Bitter Revenge

Chapter 3

Warning!

I growled before relaxing and standing up, brushing some grass off my hoodie. "You witches really have an infatuation with me. I can't seem to shrug any of you off." One witch rushed forward at the end of my speech with a raised fist, and I just dodged. My vampire senses sharper than their human-like senses. They swung wildly, and I just kept dodging. Keeping up some small talk all the while. "They really just keep coming. You know, I thought y'all were like... trained for this. But it seems, you are not qualified to handle me." My voice dipped into a menacing growl towards the end as I finally struck a punch at this one witch. Immediate contact. The hood fell back to reveal a boy, who looked barely over 50. I can't kill him. He smells like chocolate and daisies, he can't possibly be bad. The other two witches finally rushed forward, one igniting a line of fire between me and the boy, while the other froze my feet to the ground. I struggled against the ice as witch #3, that's what I'll call this fiery one, rushed forward.

I saw no way to dodge this flaming fist coming my way, so I grabbed their burning hand, shoved it down towards the ice on my feet, and drove my elbow to the back of their head. Out like a light. The fire did little to melt the ice, but enough for me to kick my feet out the ice, thank Goddess for super strength. I couldn't kill any of them. They're all good, they smell amazing! So instead, using my unnatural speed, I ran off. I scowled at myself, knowing that these witches had left me with a burned hand, bleeding ankles, and bruised knuckles. Wonderful. I opened the front door to the club, not worried about being seen in the slightest. After all, the sun is coming up. Come on Sun Goddess, do a girl a favor. I sighed and walked into my own private room in the club. I live here probably because I don't see the point in having a whole house for myself. I laid down and knocked out immediately.

***

"Fiona! Please pay attention! You're too old to be in la la land!" Mother scolded me for drifting off in "class time." This is the dumbest thing ever. I don't learn anything interesting! Only how to fold napkins, cook, treat my husband, and basically how to do whatever men decide is best for me. Like she's any good at that. They're constantly at each other's throats. I watched her prepare lasagna for who knows how long until Violet finally woke up from her nap. "Sleep well sis?" I whispered as she entered the kitchen, rubbing her eye sleepily. Her dirty blonde, mid-back length hair flowed messily down her shoulders. "Yes. Is Mother still teaching you to cook?" She grinned, knowing full well I was miserable watching this crap. "Yep, she's been at it all day." I groaned a little louder than I should've, causing Mother to look back at us. Her face contorted in anger, blurring what came next.

I hissed as I tended to my own wounds while my sister sat on the toilet silently. She was perfectly fine, thank God- No, thanks to me. I will never allow that woman to hurt her, even if it costs me my life. "You only made her angrier by protecting me." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her tear stained cheeks filled with tears again. "Don't worry Viv, I'll be fine. And I heal much faster than you, I can handle her. Besides, I'd never let anything happen to you." I smiled at her, showing her I was fine. Her adorable cheeks lifted in a grin back. You're only 7, so as the 9-year-old and/or older of the two, I promise I'll protect you Viv.

***

My eyes slowly opened, heavy and rough on my eyes. It felt like sandpaper. I sat up, looking at my phone to see that it was 3 in the afternoon. My heart dropped and I jumped out of bed to look for Cris. I found her casually talking to the chef, Scarlet! Right? "Why the hell didn't you wake me up?! Have you seen what time it is?!" I seethed, practically baring my fangs at her. But Scarlet was here. Cris just smiled at my reaction and calmly said, "I tried. But when I shook you, you nearly clawed my eyeball out. So I let you have a bit of a day off." She continued sipping a chocolate shake it seemed like. "Oh well how generous of you." I spat sarcastically, "But unlike you, who just spends her time flirting and sleeping with her clients or waving for cameras, I have a mountain of paperwork to do!" I scowled deeply, feeling my frustration peak. Until she rubbed the space between my eyebrows with her soft hands. "Quit scowling so much. You'll get old lady wrinkles. And your work is your responsibility. Don't blame me for your irresponsibility." I couldn't even say anything back, because she was right. I was to blame.

I spent a good 5 hours typing away, even getting ahead of schedule. I finally snapped out of it when an email popped up on my screen. The name of the person it came from rocked me so much that I called Cris on the spot. "You will NOT believe who just sent me an email!" I screamed into the phone, hearing the echo as Cris was approaching my office. She opened the door and hung up the call, standing there with her hands on her curvy waist. "Well don't keep me in suspense. Lay it on me." She walked forward and comfortably took a seat on my leg. "Bunny's Burrow! The number one news channel in all of the U.S. emailed us for an interview!" I yelled a little less loudly but equally as excited. I comfortably put my hand on her waist as we smiled widely at each other, until she hopped off to celebrate with a dance. I just laughed, feeling so much happiness for the first time in too long.

"I've never seen you smile like that before, you should do it more often. It makes you look so much more adorable." Cris smiled, clearly loving to see me so excited. Her hazel-red eyes danced with such satisfaction and adoration. That's my best friend for you. "Yeah well, it's not every day a multi-billionaire company emails you." I lifted my glasses up onto the top of my head, pulling my dark hair back with it. "True. But I have never seen your cute freckled cheeks turn red from smiling before. Or your beautifully off colored eyes light up like the 4th of July." I rolled my eyes, I always forget until she brings it up. I have heterochromia, which basically means I have different colored eyes because of an injury, proven by the little scar on top of my right eye.

"Right. But anyway, BB wants to interview you. Do I accept it?" I looked at her, raising my eyebrow in question. Interviews are definitely sketchy, seeing as we can't exactly tell them that Cris had the idea 300 years ago and finally followed through with making it a bit over 50 years ago. "Yeah of course! I have a script! I knew someone would want to interview me sooner or later." She huffed and threw her dark brown hair over her shoulder, before leaving with a sway of her hips. She's a flirt, my girl. I started typing a response before seeing the name of the sender. Stella. Just that? No last name? Well, can't blame her. I'm Fiona, end of story.