Your Coffin or Mine, page 14
I flex my hands and stretch. “Yes, some, but I’m not at full power yet.”
He stares daggers at me, holding his bowl of food as if worried I will take it again, feet shuffling backward as he makes his way to the door. “Maybe next time you’ll rethink not eating for a century.”
I follow him and he stops me before I head toward the dining room.
He nods toward the parlor doors. “She’s set lunch up there, and says she likes the light.” He shakes his head at me when I raise my brow and sniff lightly. “If you were a youngling, you’d have died an hour ago just from the fumes. I think you’re safe.”
I cringe at him. “It’s not the same as ingestion, as you well know.”
“The things we do for love, and by we, I mean you. A fucking vampire eating garlic willingly, you realize you’re an idiot,” he says, while shoving more of Aubrey’s food into his mouth.
I stare in disgust, my body fairly shuddering with revulsion as I watch him eat. “Chances are I’m immune. Have you heard of a napkin?”
Vampires heal at an alarming rate already, so as the years pass, they become immune to properties like garlic. Even the sun doesn’t burn as bright after the first five hundred years. But it does still burn.
“Shhh. It’s delicious. So good.” He groans, swiping at his mouth with a hand. “And besides, chances are your undead heart could stop for real, but luckily I have the EpiPen. Not to worry, Vlad, I won’t let her kill you.”
Doyle claps me hard on the back and I growl low. I follow behind him toward the old parlor room.
I haven’t spent much time in this part of the castle, but fully approve of her choosing to eat here. The windows are large, and the pale color of the walls gives the place a sense of the outdoors, but it’s cozy and intimate.
Aubrey’s head is bowed in concentration at a small round table near one of the more lavish lancet windows the castle is equipped with. She clicks away at her phone, a sharp frown on her face.
Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I send Doyle a text, which is rather simple with my only contacts being Frank and Doyle.
Me:
I need Aubrey’s contact information.
Doyle:
Why?
Me:
Now.
Dots surface on the screen and I scowl, watching across the table as Doyle’s fingers punch digits inhumanly fast.
Doyle:
Here you go, enjoy sexting.
A photo accompanies his text with a nine-digit number.
“What the hell is sexting? Plus one?” I whisper.
Aubrey
Sitting at the large, lavish dining table, I pout at Vlad sitting across from me, with Doyle next to him.
“Just try a bite. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it.” I smile, looking down at my now almost empty plate and Doyle’s, which is practically licked clean.
Vlad has yet to touch a bite and has been staring at it for the last five minutes as if it’s going to jump off the plate and attack him. I can’t help a little laugh that escapes me from the look on his face.
“Very well.” He sniffs hesitantly before popping a bite into his mouth.
I nod, waiting for his reaction as he chews. Gram’s recipe really is the best. “Good, huh?”
“Mmmm. It’s good. Just splendid.” Vlad digs in for another forkful and my phone pings just as Doyle burps loudly.
“Ugh, Doyle, gross,” I say, grinning.
He leans back in his chair and rubs a hand over his stomach, groaning like a man well fed.
“My apologies, madam, and my compliments to the chef. Simply marvelous,” he says, kissing his pinched fingers with a smacking sound and opening his hand. Suddenly, his eyes flare wide and he gasps, pointing out the window to my left. “Look! A wolf.”
“Where?” I squeal with excitement.
Rushing to my feet, I look out at the snowy hill just as Vlad lets out a horrible grunt. I turn around to see him clenching his eyes shut, and I scream, the sound shrill and piercing to my ears. The floor shakes violently, and the table quakes, shaking every dish on it as if there’s an earthquake. Even the light above flickers.
“Oh my god!” I cry out and move into action from what they teach in schools.
I duck under the table and cover my head with my hands. The room goes strangely quiet after a few seconds. When the shaking stops, I peek out from under the table, only to see a panicked look plastered across Vlad’s face.
“What was that?” I ask, my breaths shallow.
Vlad groans, a look of rage covering his expression before it clears. Anxiety creeps up my spine, making my skin flush as I slowly move to stand up, worried another quake may start again.
“Excuse me,” Vlad coughs out, his face cherry red, before he practically runs from the room.
“That’s unfortunate,” Doyle voices oddly, watching him leave from his seat.
I stare at Vlad’s retreating form in confusion. “Where are you going?” I blurt out and move to go after him, but Doyle hurries to cut me off and shakes his head.
“Stay here, Aubrey. He’ll be back soon.”
I frown and my shoulders droop. Between the earthquake and Vlad’s reaction, I’m wondering if maybe my cooking is cursed. “What happened?”
“Just a tiny tremor, nothing to worry about. They happen at random sometimes. I think Vlad went to go check the, uh, castle foundations, though.”
The foundations? Is that a thing? Crap, I bet everyone in the village felt that and a whole castle sits on top of it. Oh no. “Is the village okay?”
“Perfectly safe, Aubrey. No worries, they don’t even feel them. I promise.” He gestures toward the door, and I turn to glance at the table, lunch completely ruined and water dripping off the table. “Don’t worry about that, either. I think now would be a good time to show you another part of the castle.”
