My Mate is a Greek God

13: Spookiest night

A/N:  This is probably the most challenging chapter i've written thus far whew 😩

Next chapter, we'll be back following Lydia and the gang 🎉

Make sure to vote if you enjoy this chapter! Also, I love reading comments! ❤️

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Brenda gawked as the guy whistled a happy tune to himself and slipped past her, meeting a buddy of his dressed up as a clown and grabbing a beer before turning a corner.

A clown— fitting, Brenda mused.

"How much longer until you have a definitive answer," a gruff voice said, cautious and assertively.

Brenda sucked in a breath. The voice was as cold as ice, and it was near, coming from a room a little further down the hall. That voice, it sounded older. Have I heard that voice before? Brenda wondered. She trotted lightly on her stilettos.

"I dunno, Al. Things like this take time, ya know. Why's it kinda feel like you're rushing me?"

A different voice— it was Chad. That's him! I found him! Brenda celebrated. But... who is the other voice. Who is Al? And why are they both speaking in hushed voices?

Brenda couldn't resist the urge to eavesdrop. A bit closer, and maybe she could even get a peek through the ajar extravagant door.

Perhaps Lydia was starting to rub off on her.

"You must understand the importance of this mission. The clan's future rides on this. Your future, my future," the mysterious Al said.

Chad yawned. "Uh-huh. Totally, man."

Brenda quickly flattened her back up against the wall. Her hand flew over her pattering heart. A mission? A fun mission? Gasp. A murderous one? With shaky ankles and a couple of heedful side steps, she peeped through the creak of the door.

Brenda could only observe the back of Al— a broad, stocky figure with pointed shoulders. His long crimson tail coat swirled with white embroidery all over. A shiny sphere topped his cane and melded perfectly into his palm.

He looked as if he could be a king. Yet, a simple black flat cap graced his head instead of a crown, and the cane in his grasp was no scepter.

An unnerving energy resonated from this man that Brenda couldn't shake. It all too quickly crept into her veins and drained the color from her face.

A grumble from said man brought Brenda back to her senses. He took a couple more steps towards Chad, rolling his hand atop his cane. "Maybe I should've been keeping a closer eye on you. Maybe you're becoming soft."

"No, I am hard, man," Chad said, patting his abdomen, "I'm super hard. Hard as rocks, dude." He then knocked the side of his temple as if to check it its hollow. "See, I have a solid bod and an indestructible mind."

Al gripped Chad's shoulder, "Listen, boy," then yanked him forward, "As a McDracula, you're destined for greatness. You'll be a King someday. If a formidable threat truly does exist within this school we cannot allow it to grow any further."

Chad winced when Al let go then stomped his cane. "It's paramount you continue to watch your target. To analyze his every word, every move, every action."

A strong gust of wind caused a window behind them to fly open, stirring the end of Al's tailcoat. "And, if after your observation it's determined he isn't the one they speak of only in whispers... then we eliminate this cesspool of humans and continue our search elsewhere."

Chad remained still— expression vacant, unwavering from Al's gaze. Brenda focused on Chad's Adam's apple, as it weighed up and down his throat.

"Let nothing hinder you, Chad. Mind your nature," Al said, and a storm of bats encircled him as he opened a window and leapt through it, vanishing into the night. Chad coughed as sparkles flew into his nose.

Brenda's knees clattered together as she sank lower and lower to the floor. Her stomach twisted into knots. She turned away from the door and fixed her orbs at the chandelier above. The crystals that hung from it lightly rattled from the party's reverberating bass.

Brenda's mind raced. Chad is a vampire— a real one, and according to what that man said, an important one. That man— Al. That intimidating, unpredictable man. The mission they spoke of. And a target. A mysterious, possibly dangerous rare beast within this very school— perhaps even one of her classmates. The casual mention of human bloodshed.

The sound of approaching footsteps startled Brenda, so she jumped back to her feet, hastily stuffing Chad's handkerchief into her bra.

Chad pushed open the door and hung onto its frame whilst his other hand clutched his chest. Blond locks gently swayed back and forth as his body shook. Mangled noises escaped from his throat, and he clawed at it, as if trying to loosen a noose. A lone tear fell down his cheek. After wiping it away, he lifted his gaze and admired the chandelier above him. His orbs shut tight, so tightly that all he could see when he opened them were fuzzy stars.

Deep breath.

Inhale. exhale.

He straightened himself up and dusted himself off, albeit, his hands still trembled at his sides. He made way down the hall— to the direction of the party— never even noticing Brenda still hidden behind the opened door.

~~~

Brenda soon followed when she deemed the coast was clear. She bit the tips of her long ruby red acrylics. Am I afraid of him now? Should I be afraid of him? Where did he go?

Brenda looked from left to right. "Dear god," she accidentally said out loud, "Is that Lydia?"

Lydia, out of her typical wacky, bold, and interesting fashion was dressed unrecognizably as classic Cinderella. In an alcohol-induced slumber, she was laid out on a luxurious white sofa, completely unaware as people crowded around her. Transfixed, they wildly snapped pictures of her with their phones.

Brenda looked over one of the photographer's shoulders, and noticed them posting to Instagram with the caption: '#wastederella'

How dare they, Brenda thought. What do I do? If I try to wake her up she might freak out— she wouldn't recognize me, but if I just leave her here, these people won't leave her alone.

Before she could make a decision, a butler with a tray of shots approached her, and in her overwhelming state of stress, Brenda hastily downed two of them.

"Wait!" Chad said, stopping the butler before he could turn away. Chad grabbed a shot with each hand and threw them back one at a time, stifling a hiss as the liquid traveled down his throat.

No, I'm not afraid of him, Brenda decided. He's awkward, yet charming. He's funny and stands tall, even when faced against that Al guy. Doesn't that make him brave? Brenda pulled out the handkerchief from her bra and held it against her heart. And too, he's kind.

I don't care what that old man said.

And I don't care what anyone says about vampires, because the one right beside me has a beating heart.

And... is supposedly a prince?

And also... very attractive.

Brenda dropped the handkerchief. She grabbed ahold of Chad's hand, and gently took in her bottom lip with her teeth. Her orbs bore into his glassy, steely ones. Startled by her action, his cheeks flushed an embarrassingly deep shade of red.

With newfound liquid courage, Brenda's gaze dropped to Chad's parted lips and decided to meet them with her own. Tears and saliva mingled with one another as their sloppy drunken kiss deepened. Their hands eagerly roamed up and down each other's bodies.

So then, the two virgins lightweights with two shots down their systems stumbled their way into an empty room. They slammed a door shut, fell onto a vacant bed together, and stayed intertwined, til well after the party was over.

And that, folks, is how Todd was made.

On one, particularly spooky, halloween night.

~~~
A/N: Question time: Tell me your theories, who is Al?