Bad Feelings (Zach's Daughter series, Book Five, The Vampire Diaries)

Chapter 4__For Whom the Bell Tolls

Damon had taken Stefan out last night to try to jog his memory of who he was or who we were. 

We sat together in the Grill now. 

A guy at the bar held a shot of liquor and rang a bell, gathering everyone's attention. "To Uncle Steve!" 

"To Uncle Steve!" everyone repeated.

Everyone raised their glasses and drank, including us. 

"Yeah!" Damon said.

"Wow," Stefan said. "This town always so upbeat about dead people?" 

"Well, in the theme of morbid town tradition, you go back to the 1820s when everyone was so paranoid about the cholera thing that they would occasionally bury a body a wee bit before its time," I told him.

"So, we have a holiday dedicated to burying people alive?" Stefan asked.

"Well, they were so paranoid that they would actually request to be buried with a string attached to a bell above ground, and then the whole family would hang around the grave for 24 hours in hopes of hearing the bell and that their loved one would come back," I explained. "But now it's just really--it's really a kick ass excuse to get hammered." 

"And how do you know this?" Stefan asked.

"My dad may have taught one or two . . .or all . . .of the town history and events," I answered, tossing back a shot. 

"Right, your dad, who was our 'uncle', when he was really a distant nephew, which makes you our 'cousin', when you're really a distant niece," Stefan said. "Did that come out right?" 

"Actually, yeah," I answered. "I say we drink to it." 

We each tossed back a shot. 

A waitress walked up to our table, starting to pick up the empty glasses. 

"Hello," Damon told her. 

"Hi," the waitress told him.

Stefan stared at the waitress' carotid. 

I looked at the waitress. "Uh, hey. We'd love another round, please."

"You got it," the waitress told me, turning around and walking away.

Stefan watched her leave, turning his head to watch her go, stretching his neck a little. He snapped out of it, looking at Damon and me. "What the hell was that?" 

"That, my brother, was you jonesing for something a little stronger than a blood bag," Damon answered.

"So, what's the problem?" Stefan asked. "You guys spent the whole day trying to convince me I was a vampire. I'm convinced. Let me act like one." 

"Well, unfortunately, Stefan, there are two types of vampires in the world, okay?" Damon asked. "There are those that can handle moderation, and then there's you." 

"Well, I'm no shrink," Stefan told us. He looked at us for reassurance. "Right?" 

"Right," I answered.

"But maybe killing our father and turning into a vampire and all the trauma associated with that is what made me become a vampire who fed on people and then rips their head off, but now that I don't have all those memories and all that guilt, maybe the Ripper thing won't be such a problem," Stefan told us.

"Let's not try it out, okay?" I asked.

The bell rang.

We clinked our glasses, about to take a drink.