I shake my head in disbelief. No way they didn’t feel that—it shook the whole castle. “What do you mean? That was crazy.”
He rocks back on his heels before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Come, let me distract you. This will be the perfect time to get you to look at the ballroom with me. We need theme ideas on colors, that sort of thing.”
I think to myself how maybe they should move. Eesh. I hope the quakes don’t happen that often, even if they are harmless.
“I’ve been trying to think of ways to get more people to come stay.”
The subject change is not lost on me, but I indulge his comment and let my promotional brainstorming take over. What touristy things could pull some people to visit? I know Mom has an entire flock of women who adore visiting vineyards.
I can’t help but laugh and say, “Might want to get rid of the tremors first?”
His eyes crinkle and his lips curl upward as we walk. “If only we could control the world, my dear.”
“Right,” I murmur. “Are there any wineries in the area?”
“Yes, the age here to drink is eighteen, and in each county, the wine tastes different. In most rural areas, the menfolk even make their own wine.”
That would totally add to the attraction. “Huh, that’s cool. Where I’m from, men only know how to make bad decisions.”
He smirks, and I can’t help but smile. “That tends to be the consensus of most women, in my experience. I’m sure the women here would say the same, which is why I need your help.”
Doyle leads me down a hallway before turning a corner and approaching a set of double doors.
“I’ll do what I can,” I offer.
“I want to know what you think of holding the whole event here.” He pushes open the doors to reveal the ballroom and I gasp in amazement at the sight before me. The room is large and grand, with high painted ceilings and black gothic chandeliers that are all lit, casting shadows around the room.
“Shut up.” I gape at the fresco paintings on the ceiling. “Oh my gosh! Look at the cherubs.”
The light-blue walls are adorned with ornate moldings and intricate paintings, and the marble floors gleam beneath our feet. Only issue is it’s a ballroom, but there is no room. Furniture lines the walls and sits haphazardly throughout the space, but it all looks movable. I spot a covered marble statue and itch to pull the sheet off to see what’s behind it.
“This room is amazing,” I breathe, looking down at the checkered marble floor.
He smiles. “Yes, it is. It was originally the great hall, but we turned it into a ballroom. It’s probably my favorite room in the castle, and there are several others, but those will need more renovations before they’re ready for visitors.”
I nod, taking in every detail of the room. “I think it’s perfect for a grand gala. You could even hold weddings here with this—and receptions.”
“Yep,” he agrees. “But I’m not sure what color scheme we should go with.”
I smile, feeling inspired by the possibilities. “Hmm. I’m thinking we lean dark and gothic. It’s got that vibe anyway.” I nod at the chandeliers that look like they’re made of a pretty onyx, glittering and shimmering above us, then point to the ceiling. “Shades of black, and maybe dark purple? We can use shades of gray to contrast with the darker colors. Do those chandeliers dim?”
He looks up at them. “They don’t, but I’m sure we can change that.”
“Some dim lighting and shadows will create one hell of an atmosphere.”
He nods and strokes his bearded chin. “You’re probably right.”
I turn around, walking to the blue wall to reach out and touch it, feeling the gray patterned fleur-de-lis things. “How do they even make this?”
“Wallpaper?” Doyle asks, his tone full of humor.
“This is so not wallpaper.”
“No, it’s really not. It’s called damask. When these walls were done—I believe two centuries ago—they were hand painted using blocks of wood that were cut to create the damask designs.” Doyle pulls his phone out and starts typing. “Right, so capes and vampire teeth. The whole thing. It’ll be awesome. Like a Halloween wonderland almost.” His eyes flit to mine and he wiggles his brows. “We just need to talk your boyfriend into it.”
My brow furrows. Is Vlad my boyfriend? He can’t be—you are leaving. I push the thought away.
Then, the joke registers and I giggle while rolling my eyes. “I can ask. Surely he will see it’s a good fit, right?”
“Vlad has never been one for change. But stranger things have happened.” His gaze sharpens on me as he continues, “You seem to be quite cozy with one another.”
My cheeks heat as I try to come up with a response, rocking back in my sneakers. “Um, yeah, I guess we are,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant.
Doyle nods, a small smile playing at his lips as he arches his eyebrows. “Vlad can be a bit . . . ummm . . .”
I giggle at his expression. “The stick-up-the-ass thing? Yeah, I noticed.”
“But you will never meet anyone more loyal.”
I nod in agreement, relieved that Vlad’s best friend would think so much of him. Chad’s friends are vapid people and mostly toxic; I never really liked any of them. But Doyle is just a genuinely nice person, and always making jokes. He might give Vlad shit a lot, but anyone with eyes can see how much he cares for him—and that’s rare.
“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I shrug. “Not much. Probably wait and see how Vlad is, and make sure the castle foundations are okay.” Which is probably the wildest thing I’ve ever said in my life.
