Page 24 of End Game
I laughed. Even though he basically lived his life like a vampire already, the last thing I would do is to force this curse on anyone.
“Seriously,” Ren continued. “It’s what he wants.”
My sleepy stupor vanished, and my eyes widened. I shifted to lift an arm up on an elbowand rest my chin on my palm. “What are you on about?”
She peered up into my eyes and twisted a ringlet of my hair round and round her finger. “He wants to be a vampire. He wants to be around forever to care of Astrid.”
“You two must be daft, talking about something so horrid,” I remarked.
“Why? Why is it horrid?” she questioned. “You’re a vampire and you’re lovely, Little Doll.”
“I’m a monster whose only purpose is depraved fucking and constant murder. Plus, I get headaches so bad that I want to kill myself. But I can’t since I’m a goddamned immortal. They don’t call this a curse for nothing, Willow Wisp.”
Her face fell, and she regarded me sadly. “I had no idea you felt that way, Nova,” she whispered. “I hope you know that isn’t how I see you. Or Fane. Or Astrid. I'm sure your other brother doesn't see you like that either!”
I chuckled again. “Draven is like a big dumb yellow dog who loves everyone, so strike him from the list because he’s a horrible judge of character.”
Ren laughed too. “Well, maybe you’re right on that count. But on all others, you’re wrong. You’re a perfect monster.” She craned her neck to lift her lips to mine.
The next night, Ren came to me and told me to get dressed. We were going to London. I was ready for adventure and always wishing to get out from under the oppressive atmosphere that had infected Blackmoth House since my father’s and Cleo’s deaths.
She was wearing a lovely deep purple silk dress with her copper hair plaited and woven into a sophisticated updo. I put on a purple dress of my own, although mine boasted a plunging neckline versus her high neck. I left my tresses curly and flowing down by back. We complimented each other, the perfect picture of good and evil hand in hand.
Soon we were off in a carriage, rattling off the grounds. The driver seemed to have already made some sort of arrangement with Ren ahead of time, since he knew right where she intended us to go.
Once in London, we came to a ramshackle building which housed, among other things, an old coffee house called Shadow and Steam. A “penny university,” as my brother Fane would call it, because you could get coffee and tea cheap, and have a great conversation with questionable sorts. Anytime of the day or night. He had been a frequenter of this place in myprevious life and I’d always wanted to know what it was like. But I had always been rebuffed like a pesky little child trying to tag along with her much too important older brother.
But now here we were, being let out at the front door.
Inside, the place was bursting with patrons. Who knew there were so many people up all night? And it wasn’t even the sort of place I would frequent at night to fuck and feast… People were seated all around at small round tables, consuming tea, smoking, talking boisterously, laughing. And that was all. No major sinning or broken laws happening to speak of. I detected a few vampires among the patrons, but even they seemed to behave.
Ren clung to my hand, and we wandered on a winding path among the tables as though we had someone to meet.
Soon, I realized we did.
My brother Fane. He was flanked on one side by our cousin Carmilla, and on the other side by an unearthly tall and thin man with long stringy black hair, whose face was as yet obscured under the brim of his tall and dirty top hat.
I recollected Ren’s suggestion that I turn Fane and felt ambushed.
We slid around the table with the others, and I nodded primly at Carmilla and then at Fane. Thethird fellow lifted his chin and revealed his face to me.
I shoved back from the table so hard that my chair overturned, and I toppled unceremoniously to the grimy floor.
His face was long and white as death, the skin sagging and peeling as though he’d long since begun to rot. He had a jutting chin and a smile that was meant to be friendly but appeared monstrous as his thin lips pulled back and exposed rows of long and jagged razor sharp teeth. His eyes were tiny, yellowed pins. The suit he wore was dirty, disheveled, and about one hundred years out of style. He hissed and lowered his chin, retreating once more beneath the shadow of his hat brim.
Fane groaned and leaped up to circle the table and help me right my chair. “Oh please, Little Doll. You’ve always wanted to come here and be a grownup, and this is how you act? Rude. It’s just our cousin, Varney!”
I frowned and looked at the ugly man again, tipping my head to get another glimpse of that nightmarish visage. “Varney? Like Varney the Vampyre from that book?”
Varney shyly peered up once more and gave another smile, which he made an obvious attempt to dial back to a less terrifying wattage.
“Yes, Varney from the book. Which was a hit piece, by the way,” said the deathly man. It was so peculiar to see a vampire that was so…
Terribly ugly.
“But it said that you threw yourself into Mt. Vesuvius,” I remarked.
Everyone at the table rolled their eyes and groaned.
