Chapter 4:
I LOVE BEN AND JERRY'S CHOCCIE BROWNIE ICE CREAM! I was eating this when I got the inspiration to carry on with this chapter… true it's like 3am but WHO CARES? I HAVE ICE CREAM!
Urgh, literally in 10 mins I have to leave for my history source paper... not hard but WHY DO I HAVE AN EXAM? Oh yeah... I chose history.
Claire's POV:
Once the photos are finished with, I realise that we are going to have to go through to the ballroom soon, that we are going to be the second to last pair since Myrnin is so old and that everyone is going to be watching as we enter. I don't want to be 'presented' to the crowds: if I had wanted that, I would have made myself look absolutely perfect and have been a debutante rather than work my socks off to get into university two years early!
"Are you alright, little one?" Myrnin asks me gently, prodding my arm as we move to the side of the room. We are going to be waiting ages; the majority of the vampires may have paired up (no need to bring a human as an offering since this isn't a welcoming party) but there are loads of vampires in this town.
"I'm just a bit hungry," I shrug before finding myself being dragged backwards towards an area where I am assume there is food for the pitiful amount of humans here… actually, vampires as well since they can eat and everything.
Myrnin spins me round by the arm gently, revealing a buffet table full of the perfect party snack food for whilst we wait to go in. "I believed that you would get hungry whilst you waited as we have to wait for so long, so I requested Amelie have Oliver prepare some food," he says with a small smile… wait. This has been put here… for me?
"Myrnin, is this all for me?" I ask him slowly, something stirring inside of me as I think this. It's so nice of him to have considered me… but why? Wait… that's a silly question: I'm his assistant, his friend; he thinks of my feelings sometimes – it isn't often, since he is mainly self absorbed, but it does rarely occur and this is one of those instances.
He smiles and hands me a mini pizza, something which I graciously accept: I forgot that we would have to wait around for absolutely ages and didn't have time for lunch, so I haven't eaten since my breakfast almost twelve hours ago.
"Don't worry," he says, as I hold the pizza in my hand, contemplating whether I bite straight into it or find a knife and fork to cut it up with. "I can smell and there isn't any poison… Oliver knows better than to try and kill you… or he ought to," he trails off, evidently having taken my hesitation at eating it in a different way to what it actually was. But that is a very good point, something I ought to have considered. Yet I have to say, the reason for my blaséness is probably because I'm at a vampire function and to kill the vampires, poisoning food they probably won't even eat is just a waste of the poison.
"That's always good to hear," I say with a smile, deciding to take the plunge and bite into the margarita pizza rather than fiddle around with a knife and fork and probably end up spilling it all down my dress. Something tells me that Amelie would be less happy than she would have been if the food she had had provided for me ended up down the (most likely) expensive dress she got for me.
He smiles at me as I take another mini pizza from the table, but shakes his head when I offer him one. "No thank you, Claire, I prefer more traditional human foods than the modern rubbish that you seem to enjoy," he says politely enough, but I can tell that he is basically digging at human food from the American society. I do agree slightly… but pizza is Italian!
"So how did you get here?" I ask him randomly, deciding that it is best to fill the silence which could extend for an hour if I don't break it. He focuses on me from his original staring at the blue velvet curtains on the far side of the room and smiles slightly, his smile invoking a reaction in me that I wouldn't ever verbalise. It is so, so wrong to feel like this when the person is my boss, not my boyfriend!
He pulls a set of keys from his pocket and I groan, instantly regretting agreeing to go home in his transport – I don't think that I will survive. "Tell me, Myrnin, did you get here via Main Street?" I ask him, my heart sinking as he nods. "Then you were the one who knocked that old woman over and god knows how many mailboxes!"
"She was in the middle of the road and moving slower than a snail!" he tries to defend himself, but it doesn't really work.
"Slower than a snail?" I repeat in shock, horrified that this could be his excuse. "Myrnin, she is ninety four! Of course she is going to be a bit slow!" I continue, absolutely amazed that he isn't concerned.
He shrugs and shakes his head, the utter lack of concern he has for the human race astounding me once again. I shouldn't be surprised… no vampire, besides for Michael and Sam when he was around, has the remotest concern for humans. Then again, most of them draw the line with the elderly and don't harass them… especially the oldest woman in Morganville! (That is, of course, the oldest human woman, not just woman)
"I suppose that you are not too happy about my actions then?" he confirms idiotically, unnecessarily because he must know that I am not.
"What do you think that this face means?" I ask him sharply, glaring at him full on. I put the best Monica face on I have and only hope that this is enough for him to realise that I am utterly displeased with him.
