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

Chapter 2.1: The Notorious B.O.B (pt 1)

"If you were here to kill me," I said, way too cocky for my own good, "I'd be already wondering how this knife got in my chest." I made sure to be overly dramatic this time. "Oh, wait! There isn't a knife in my chest, so you're obviously here to get the one you left in my back."

"Smooth Bobbikins. Wait... are you holding a grudge against me? How sweet!"

I slammed a branded plastic novelty cup from a McDonald's Happy Meal (don't judge me, okay?) into the Keurig, smashed the button to turn it on and turned to Beatrice, determined to give her the full force of my anger.

"You left me to die."

"But you didn't die. Well, okay you did, but at least it wasn't something you couldn't come back from."

"I burned! In the sunlight. There was a lot of screaming. From me. Screaming. Ahhhhh. Like that."

The coffee finished pouring, and I grabbed the cup more roughly that was completely necessary. Coffee sloshed up over the side and almost burned my hand.

"I would have thought you were more of a falsetto," Beatrice said, watching me avoid the spill.

"I was just getting warmed up." I sat down and took a cigarette from her pack. "I'm stealing one of your cigarettes."

"I didn't know you smoked."

"I don't. I quit two years ago. But like they say: there's no such thing as an ex-smoker, just a smoker looking for an excuse."

"Nobody says that."

"I just made it up. Seemed appropriate."

Beatrice let me stew for a moment, and I had time to notice that she'd actually had her hair done. It was braided in some intricate design that pulled her long blonde hair back from her face; almost like she had been auditioning to be an elf in the Lord of the Rings, that's how intricate the braids were. Definitely different and more striking than anything she had worn before.

I looked around the apartment and wondered just how long she had been sitting there waiting for me. It stank of cigarette smoke, and I knew I would be smelling remnants of that smoke on my couch for weeks to come. If there were any clothes strewn about the apartment, then they were also going to stink until I could get to the laundry. This, of course, irritated me to no end, but I just kind of rolled with it. Who smokes more than half a pack of cigarettes in an apartment that's not theirs anyway, I hear you ask? What kind of person does that? May I offer Exhibit-A, otherwise known as Beatrice, also known as the deadliest woman I know, and also known as the kind of woman I tend to try not to be on the wrong side of. I had decided that she was going to be my sworn enemy, but I hadn't got around to telling her yet.

The cigarette pack was half-empty, crushed out filters sitting on a plate in the middle of the table, ready to stink up the place. There was an empty burrito wrapper next to it and a box with three uneaten and soggy fish tacos. Apparently, Beatrice had been there long enough for the food to get cold and to get bored enough to eat her own. What the hell was going on?

"If I said I came to offer you an apology, what would you say to that?"

"I don't know. Is that something you're likely to say? I kinda got the feeling you weren't the type to make apologies."

"I'm not, so this is me playing nice... and I'm already getting bored, so let's drop it."

"So no apology?"

"How about a punch in the teeth instead?"

"Aaaaaaand she's back, ladies and gentlemen!"

Beatrice grinned and took a long drag on her cigarette while giving me a long appraising look. It was as if she was seeing me for the first time, and it was a little disturbing to see Beatrice look at me as if she wasn't considering how best to dispose of my body. I always had considered her usual way of looking at me as a flavour of scorn; it was simply how I was accustomed to Beatrice looking at me. The only other time it had been different was when she had left me to burn in the morning sun, and that time, it had been a lot more disturbing. It had been almost gleeful as if she was waiting for something to happen.