Fangs and Other Fairy Tales (A Camren Fanfic)

Chapter 24

'Please tell me the Moriarty's are your good natured cousins from out of town who aren't going to cause trouble' I asked and Taylor shook her head.

'Not even close' she paused. 'Mila why are your tail and ears out?' she inquired, moving the left one up and down for good measure. I swatted her hand away and walked out of the room quickly before Lauren decided to join the conversation. Seriously Camila, what even was that? It was embarrassing, that's what it was. She either thinks you're a total freak or a complete weirdo, and yes I know those are basically the same things but I'd rather not be either of them. Of all of the things that have happened between us, this is the one that gets to me? What makes this situation any different? Oh I know what it is; you could just play all of those times off like they were nothing, but this one, this one you actually have to face up to. Why did I react that way? I mean we're just friends; it was a friendly gesture in a friendly setting between two people who are friendly toward each other... right? Maybe Lauren doesn't think I'm a freak at all, maybe she liked what happened? Okay now I'm just going crazy, it's not like she did it on purpose – did she?

Okay I need an Aspirin.

'Camila, hold up you didn't answer my question' Taylor called after me with Lauren close behind her.

'No comment, who are the Moriarty's?' I inferred trying to divert attention away from myself. My continuous walking soon led me to the kitchen and into the company of Clara and Chris who looked a little unnerved.

'They're relatives of ours who don't look so favourably on Vampire/Werewolf coalitions' Clara answered, her gaze drifting toward the window every now and again.

'How many relatives we talking?'

'Four – I'm going to find Dad' Chris replied, patting Clara's shoulder comfortingly before running off.

'Velorina, Flint, Caria and Phaidra Moriarty' Taylor clarified.

'And just how old are these relatives of yours?' I asked.

'Oh you know like your typical Vampire age, only fnurghdgr yehrs ould' the youngest Jauregui coughed.

'I'm sorry how old?'

'Four hundred years old' Lauren spoke up and it took everything for me not to look at her. I couldn't, I just...god. It's like having your best friend sleep over and you have a sex dream about them, then the next day they're asking why you have a stupid grin on your face and you wish you were dead. That's what this feels like.

'Okay, so what's the plan?' I said crossing my arms against my chest.

'The plan is to take you some place safe until our unwanted guests decide to leave' Mike stated as he along with Chris walked into the room. 'They're a few miles out but we still have to be quick'

'Who's going to take her? We can't all go, they'll suspect something if we're not here' Chris pondered.

'Good point, only one of us can go. It'll be easy to make up an excuse for their absence' Clara agreed.

'Why don't I just go alone? Walk around for a couple days, come back when you send out the all clear?' I suggested.

'They'll be able to smell your scent' Taylor explained.

'And if they find you we can't guarantee your safety' Chris continued.

'So who should we send with Camila?' Mike announced. It's at this very specific time where I feel like Harry, you know the kid from Hogwarts, when he's being sorted into his house and praying it's not Slytherin. Please don't let it be Lauren, not Lauren, not Lauren. I mean I know I'll have to speak to her again eventually, I just want it to be under my terms and not when my life is quite possibly in danger. I can plan out the conversation in the shower like I always do, make up some excuse, like 'psht, it was just a really erotic yawn' or something like that and get back to normal. Eurgh, I hate awkward confrontations and yet this isn't the first time I've been in this position in the last couple of weeks. I really am just trying to make life harder for myself aren't I? It's not like it was on purpose, I didn't ask Lauren to run her hands feverishly up and down my back, or that every feathery light caress of her fingertips feel like absolute euphoria. It was like a drug, and after a while even the coldness of her hands became addictive, every scrape of her nails like injecting a new dose...