Alethea has always been awkward - eccentric, even. On a typical day she spends her time cloistered inside a tiny apartment hiding from the world she doesn't really understand. When her therapist encourages her to push herself outside her comfort zon...
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Plane ticket to England: 1200 dollars. A bottle of scent-masking shampoo and soap to help hide me from vampires: 7 dollars. The look on Roran's face when I finally find him and plant my size seven boot in his face for being so stupid: Priceless.
I wasn't really sure where to start looking for him, but I eventually decided to try his last known location. After all, upon returning to life I had ended up in front of my apartment, so it stood to reason the same logic could be applied to Roran.
The only problem was Roran had told me he had been in Avalon before being sent to purgatory and the last time I checked no one actually knew the location of Avalon. It was supposed to be a fictional, mythical, made-up place for goodness sakes! Fortunately however, after hours of research and more cups of coffee than should be allowed by law, I had discovered Glastonbury Abbey was thought to be the mythical location of Avalon, so I hopped a plane to merry old England.
The abbey was full of tourists when I arrived, so I hung back and waited for them to clear out before asking any questions. The tour guide looked like something out of a low-budget zombie film: dead-eyed and drained of energy. He barely dignified the tourists' questions with more than a grunt or a head jerk. His dirty shirt had been buttoned wrong, so the collar jutted out awkwardly on one side. I doubted he would be of any help, but at the moment this was the only lead I had to go on.
"Excuse me," I said, getting his attention after most of the patrons had left. "Could I ask you a couple of questions?"
As I expected, he only grunted and shrugged his shoulders. Sensing the reason behind his indifference I asked, "Is there somewhere around here that sells coffee?"
His eyes perked up immediately and nodded. "Just down the street there. I'm up for a break soon. I could show you the way?"
I smiled and tried to look excited by the prospect of having coffee with him. "That would be wonderful, thank you."
After a few minutes he motioned for me to follow him and we set off at a snail's pace down the street. Part of me wanted to scream at him for wasting my time, but I held it in. It didn't take long to reach the little shop and after he had had two shots of expresso and a black coffee the tour guide looked a bit more cheery.
"So I'm Alethea," I said, trying to break the ice.
"Matt," he replied. I waited for him to continue, but he was too busy guzzling his coffee like it was water.
Taking a deep breath and crossing my fingers under the table I asked, "Well, um, Matt, I was wondering, have you noticed anything odd happening at the abbey lately? Anyone strange visiting?"
"I should have known," he replied with a groan and an eye roll. "You're one of them."
I shook my head. "One of whom? I'm not following."
"Reporters," he snapped and slumped in his seat. "I've already told everyone I wasn't there when it happened."
"I think you have the wrong idea. I'm not a reporter."
