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Love Bites

Chp. Fifteen

I don’t think I’d been watching TV very long when other people began showing up. Pale skinned entities with varying styles and accents, arriving with massive amounts of luggage Oliver kindly brought upstairs for them. I took a back stair case in hopes of locking myself in my room, away from them, then I remembered Oliver had shattered the door so I went to his room. I pulled his laptop out from under his bed when something knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” I called.

“Valerie,” my sister said, barging in without waiting for the door to open. “Are you staying in here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you staying in here?” Valerie questioned. “Since your door’s all but off its hinges, are you going to stay in here?” I shrugged and she shook her head. “Well, I’m putting red brick dust at everyone’s door,” she continued. “That way you, me, and Nik are all safe from these people.”

I nodded, glad she thought that far ahead. I had recognized the excessive number of vampires coming in and out but Valerie had enough sense to take precautions. “What if Oliver wants you to vacuum it up, though?” I asked.

Valerie made a face before lifting up a throw rug right outside Oliver’s bedroom door. “He’ll have to deal with it,” she stated, sprinkling a scarlet red dust that ran across the length of the door. “He’ll understand. He might even be okay with it since brick dust is supposed to keep people who want to hurt you out. As the only humans here, I think we’re entitled to what little protection we can get.”

“You have a point.”

Valerie laughed as she sat the rug back down just in time for Oliver to walk in and overdramatically plop down in a chair. I felt awkward with Oliver. After the dumb stuff I did last night, there really wasn’t a way to recover from that. “I don’t want to cook for these people tonight,” Oliver whined, putting a hand over his face. “We’re slipping out around five. Kells is going to meet us and bring us to a pub on Bourbon. Got that?”

I looked to Valerie who looked back to me. “Are you talking to us?” she questioned.

Oliver sat up, wide eyed and frustrated. “Is there anyone else in here?” he demanded irritably. “Of course I’m talking to you! I want you both ready by five. We’re going to take the servants’ stairs and sneak around the side of the house to the car.”

“Is anyone else supposed to be coming today?” I asked.

He shook his head, closing his eyes again like he was tired. “No, just all those people. It’s fine. The party’s soon. They’ll all be gone. It’ll be nice and quiet again-well, minus you three. I’ll kick Andrew out. My house will be a peaceful oasis again.”

“Well, it’s about four. We should get ready now,” Valerie suggested.

“You’re such a girl. It takes you that long to get ready?”

“By the time I’ve showered and done my hair and put on my make up, yes,” Valerie retorted, pantomiming counting on her fingers. She spun on her heel, leaving me and Oliver alone in the room together.

“I guess a shower does sound good,” Oliver murmured. “Thorne, would you like one?”

“Sure.” The idea of washing off last night sounded pretty nice. I walked into the bathroom, careful to be sure he wouldn’t follow me for some stupid reason he would deem necessary and was happy to see that it was relatively similar to the one in my room. Oliver’s was a bit fancier but then again, this was the master suite and the bedroom he spent all of his time in. I tried making my shower quick but failed miserably when I began scrubbing my skin raw with the intricate designer soaps Oliver had. When I finally got out and walked back into the main room, Oliver welcomed me with a short black dress and flats.

“I’m not being caught out in public with sloppily dressed humans,” he grunted before locking himself into the bathroom. I got dressed and tried doing something with my hair even though I had no idea how to do it to begin with. When Oliver came out, he groaned. “Thorne, what are you doing to your head?” he questioned.

I tried not to stare at the towel hanging loosely at his hips or his preserved inked flesh. Instead, I tried focusing on making my hands brush my hair into a bun. “I don’t know. You said you didn’t want me to look sloppy so I’m trying to-“

“Give the brush here.” I awkwardly handed Oliver the brush I was using before he started pulling my hair back. “Don’t you know how to do a bun?” Oliver asked.

“Well…no.”

“Then I suspect you can’t do a French twist either, huh?”

“What’s that?” I winced as he shoved a bobby pin into my scalp, then another, and yet another.

“It’s like a pony tail, only you twist it around to hide the tail. It’s a sort of mature look and I think it looks less bizarre than that knot you were trying to tie into your hair.”

