Real Vampires Take No Prisoners (Real Vampires Don't Sparkle Book 3) by Amy Fecteau

Author:Amy Fecteau [Fecteau, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781620078013
Publisher: Curiosity Quills Press
Published: 2017-05-17T22:00:00+00:00

Matheus stood in front of the assembled group, an overwhelming sense of déjà vu blocking out his hastily planned speech. Not that he’d written the Gettysburg Address or anything, but he needed something. A phrase to hang onto, maybe even building into an entire sentence. Matheus looked over the expectant faces, and sighed. He’d failed his public speaking course at Bayhill for a reason.

The second time, at least. The first time involved an unfortunate accident, and Matheus had no idea how that three-day-old mackerel ended up in his professor’s car.

Okay, he did know. But in his defense, he was eighteen, fresh out of rehab, and really anything that didn’t involve something going up his nose counted as acceptable behavior. Looking back, he wasn’t sure that the fish had been the problem. His professor might have objected more to Matheus carving “fuck you” in the shiny new paint job of his 1970 Camaro. A lot of therapy had gone into turning Matheus into the sangfroid person he was today. For a given value of sangfroid, of course.

In the long run, neither the fish nor the keying made a difference. Matheus passed the second time around, but that didn’t make a difference either. Here he stood with a public speaking opportunity, and his brain had snuck out for a quick smoke.

“Matheus,” Alistair whispered, leaning in. He stood next to him, clipboard at the ready. Matheus had no idea how Alistair managed to acquire a clipboard, when he himself didn’t even have a pair of shoes. Undeath turned out to be as unfair as life. “Say something already.”

“Umm,” said Matheus. “Hello.”

From the front, Heaven smiled and nodded encouragingly. She had missed her calling as a kindergarten teacher. Then again, he didn’t see many kindergarten teachers with blood-soaked feet and fangs to shame a rattlesnake.

“Erm,” said Matheus, because it seemed too soon to say “umm” again. “So…”

A hand pressed against the small of his back, a solid presence, steadying his nerves. Quin didn’t move or speak, didn’t touch Matheus apart from that one firm hand, but the physical connection alone offered more comfort than an entire army of hugs and brandies. The claim. He’d have to get used to that unspoken feeling of protection from Quin as a fact of life. Or unlife. Next to him, Alistair made a soft noise, barely audible to Matheus, let alone anyone else in the room. Matheus glanced at him, catching a glimpse of an odd expression before Alistair looked away.

“Okay,” said Matheus. “Okay. Right.” He pushed the worrying image of Alistair out of the way. “Okay, so… so, here’s the thing. I’m going after Apollonia. I mean, for good.”

Tension rippled across the room. People moved closer together, exchanging looks with their neighbors, making soft exclamations to each other. Alistair stiffened, clutching his clipboard to his chest. Freddie watched him, waiting for the moment Alistair needed him, something Matheus didn’t have in him. Rescue Alistair from an exploding building, not a problem. From his worries and fears? Not even a little.

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