Page 40 of My Big Fat Vampire Wedding
“Going well?” he asked with a little smirk. “Victor, nice to meet you.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?” Pandora asked, glancing around the room to see one of her cousins pour something thick and viscous into a glass.
“Mum took my mobile, so I couldn’t,” Dante said, shaking his head. “Tried to sneak out once or twice too. But you know Mum.”
“She looks so young,” Victor said, making Pandora stiffen.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Really good genes,” she said.
“And your father is …”
“Scary as hell?” Dante filled in for him. “I would say he’s a big softy underneath it all, but that would be a lie. He’s got a soft spot for Pandy, but that only means he’s gonna hate you all the more.”
“Not helping,” Pandora said, wincing.
“Pandy?” Victor asked, shooting Pandora a smile.
“Here, dear,” Ravenna said, shoving a goblet toward Victor. “You must be parched!”
Panicked, Pandora’s hand shot out, grabbing the goblet before Victor could lift it to his lips.
He shot her a scrunched-brow look as she sniffed the liquid.
But it was wine.
“Just wine,” she said on an exhale.
“What else would it be, dear?” Ravenna asked, looking at Pandora like she was the crazy one.
“Thank you,” Victor said, pulling his glass back and taking a polite sip.
It was virtually impossible for vampires to get drunk. But Pandora was moments away from testing that theory.
“Of course, my dear. Dinner should be ready shortly,” she said, making Pandora’s stomach sink.
“Dinner?” she asked, looking at Dante. “Please tell me they ordered in.”
“Afraid not,” he said, giving her a pained look she didn’t quite understand.
“What’s the problem?” Victor asked, looking between the two of them.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just … no one in my family is a good cook. We’re, er, cursed that way, I guess. So maybe just … take a couple of small, polite bites.”
Dante nodded. “Or spit it discreetly into your napkin.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Victor said.
That was where he was wrong.
As he would find out after a few more tense introductions, mostly only on Pandora’s part. Victor seemed to be handling things effortlessly. Even occasionally shooting her reassuring smiles.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked as everyone started to file into the dining room.
“Sure,” she asked, instantly on edge.
“Your family … the way they dress and speak …”
“Oh!” she said, mind racing. “They’re, you know, part of a historical reenactment society. They really get into character sometimes. It’s hard for them to, well, turn it off. Uncle Reginald especially,” she added, glad to plant seeds of doubt for when Uncle Reggie eventually said something that wouldn’t make any sense. “He’s kind of a … What do they call them? When an actor really commits to a part?”