“It was supposed to be a bun,” I pouted. Oliver shrugged and pulled away, letting me look at his work in the bathroom while he got dressed. I didn’t know when he found the time to do hair but I didn’t argue that it looked nice. He came into the bathroom, dressed in a white v-neck with clean black skinnys.

“I want your pretty lips in red!” Oliver sang, tossing me a tube. He stared, waiting for me to put on what was assumably lipstick but instead I laughed.

“Do I even want to know why you have this?” I giggled. “What’s a 600 year old man doing with bright red lipstick?”

“Practicing my drag, now put it on,” he retorted sarcastically. I had never worn a lot of lipstick. Maybe chapstick and eyeliner but never legitimate lipstick so I started to wonder. Does lipstick work the way it does in the movies? Oliver watched me put it on, at one point telling me to open my mouth and trace everything so it was all red. After taking his advice, I realized it looked better and more finished than when I had just tried putting it on like lip balm. Without warning, I reached up and planted a big fat kiss on Oliver’s cheek.

“Thorne, God dammit, you trollop!” Oliver wailed. I laughed, proud of the bright red stain on his face. “Why would you do that?!”

“I’m not a doll for you to dress up, Oliver,” I pointed out. “So you get to share.”

“Sharing isn’t caring!” He grabbed a washcloth and began rubbing little circles over his cheek while I snuck downstairs where Nikki and Valerie were with Andy.

“I-Thorne,” Andy whispered. “Wow.”

“What?”

Andy gripped my hand and grinned. “Just…wow,” he repeated. “You look nice.”

“It’s just a dress,” I shrugged, swirling the skirt a little. “It was Oliver’s idea.”

“Well, Oliver likes the classic looks,” Andy murmured, I guess referring to the almost 50’s uptown feel to the dress.

“Are you going out with us tonight?” I asked, hoping to redirect the focus. He looked at me funny before nodding.

“Yeah, uh, Kellin sent me a text a little while ago. You can ride in the Impala with me!”

“Ballsack, for the love of God,” growled Oliver, marching downstairs. “You have this annoying habit of forgetting that Thorne’s mine.”

“Oliver, she’s not an object. Stop trying to claim her,” Andy snapped. I rolled my eyes before nudging Nikki and Valerie.

“This is dumb,” I whispered. “Let’s go before they carry this outside with us.” While the vampire and the slayer continued their back and forth argument, I snuck outside with my siblings and climbed into Nikki’s car.

“You know, I really don’t like being here with all these flesh eaters,” Nikki admitted, smashing his foot into the gas pedal. “It’s unsettling.”

“Well, it’s not like we can go anywhere else,” I pointed out.

“Kellin’s a vampire right? Why don’t we stay with him?”

“Kellin’s a med student in a tiny dorm room,” Valerie pointed out.

“So Oliver’s our best bet,” I added. “And with Andy there, they’ll keep each other in check.”

“They just want to kill each other,” Nikki uttered. “They could care less if we live or die. We’re just a convenient excuse to keep the inevitable from happening right now.”

“What do you mean?” Valerie questioned.

Nikki shrugged in his seat and scoffed. “Think about it, Val. Oliver’s an old man who’s out of practice. Andy’s younger than him by 400 years and does this stuff daily. Andy’s going to take him out. We’re only there because it’s one of those winner takes all matches.”

“Andy wouldn’t beat Oliver,” she argued. “He might be older but that makes him smarter. Plus, he watches Andy. He knows all of his weak spots.”

“Andy could sooo take Oliver.”

“No. You’re stupid. Oliver’s got a home field advantage.”

“Why do you think Andy’s spent so much time wandering around today? He’s trying to learn the house.”

I threw my head back on the headrest in the back seat and felt disgusted. Who cares who would win? My concern was just getting out of it alive. I didn’t care if Oliver took out one of America’s best vampire slayers. I didn’t care if Andy inherited Oliver’s entire estate and killed one of the world’s most infamous vampires. I just wanted to get out alive and make sure both my older siblings did as well.