Page 111 of Your Coffin or Mine
“You are such an idiot,” Doyle says.
“I beg your pardon?”
Jekyll laughs. “The internet is a wonderful place, Vlad.”
“You think I wouldn’t have done some snooping when I found out you made anInstagramaccount?” Frank asks incredulously, and I open my mouth to respond. “Really, Vlad? You? On Instagram? I thought it was a prank from Doyle until I saw you going viral on your human’s profile. I knew something was up straight away,” Frank says, crossing his arms and tipping his chin superiorly.
Jekyll snaps his fingers. “That one bird—what was her name? Agatha? Alicia?” He shakes his head. “Actually, I think both of those were mine. Umm, Angel. That’s the one.”
“Angelique?” Doyle supplies, obviously stunned.
He snaps his fingers again and nods. “Yes, that one was a spitfire,” Jekyll says, then whistles for emphasis.
“You knew Angelique?” Doyle asks.
“I’m pretty sure I knew her a few times,” Jekyll says, rubbing his chin in thought.
“She’s the one who put him in iron, remember? He’d been missing so long even Frank was forced to come and help,” Doyle says with a low laugh.
I shake my head. “Is it really such a great mystery as to why I don’t open my home to vagrants? Fuck all of you. Months of being held and locked in a cage by some enraged woman hell-bent on having immortality, and what do I get? You lot sharing it like it’s an old bedtime story.”
“Whatever happened to Angelique, anyway?” Jekyll asks.
I growl. “She married some farmer in the Americas.”
Growing bored with standing idle, Jekyll starts to explore, weaving between the pews. He picks up random books left insidethe old place from god knows when before tossing them to the floor. No one stops him, as it’s never a good idea to get in the way of his movements.
“Hey, I think I left my favorite jacket here,” he says to himself, and I shake my head.
He lights a match, and the fireplace comes to life. Of course he starts a fire even though no one here needs it.Pyromaniac.At least it’s contained this time.
“Do you mind?” I grumble, waving at the flames.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he says cheekily.
I eye the floor where Jekyll has created a pile of bibles and the like. I have had enough of this. “I’m afraid I must ask you to leave. We can even have one of your little tea parties soon, my treat of course,” I say, clapping my hands once. “But do piss off.”
I turn around to head to the skewed double doors, intent on heading back to Aubrey, images of our extended vacation around the world bouncing around in my mind.
“Oh, and what were we to do exactly? Knock on the door and ask to come in?” Frank says derisively.
“No, absolutely not, and I’ll tell you why. This is my home, not some supernatural gathering place,” I snap, the need to get back to Aubrey itching just beneath my skin, making me more agitated by the second.
“You know, I think he’s gotten grouchier with time. We assumed you would want to see us after so long, Vlad,” Jekyll says, his tone hurt and whiney. A complete lie. “I suppose you think yourself too lofty now?”
“You assumed incorrectly. I just have no desire to relive New Orleans.”
“That wasn’t so bad,” Jekyll says. “Odette was...” He purses his lips and smacks them obnoxiously.
No one can resist Odette. I glance at Frankenstein, who looks like he wishes to pummel Jekyll for mentioning her. Well,mostcan’t resist Odette. The witch queen herself is like a siren to the supernatural, all except for Frank.
My brow lifts. “She made us start the fire of London. Well, you lot, mainly.”
“Okay, I’ll admit that got out of hand, but Frank was holding the lantern. That wasn’tmyfault,” Jekyll says, placing his hand over his heart. He bats his eyes, like he thinks any of us would find that tasteful.
A muscle ticks in Frank’s jaw and his eyes darken as if shadows line his irises. “You told me to hold it.”
Jekyll pats Frankenstein’s chest, practically reaching above his head to do it, although Jekyll is six foot himself. “Let it go, man.”