"I think that you are trying in vain to get me to agree to give you a face transplant or something because you look extremely unflattering like that, Claire," he says, seeming entirely serious about his answer. Something about the hilarity of the answer makes me snort slightly, this being the only thing that stops me being entirely pissed off at him and gets me to relax a little.
"Fine, whatever," I shrug my shoulders and give in, knowing that I would never win against Myrnin anyway. He is the king at being in a mood with someone: he could give the champion mood swinger person in the Guinness World Records a run for their money – if there is such a thing – if he wanted to.
He smiles and takes my arm, spinning me around to look at him properly. I find myself staring into his perfect brown eyes, utterly lost in them and unable to see anything but him. He steals my attention entirely, him being the only thing I can even contemplate seeing for some strange reason. I am entirely focused on him. He's the only thing in my world for a few seconds, almost, and it is a strange feeling I get when I force myself to tear my eyes from his. It's almost longing, a painful separation of me and him when our eyes part from one another.
"We… we should go and see how long it's going to be till they need us," I say slowly, deciding that it's probably best to get into more of a crowd. It's so strange what he's making me feel and I don't like it. After all, I don't want to cheat on Shane: I love him! true we're having a rough time right now but that doesn't mean that I have to cheat on him, betray him with Myrnin, does it?
"You're right," Myrnin responds quietly, looking away from me as he walks beside me, dropping his grip on my arm. The sudden air to my arm seems comparatively warm in regards to his almost icy touch but… I don't care that his touch is cold. It seems natural…
… Which tells me I am spending way too much time with vampires!
A sudden jolt of realisation is, whilst I've been gorging on pizzas, the entire area around us has cleared. There is a good fifty metre radius around us, people eyeing us with almost a sense of trepidation and… fear? Why do they fear me? I'm a lowly human… they're vampires! They could kill me in one second flat! Then again, I have the vampire with me that was once; I am reliably informed, called 'Mr Crazy Vamp' who had the disease. Not entirely sure who came up with what is probably the most unoriginal name known to man, but it was true. He is crazy. Just nowadays he has the sense to hide that under the normality that he fights everyday to keep it under wraps and remain being the sane and loveable man he strives to be.
So, we're now apparently the new focal point in town, the new exhibit in the zoo that the little kids just have to go and see. But I ignore this as I walk beside Myrnin slowly towards the thinning crowd, just about able to hear the announcements through the thick wall of velvet that separates us from the room where we will be eating and then dancing later on.
"How long until we are needed?" Myrnin jumps straight in to ask the person who is lining up Anne Franklin and George Davies to be the next couple into the hall. This person – never seen them before – doesn't seem particularly happy that we are over here, bugging him in the midst of his very important job.
"Myrnin of Conwy?" he confirms for some reason, this being what Myrnin nods his head hastily to. "Then you'll be about another fifteen minutes. You're the second to last, didn't you know?" his tone implies he, like Oliver, thinks Myrnin is a waste of time and effort with idiotic experiments that don't do anything.
Myrnin, affronted, shakes his head and rolls his eyes at the dude. Whoa… I never realised that Myrnin would actually realise when he is getting dissed: he normally is so calm and… well, actually, not calm but more… crazy. He is definitely bubbly though, and doesn't normally seem to care what others think of him. Yet now, however, he seems pretty pissed off.
"Amazingly, I do know that I am the second to last to be announced," he snaps at the name caller (I don't know what else to call him) as he begins to whirl away. "You see, I am important in this town and I suppose I could destroy you if I-" he begins to threaten the person until I put a restraining arm on him and lead him away.
"Calm down and relax," I tell him sharply, not wanting to put up with an episode from him. After all, Amelie will kill me if I let Myrnin ruin her party. For some reason, he reacts to my touch and lets me pull him to the other side of the room. "Myrnin, Amelie will kill you if you mess anything up," I remind him sharply, turning him so that he is facing me. I shake both his shoulders to bring him back to me, him breathing heavily for some reason.
"I generally don't like to get my hands dirty, so please explain why I am killing Myrnin?" Amelie's cool voice stuns me from behind, scaring me out of my wits. I jump in the air and end up stumbling as I fall back down, my heels not exactly the most helpful thing to be wearing when you're doing that, until Myrnin grabs me. He steadies my arm and continues to hold onto me like before, making me fall into my little world again with just me and Myrnin.
"It doesn't matter," Myrnin says to her in response, realising somehow that I am entirely unable to speak. I don't know what's the matter with me… but my heart feels as if it is about to take off out of my chest for some reason. "You look stunning, Amelie, it's a shame you're with him," he snaps, of course, at his true best friend Oliver.
