So I'm a Vampire... Now What? - Book 2 (Original Version)

Chapter 8.2 - Night of the Vampire pt 2

Now if you're anything like me, you're dying to know more about this party. You just want me to skip over any niceties like me checking in with the guys or even meeting up with Beatrice. It's okay: I completely understand. If this were a movie, we'd just skip through all of the fiddly bits and do a nice jump cut of Beatrice's car pulling up at a glitzy party with lots of paparazzi. There's maybe even a shot of Beatrice exiting the car dramatically, all legs, stunning red dress and diamonds, escorted by me looking as slick as possible in the very expensive (and custom-tailored) tuxedo she had provided for me.

It's all about the party, right?

Did Beatrice and I have sex almost as soon as she dragged me into the elevator? Of course, we did, and it was explosive and hot as always. It was a reminder of how good it felt to be alive.

Did I check in with the guys? Of course, I did. Natalie was a little bit testy, but that seemed to be her default setting recently; Benjamin was possibly suffering from some form of PSTD, Frankie was sulking, and Stanley was way too hyped up about getting a new workout routine. Other than that, they seemed perfectly fine.

I did find out that it had been almost eighteen hours since we had been killed by the woman in the alley. I still hadn't come up with a nickname for her so I couldn't even quip about it properly. Beatrice had actually returned to the church a few minutes too late to stop the attack, but she had been in time to stop our attacker from doing anything else drastic. By drastic, I mean cut our fucking heads off.

"What do you mean cut our fucking heads off?"

"If you want to kill a vampire, you gotta cut off the head. It's the only way to be sure."

"Was that a thing she was about to do?"

"No? Maybe? She did have a sword, so I'm going to assume she was going to use it."

"Fuck," I said, rubbing my neck absently. "Tell me the fight was at least epic."

"Oh it was fucking epic, but she got away."

Beatrice had brought us back to the facility, but that had been the previous night, so we had missed a whole day while in recovery.

We were in the car when she made this revelation. I had just noticed the time and wondered how it could be earlier in the evening than I had remembered it being. I thought to ask her why she had left us inside the body-bags and hadn't taken us to Madame Vera's, but then figured that she had her reasons. Good reasons, right?

Panicked, I checked my phone, and sure enough, there were a dozen messages from Sammy checking to see if I was going to make it to work on time.

"I can't go to a party!" I pleaded to Beatrice. "I have to go to work!"

"Too late sweetie," she had said, expertly guiding the car through the night traffic at speeds that were way too high for anyone who wasn't Beatrice.

"Sammy is going to kill me. She's going to yell at me first. Like a lot, but then comes the murder."

"It's just a job. I could pull some strings and get you a much better job..."

"While that would be so freaking awesome," I said with careful consideration, "right now, Sammy is depending on me to honour the promise I made. She's my friend, and I'm supposed to have her back at work. She's never going to trust me if I leave her stranded like this. It's a really shitty thing to do."

Beatrice glanced at me, but not too long since she was driving. You know those scenes in the movies where people spend too long looking at each other while driving, and you keep waiting to crash? This wasn't one of those scenes. We zipped in and out of cars on the busy downtown streets, and Beatrice needed to look where we were going. The look spoke volumes though. There was a hint of irritation, consideration and then cautious appreciation.