Surprise, it’s me!
Funerals were just the worst. First there was the speeches, the drab clothing, the tasteless platters of sandwiches and sweets arranged on floral plates. There were inevitably small piles of brochures, each containing poems and a little picture. Emery had avoided modern funerals for those reasons alone
Emery took her seat at the back, tucked in the corner of the room, as other people filtered in. Some sobbed in white handkerchiefs, others quiet beneath black lace veils or in finely pressed clothes, blank faced.
I swear to every god that if there isn’t some booze at the end of this I’m going to set some shit on fire. She crossed her arms, drumming her fingers against her arm. This is the last time I agree to come to these.
A woman sat down next to her, brightly clad in neon pink and green. Even her hair, a blinding shade of blue, was garishly bright. She, like Emery, looked like she belonged somewhere else.
“Well, at least I’m not the only idiot suckered into coming here,” she drawled. “Want to set the place on fire?”
Emery glanced at her, one brow lifted. “Actual fire?”
“Yes, the burning type. I’m bored. You look bored.” She held out a hand. Emery noted that her nails were manicured, each nail painted bright pink and purple. She stared at for a second before she took it. “I’m Lida Delaney.”
“Emery.” Lida’s name registered after a second to Emery, making her frown, brow lowering, scrunching. “Wait, you’re-“
“Yep.” Lida tilted to her head to the side. “Patch never mentioned anyone called Emery.”
“I like my privacy,” said Emery simply. “He never mentioned you.”
Lida winked. “I like my privacy too. It’s just I’m quite curious. So, what are you? It’s sunny outside, so you’re not a vampire. Unless that whole sunlight thing is bullshit, which is probably true. They’re very shifty, you know? You can’t be a werewolf. You’re moody enough, to be sure, got that glowering look all down but you’re here by yourself. Guess you could be a lone wolf but they’re rare and they hate crowds. Besides, Patch doesn’t like wolves. Guess I’d say a witch but that doesn’t feel right either.”
The last of the guests were taking their seats, so the ceremony was about to start. Emery was grateful. She didn’t like strangers, talking to them even less. Plus, this one was noisy. Not annoying, not yet. Emery turned fully in her seat, ignoring the querying look from Lida, feeling not inclined in any way to indulge her curiosity. The sooner the ceremony was over the sooner she could get the hell out there, maybe feed on a few of these depressed suckers on her way out. She’d see how the ceremony went before she made her decision.
When the preacher stepped up Emery tuned out. She paid even less attention when the guests started to come out, one by one, mostly sobbing messes, clutching at crinkled pieces of paper. Some paper fell to the ground, crumbled, like snow dusting the ground behind them.
When the last one came up, made her weepy speech, it occurred to Emery that she didn’t know any of these people. Patch had mentioned he’d settled down in the past few years but it seemed a little bit ridiculous. The warmonger and torturer of Europe, a bloody thirsty vampire, had become…domestic. With these people, for some odd reason.
She sighed, glanced at her watch when there was a sudden thump. Her gaze snapped up, honed in on the casket where the sound had come from.
No. Fucking. Way.
Anger blossomed in her chest, turning her cheeks red.
The knock again, a hush fell over the room. Another knock. Someone started to cry in alarm. Confusion came with whispers, hushed between partners. At the front a child started to cry, bordering on a shrill scream. The mother tried to comfort it but they were scared, too.
Suddenly, the casket lid exploded off, shooting up, hitting the ceiling with a deafening bang. People jumped, screamed. Some ran for the exit; others were frozen in terror. Lida remained in her seat, smiling that creepy smile of hers.
Then, none other than the star of this whole fiasco, sat up from his casket, grinning wickedly from ear to ear. The debonair gentleman vampire, with slick black hair and a jawline to cut, was too handsome for his own good.
Emery stood up, scowling.
“Are you kidding me?” Emery nearly shouted.
The silence took over again, everyone frozen. No. Not naturally frozen. Magically frozen. Some were stopped mid-attempt to vacate their seat. Lida dropped her hand and slid out from the booth.
Patch saw her, waved. “Surprise, it’s me!”
“You faked your own death. Why the hell would you do that?” Emery got out of her seat and moved to the aisle. “You interrupted my holiday on my island for what exactly?”
He climbed out of his casket and dusted his pristine suit off, looking absurd in the finery. Really, he looked odd without blood splattered on him. When he looked up, he was smiling again.
“Well, for a good reason, of course. I had to end all of this fun and I needed both you and Lida to help me. I’ve got a very important job, you see.”
Emery groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt a headache coming on and a flash of bad memories. Good memories for Patch, probably. Who knew with him anyway?
“Oh hell.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. Just a little saving the world from the apocalypse. It’ll be fun!”
ns 15.158.61.8da2