Slowly, careful not to embarrass myself in heels, I turn around to instantly realise that I, whilst I may look better than normal, am absolutely nothing compared to Amelie. She's slightly taller than me but she seems about 10 feet tall, the way that she holds herself. For once, her hair isn't pulled back but rather curled in corkscrew curls which are partially up at the back but mainly fall loosely over her shoulders, her white blonde hair almost camouflaging into her skin. The tangerine coloured dress ought to look absolutely disgusting but she makes it work entirely: no questions that if she was in the magazines for the Oscars or something she would be the one who got the 5 out of 5 rating. Myrnin's right… she looks truly amazing.
Oliver, surprisingly, looks pretty good as well: I realise he isn't as old as he appeared to be originally, the colour of his hair discreet with the way his hair is. He actually scrubbed up in a tux which surprises me, but if he is the escort of Amelie then he ought to…
"Claire, I am glad to see that you dressed appropriately in the dress I sent – there was a small worry I had that you would ignore it and end up wearing ghastly jeans," she shudders delicately at the end, a half smile on her face as she surveys me. The only time I have seen her truly smile, with no bitterness or mocking in there, was when she was looking into Sam's face… never to any other person have I seen her properly smile. So half a smile is close enough, I think.
"I wouldn't dream of it," I reply promptly, deciding to quash the part of me that considered yesterday doing just that to piss her off because she wouldn't let Shane come with me. I guess, by the way she is now observing me, she can tell that this is a lie but I don't care… it's true enough for this moment: now I am dressed up to the nines, I wouldn't dream of wearing jeans to this ball.
"Good," she responds finally, after a long pause. There is a tangible tension between Myrnin and Oliver but she ignores this, instead lingering longer. "Well, I believe you are going to be required in merely ten minutes now, Myrnin, so you can wait here. do not dare to cause an argument or anything with the caller as otherwise you will have your allowance for your 'discoveries' per year reduced to what Oliver makes on Christmas Day in Common Grounds: nothing. Do you understand?" she snaps at him, evidently wanting everything to be perfect. I do agree with that, however; if I were having a party, I wouldn't want someone else who is prone to ruining things turning up and destroying everything would I?
He nods slowly, respectfully, and ignores Oliver's gleeful look on his rather ugly face. I feel a rush of feeling for Myrnin, realising how he must be feeling to be reduced to nothing in front of someone he hates, and sorrow overtakes my body. I just want to comfort him… but that wouldn't be a good idea.
"I just need the toilet – be right back," I don't really need the toilet but I want to get out of this situation and get as far away from Myrnin as possible for a few minutes to clear my head. I just want to go back to a professional relationship with him, nothing more but nothing less either. Yet I seem to be drifting further and further towards the perilous line of wanting to almost have an affair with him… but I don't really. Do I?
Although they seem rather suspicious, the three vampires, they do not question me and I am soon scurrying across the room to the corner, where the toilets are. I think that there are literally two humans here, perhaps three I don't know, so they're empty – I think vampires do use the toilet, they just have no urges to go whatsoever. Strange… but I don't want to dissect what vampires do because I am not a vampire and I want to spend this time here not thinking of vampires whatsoever.
I dig my phone out of my bag and ring Shane, deciding that I need to speak to him to apologise or just to hear his voice – either one, I don't care to be honest. But no matter how many times I ring, he never answers. It's as if he is screening my calls and just doesn't want to talk to me, putting me on silent to stop him having his little party in the pub on his own, or with his new friends.
After about five minutes, I decide that I have spent enough time in the toilet and if I spend much longer in here Myrnin will be looking for me. So I walk out of the marble room and find Myrnin waiting by the door for me, looking slightly shifty. It's strange… I can't explain why he looks shifty; he just does!
"Myrnin, why are you over here?" I ask him, curious for he was supposed to be waiting with Amelie and Oliver on the other side of the room!
"Amelie sent me away because she didn't want me arguing with her 'date'," he twists the word 'date' out of his mouth as if he doesn't want to accept that Amelie is with Oliver… ew! She is here in a romantic capacity with Oliver! I can't accept that; she is supposed to be entirely hung up on Sam, not moving on with Oliver as if nothing happened!
"Ew," I say, looking across the room at the couple who don't seem particularly romantic – but when does Amelie ever show her feelings? Yet the way that she has let him move closer to her and she is wearing the same flower as he is… it makes me think that there could at least be the inkling of something there.
"My thoughts exactly," Myrnin agrees with me before we hear the caller person announcing that it is time for us to go into the ball. I get a rush of fear as I realise that they are all going to be looking at us entering the room: everyone but Amelie and Oliver is in there already and we are next. "Well, my little Claire, are you ready to be seen by the entire population of vampires?" he does nothing for my confidence as I begin to shake, his grip on my arm the only thing that keeps me standing.
"Don't say anything about it," I say through gritted teeth, not entirely sure why he is trying to make me nervous. "Otherwise I will puke all over you and I don't think you would want that," I continue, shuddering as I think about it.
