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

Chapter 11.2 - The Wicked One

Watched clocks and pots have one thing in common: they both instinctively know now to go quantum, where the act of observation makes them seem like they had discovered time travel and were, in fact, moving backwards, just to fuck with you.

If you've ever spent a long time waiting for something to happen, you know exactly what it feels like. I could imagine soldiers on a battlefield during a cease-fire, each side waiting in agonizing silence that stretched on forever, each sound amplified, nerves drawn tight, sure that the inevitable betrayal was going to happen at any moment. Some idiot would eventually shift awkwardly and either set off his rifle accidentally or cause the sunlight to glint off of something, causing the other side to think a sniper was in position and they had to act now. Either way, each would claim that the other side was to blame as the slaughter continued, but at least the silence would have been broken or at least shot into a million pieces.

I think I lasted about ten minutes.

Absolutely nothing happened.

We weren't attacked. Nobody snuck up on us and murdered us on the spot. The elevator didn't ding suddenly as Beatrice managed to bypass the security and make it all the way to the penthouse. None of that happened. It was just me sitting there in a pool of sweat, freaking the fuck out and watching the elevator, waiting for something bad to happen.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I abruptly got to my feet and walked quickly towards the elevator, grabbing my coat from the couch where I had casually tossed it earlier. Both Ronnie and Claude were startled by my sudden movement.

"Dude! Where are you going?"

"I'm going for a Cinnabon!" I yelled as I exited, and yes, that was exactly what I had meant to say this time. Dammit.

I exited the elevator, the loose plan forming in my head, a plan fueled in small part by fear and in large part by the kind of righteous anger that gets men killed. I knew this and I didn't care. I had simply reached the point where I had to do something, anything, and waiting around to be killed was just pathetic.

I figured if Beatrice wanted to kill me, at least Claude and Ronnie wouldn't have to watch.

I threw on my coat and pulled up the hood as I exited the lobby of the building, heading for the building directly across the street. It was the same building where Beatrice and I had fucked in front of that assassin like we didn't care.

Even though I was in the shadow of the building, my skin still tingled from the indirect ambient sunlight. It's a different deal walking in shadow in a downtown area and it's because of the reflective nature of glass. The more glass there is, the greater the chance of catching a stray ray of sunlight, and where we were, there was a lot of glass, especially on both of these condo buildings.

I dodged cars as I crossed the street, head low to avoid any of the narrow strips of sunlight between the buildings, and was once again safe in the shade, skin on my face and hands still tingling, but better than burning.

I entered the building as if I owned the place. The concierge, a tall skinny man in an expensive suit tipped his head toward me.

"Mister Diego," he said, "so good to see you again."

I glanced at the man, wondering how he knew who I was. I hadn't spoken to him before had I? I had been planning on trying to glammer him to see if he would let me upstairs and by the way, what floor was Beatrice on again? Apparently, there was no need. He gestured towards the bank of elevators.

"Take the third elevator. Miss Beatrice is expecting you."

Not spooked out at all, and definitely expecting the biggest trap that would redefine everything that traps could possibly be, I entered the elevator. I spent the next twelve seconds wondering what Beatrice had in store for me, telling myself that of course, this was a bad, bad idea, and by the way, did I mention how much of a bad idea this is?