“I promise Vlad is alright. The quakes haven’t happened for many, many years. I doubt they will again any time soon.”
I hope he is right. “Okay.”
His shoes clack across the gleaming marble as he heads back to the hallway. “Stop worrying about Vlad. He will be back before you know it, and truly, Aubrey, the grand opening will be epic.”
My shoes squeak as I pivot on the shiny floor and follow him. “Hmm, do you think I can get Vlad to dress up? Maybe a vampire costume, or maybe even a werewolf?” I can’t see Vlad ever willingly playing dress up, but I want to try. It’ll be good for him to have some fun.
He smirks and holds out his fist, wanting a fist bump, and I hit his knuckles lightly with mine. “I think if anyone can talk him into wearing one, it would be you.”
Breaking into a lopsided grin at his compliment, I glance off to the side in embarrassment. “I guess we will see then.”
He opens the door and bows, gesturing for me to leave first. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
I shuffle into the hallway and watch curiously as he flicks a nearby light switch, throwing the ballroom into darkness. He closes the doors and I pull my phone from my pocket when I feel it vibrate with a message from an unknown number. Weird.
I frown before I even open it. “Will do.”
He turns around to stare at me solemnly. “And Aubrey?”
My eyes flick to his, my brows raising. “Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
I smile, although I’m unsure why. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
A smile spreads across his face before he turns to leave.
I watch him go, feeling a sense of warmth in my chest. Excitement flutters through me, and I hope I can help Doyle make the castle a vacation hotspot. I just need to get Vlad on board. Maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up.
I open the message to find a simple text that reads: You have a present.
Confused, I look at the message again. What? This has got to be spam or a prank.
As I stand there, pondering, my phone buzzes again with another message from the same unknown number: Check under your bed.
Vlad.
My heart races as I slowly make my way to my room. Lifting up the bed skirt, I peek underneath and retrieve a small box wrapped in shiny red paper.
Trembling with excitement, I unwrap it to find a beautiful silver necklace with a large, elegant, red-jeweled pendant. Holy shit. Is this real? No way this is a real ruby, but the tiny diamonds twinkling in the light have my stomach flipping. Surely he wouldn’t. Nah, no way it’s real.
I quickly add him to my contacts and shoot him a message.
Me:
Are you okay?
Vlad:
Perfectly fine. How do you like it?
Me:
It’s beautiful but it’s way too much. OMG how are the foundations???
The three little dots spin and spin for a moment before a message finally comes through.
Vlad:
They are fine. I am sorry that lunch was ruined.
Me:
It wasn’t ruined! And it’s okay, as long as the village is alright. That was super scary.
Vlad:
Everything is fine. I will be back as soon as I can.
Me:
Okay. Be careful
I frown, tossing the phone onto my bed, my gaze landing on the ruby necklace. What a wild vacation this has turned out to be.
Chapter 19
VLAD
Doyle looks up from his phone, seated at the small kitchen table as I walk through the door. “She’s asleep.”
The fact that he knew she was asleep before I did gets my hackles up. “It reeks of garlic in here.”
He raises an eyebrow and grins. “Where did you go?”
I lean against the kitchen counter, the stainless-steel surface even colder than I am. “The local pub,” I scoff. “Where the fuck did you think I’d gone?”
I spent the last few hours walking around the castle, attempting to force my fangs and claws to retract like an untried vampire in his youth. To say I found it humiliating would be a gross understatement, and I missed Aubrey opening her gift because of it.
His jaw clenches. “I’m sorry. I was a bit busy playing actor of the year with that performance about the fucking wolf that doesn’t exist, oh great and powerful one,” he says, typing away on his phone. “Just do me a favor and make sure Aubrey isn’t going to call some fucking government official on the castle, yeah? That’s all we need.”
“Why would she contact anyone? And by the way, spending the night roaming the castle grounds while waiting on my body to adjust was splendid. Thanks for asking.”
His phone clatters onto the table when he tosses it away before rubbing at his temples in frustration. “I’m pretty sure I was the one saying it was probably a bad idea to eat garlic. You know, since you’re a vampire. Now she thinks the castle has fucking earthquakes because you shook the whole damn building.”
“She what?” I wince, thinking back on my reaction. That’s why she asked about the foundations.
My powers came out and shook everything in the room. I feel bad that I scared Aubrey so much she hid under the dining table. I also seem to be having a reaction to whatever chemical was in that EpiPen. It saved me from the garlic, but made everything else go haywire.
“The goal was to hide what you are from Aubrey and eat her poison, right?” He sucks in a breath. “Sorry, meant to say food.”
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles. “If I had known how you would react to the pen, things would have happened differently, but at least we now know you can’t control yourself afterwards. And you didn’t end up killing anyone tonight,” he says, angling his head to eye my pants for blood stains.
I clasp my hands together on the counter and shrug nonchalantly. “The night is still young.”
He climbs to his feet and makes his way around me, and I take in his missing suit jacket, and his rolled shirtsleeves. He moves behind the kitchen counter, bending out of sight to retrieve something.