"Don't you dare otherwise Bob may be making a little trip into your room," he threatens me back… EW! I hate Bob so much – why would he put him in my room? "Come on, Ms Danvers, we are ready to be announced."
"Lord Myrnin of Conwy with his attendant, Claire Danvers," the John person who was announcing at the welcome feast for Bishop says as we emerge at the top of the stairs, ready to walk down into the room. I feel as if I'm about to collapse as I walk down the stairs slowly, Myrnin keeping a slow pace for me, with all the eyes on me. People are sat at tables of four, Michael and Eve with Lucy and George, two vampires who aren't too bad: I take it that because we are 'guests of honour' with Myrnin's age and my bracelet, we're going to be sitting with Amelie and Oliver. Whoop!
Finally we make it to the bottom of the stairs and Myrnin leads me to the table in the centre of the room: yep, we're sitting with Amelie and Oliver. Every single person is looking at me and I get the sense that they are talking, but I can't hear them with my weak ears – something which they're probably banking on. Myrnin, however, looks rather smug at their words and I want to ask him… but there isn't time.
For, you see, Amelie and Oliver are being called and they are appearing at the top of the stairs. Everyone, thankfully, averts their attention to them and I get the sense that everyone is thinking that she is the most beautiful woman to have ever graced the earth: the effects of her dress and such are exacerbated at the top of the stairs, with the candlelight shining on them so perfectly. It makes the evening seem as if we are in the mid 1800s, so classy and perfect.
"Once again, you look stunning," Myrnin compliments Amelie as she sits down, Oliver moving her chair out as Myrnin did for me. As soon as she is seated, the rest of the room begin to chat quietly amongst themselves, as if her appearance was what allowed this to happen.
"I suppose you made yourself presentable," Amelie sniffs, evidently annoyed with Myrnin from whatever happened earlier when I was 'in the toilet'. "Now, let us eat without any arguing for, I, for one, cannot abide to listen to it," she orders sternly, looking at the men who sat at diagonals so that they were further apart with a fierce expression.
I cross my hands on my lap, feeling the bracelet on my arm digging in. it seems to cool down slightly but I don't know why; Amelie doesn't seem to be doing anything but if she is, she isn't making it obvious. I can't tell why I am suddenly feeling slightly too cold – maybe it's the hunger I have; those pizzas didn't exactly do that much for me.
The food is suddenly served to us and as I eat the tomato soup carefully, not wanting to spill it down myself: something tells me that Amelie wouldn't be happy about sitting with me if I behave like a child and spill my food down me. The cold feeling disappears slightly but I still feel that something is wrong somewhere, but what? I can absolutely positively tell that it isn't Amelie doing anything, for she is entirely focused on her soup and appearing like a lady. Appearances are everything to her and she couldn't do anything if it meant that she would succumb that image of perfection.
"Excuse me," I whisper, a sense of something being majorly wrong hitting me at this current moment in time. Amelie looks disapproving as I scrape my chair back and dash towards the toilet, feeling as if I am going to be sick, or collapse at the same time.
I slam my back against the door and dig my phone out of my little clutch to find Richard has rung me. "Hello?" I ask as he answers the phone when I ring him back. Something makes me think that there is something wrong with Shane, that he has done something stupid in his anger that I came here with Myrnin.
"Claire, it's Richard," he says unnecessarily. "I need you to tell Amelie to call me back because it is important," he continues, sounding harassed and more frazzled than I thought possible.
"Richard, she's having a party: she isn't going to want to be disturbed for work," I inform him, the tightening of my lungs showing that this is bad – it's nothing to do with Shane, I don't think, but there are many things in this world that could be bad.
"Oh, she will be bothered," he says grimly.
"What is it then?" I ask, not wanting to go and take the phone to Amelie as she will be pissed at me… and that isn't something which exactly lengthens your life in Morganville.
"Let's just say that if Amelie doesn't want a revolt on her hands," he says simply, indicating that there is something wrong.
"Wait, what do you mean, Richard, that there will be a revolt? The town is only just back from Bishop mere months ago – I doubt that even the people of this town will want to go back to mayhem this quickly!" I laugh, albeit slightly manically, but the frightening absence of noise on the other end suggests that he isn't kidding me.
"Claire, nine people have gone missing in the graveyard in the past week; I think that this warrants me to speak to Amelie," he properly snaps at me, the number almost making me drop the phone in shock.
That'll definitely be for Amelie then.
What did ya think then?
What do you think is up with the town? Who is the murderer?
Please review! :) if you do, I'll update soon & the new little twistie will be revealed... with claire/Myrnin moments soon? Only time will tell...
SO REVIEW!
Vicky xx
