𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ➶

𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: ℍ𝕒𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕

When Morticia said they would be staying at her family's winter lodge, Valentina imagined a large cabin, maybe a small bed-and-breakfast at the most... Not a massive hotel resort!

"How big is this place?" She asked, completely awestruck.

"Oh, it has maybe seventy guest rooms. So, large, but nothing too extravagant." She wondered what the older girl's definition of extravagant was, because it certainly wasn't the same as her own.

"Where are the rest of the guests?" A place like this must be booked all year round! But the only other people she'd seen so far had been members of Morticia's friend group or the staff.

"Oh, the Briarswood Hotel is not open in the winter, I'm afraid. It's haunted, you see, and its ghosts tend to become more active as the months get colder."

"Haunted? You're not serious." She did her best to sound light-hearted, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her true feelings. She wasn't the superstitious type, but she wasn't stupid either. Why should ghosts be a myth when the rest of the supernatural was real?

"Only as serious as death," Tish answered with a conspirator's smile. "You see... It has been the site of a lot of unsavory events. Suicides, gangland killings, and many, many suspicious changes of ownership... Yet the hotel remains a luxurious destination known for its sumptuous grounds and spectacular mountain view."

The scenery might be breathtaking, but --dear God-- there wasn't anywhere else in the world that Valentina would rather not be.

"Don't look so worried, mon chou... If any of the resident haunts touch so much as a hair on your head, I'll personally burn the whole place down."

A lot of good revenge will do a dead girl, she thought but didn't voice.

Instead, she preoccupied herself with counting the guests as they arrived. There were about two dozen of them, not counting the hostess and her boyfriend and girlfriend. Half she recognized either from mealtimes or in general, and the rest were likely plus-ones.

Most gave her no more than a smile and a casual wave, but Vincent made a point of coming up to her after Morticia left to discuss that night's dinner menu with the head chef.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked. Wow... He certainly knew how to make a girl feel welcome.

"Me? What the hell are you doing here?"

His left eye twitched in annoyance. "I think you know what I'm doing here." And she did. In all likelihood, he was still looking for any evidence that might help him solve Deuce's disappearance. What he thought he'd find at Tish's family lodge was anyone's guess. "Now you."

She debated being deliberately contrary and refusing to answer him, but ultimately decided against it. "I was dragged here." One of the rules the power couple set for her was that she couldn't say she was abducted or kidnapped, but she supposed she could talk around the point.

"That's a relief," he sighed. "I thought I was going to spend all winter break listening to them yearn and pine for you."

"Yeah, well, I thought I was going to spend Christmas in sunny California. So at least one of us is happy." She was still pouting, but she felt she had a right to be angry. Her mother must be so worried about her... Maybe if she could get her hands on a phone or a crystal ball... Ah, but that would be against the rules.

Gomez and Morticia had been tight-lipped about what her punishment would be if she didn't play along, but there was a sadistic gleam in both their eyes. They assured her that they'd have fun no matter what. But she really didn't want to explore their definition of fun.

"Why are you even dating those two?" Vincent asked outright. His face was a mask of disinterest, but there was barely-restrained fervor in his voice. It was obvious he cared, as much as he pretended not to.

What was there to care about, though? They weren't friends. They were barely acquaintances, Gomez and Morticia being the only threads that bound them.

She turned to blink up at him in bewilderment, but he was looking away, not at her but somewhere over her left shoulder.

"They love me," she told him. Understatement of the year.

"But you don't love them back! Whenever they're around, you look like an animal in a trap, ready to chew off your own arm if it means escape."

Ouch! Did she really? That must break Morticia and Gomez's hearts. Or maybe it made their passions burn even hotter. It was hard to tell with those two.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"I owe them a chance."

He rejected her answer with a scoff. "You don't owe them shit! Do you know how many girlfriends I'd have run through by now if I gave every girl with a crush a shot?"

This was different, though. This wasn't natural puppy love. This was infatuation, aimed like a gun to the head, and she was the one who pulled the trigger. Twice.

But she couldn't tell him as much, couldn't even hint at it, lest she give away her family's most closely guarded secret. "Why are you telling me this?" She asked instead. He had no skin in this game, after all.

"Because someone ought to," he answered, simple as that. And she believed him. His concern was coming from a good place. But--

"Cariño!" A familiar voice exclaimed, and into the lobby waltzed Gomez with his signature grin, holding aloft what looked like a film reel. "Look, look!" Then, sensing the tension --so thick it could be cut with a knife-- between Valentina and Vincent, he stopped. His smile grew wider. Dangerously so, until it looked like it might just split his face in two. "Am I interrupting something?"

"What? No! No..." She said before looking to Vincent, looking for him to deny it as well. Except he didn't. Instead, he just stared Gomez down. Of course, he had to choose now of all times to start another pissing contest.

Gomez held his gaze, didn't blink until Vincent did. Spooky. And, admittedly, a little kooky. Suffice to say, it was right in character for him. Flush with victory from their little staring contest, he turned his attention back to his girlfriend.

"Look what I found! An original reel of A Nightmare on Elm Street! Tish told me how you love horror movies." God, she could only imagine what Morticia told him about the night of their little movie marathon in Ophelia Hall's rec room.

"No! I mean, I bet Morticia will have her hands too full entertaining everyone to sit down and watch with us. What a shame."

"That's why we'll all be piled up in the home theater to watch it together," he explained. "It'll be amazing! Just you wait."