it was for just a few of Matthew's close friends; a few friends being maybe ten, at most.

I was about a hundred off.

By the time we entered the dining hall consisting of one large cherry wood table with well over a hundred seats, people were standing around the room chatting to one another with glasses full of either wine or blood. At first I swayed a bit when I saw one woman lift her crystal wine glass to her lips, sipping what was obviously blood judging by the thickness and crimson glow. When Matthew drinks, he doesn't do it around me. Seeing over a dozen openly gulping liquid that currently was pumping through my body just about caused some vomit to crawl up the back of my throat.

"Matthew!" several voices cried when we stepped into the elegantly decorated room.

It was like a zombie apocalypse. People began surrounding us with a look of hunger in their eyes, only this hunger wasn't a physical one; everyone wanted to know who the bride-to-be was.

I swear, I haven't seen such a look of disappointment since my mom realized I stopped storing my cash under my mattress. Everyone eyed me from the floor up, taking in every piece of me like some sort of piece of meat they were about to buy. There was much murmuring coming from the women. I couldn't hear most of the whispers because, hello, human, but something about Matthew's jaw tightening told me they weren't talking about my gorgeous flowing locks.