Page 48 of Your Coffin or Mine
“Right? Crazy, huh?!”
I’ve been exploring the castle for about an hour now, avoiding Vlad, or at least giving myself some time away to think, but I keep running into him some way or another. I look back up at the portrait, at the grumpy, stern look on the man’s face—Vlad’s face.Well, kind of. He’s wearing an ugly hat, looks gaunt, and has a mustache.
“Reverse image search says that guy is Vlad Tepesh the Impaler, inspiration for Dracula. Well, his ancestor is still out there impaling women, isn’t he? Ohhh, what if you’re banging a vampire?!”
Shaking my head, I flip the camera back. “Bernadette, you are a child.”
Her bright-red curls—the same that helped the name Burnie stick—bounce as she does the same in her seat, her pale round cheeks reddening with laughter. She really is as fiery as her hair.
“Like you aren’t thinking it. Vampires are hot. I mean, look at him, for fuck’s sake. I’d bang his grandaddy too. I vant to zuk your cock, blah blah blah.” Pretty green eyes cross on the last blah, her pierced tongue lolling from her mouth, and I snort.
“I feel like the amount of times I’ve asked myself why I still talk to you grows daily.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “You wouldn’t know what to do without me. Anyway, fun fact—apparently Vlad the Impaler liked to put heads on spikes in his front yard, and your new man... I mean, he really does look like him, huh?”
I grin at the awe in her voice. “Trust me. This one is not a vamp. I practically bled all over him, and all he did was hump me into the ground.”
She goes quiet on the other end before squealing, “Yassssssss! Wait, does his peen glitter?”
“Bahahahahaha! Of course you’re not worried about me bleeding. I was running, fell down and cut myself, and all you care about is if the peen glitters in the sun.”
“What did I tell you about running?”
I stare at her deadpan. “Only that you never do it.”
She looks sheepish for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, that’s fair. So you fell and then what?” She leans into the camera, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively.
I sigh. “No, he didn’t do me right there in the dirt. But it was close. He did carry me back to the castle, like out of a freaking fairytale.”
“Awwwww.” Her emerald eyes sparkle. “You really like him, huh?”
“I do, but it’s crazy here, you know? It’s not just Vlad—it’s Doyle, his friend. Then there’s the insane castle and thequaint little village. It’s just the whole vibe here is different from anywhere I’ve ever been.”
She perks up at the thought of more fine man meat. “Wait, who’s Doyle?”
I knew that would get her attention and I grin. “He’s sort of like the butler, the one with the whole Gomez Addams vibe.”
“So the servant dude is as hot as this guy?” She nods as if impressed. “Sounds like a good time to make a man sandwich. Side note, you haven’t mentioned the dipshit once, so I love Vlad already.”
“Honestly, they could probably sell sin to nuns. Next time, you and Clara should come.”
“Uh, no. Definitely not. I’m trying to get away from my family, not closer.”
A pillow enters the left of my screen and smacks her against the face, making me laugh. She comes back into view while fixing her glasses.
“See? This is why we can’t have nice things,” Bernadette says. “Alright. Call me later.”
We hang up and I look around a bit longer, tensing when a strange scraping sound echoes. I pull my earbuds out, shoving them into my pocket to listen.
“Hello?”
“There you are.”
I whirl around, inhaling my scream. “Ugh, I am sick of you guys creeping up on me.”
Doyle raises a brow and looks down the hall over my shoulder. “The east wing is closed to guests. I know Vlad told you, so I was just wondering...”
My gaze follows his, and I notice it is actually dimly lit now that I think about it. It first drew my curiosity because it’s not renovated. “This is the east wing?”
