I look up at him.
“You look at my Insta?”
His eyes widen a little and he scratches the back of his head, then shrugs.
“Your reels sometimes come up if you search forJuliana full costume,” he says with a little side smile.
“Perve,” I joke.
“It’s to appreciate her sword play and nothing else.” I check my phone. No time and no calls from Roxy. “You can do it, Eliza – you’ll nail it. You look awesome on those reels, for real. I mean, really, you do.”
I shrug. “It’s all just special effects though.”
“Youarethe special effects,” he says, his face serious.
We blink at each other, uncertain whether he’s actually justsaid those words.
“What?” I say, stepping back towards him.
He shakes his head.
“I . . . I just mean you can do it. You’ve done it a ton of times, with and without the cloak. Or cape. You’ll be fine. You better go.”
I nod. I feel like I’ve just stepped out of a dream and my body wants back into the floaty vibes and the high-voltage touching, but it’s too confused to find its way there again. He smiles at me for a moment, a smile from another life, then turns away and lets the door close so I’m standing alone in the hallway.
That was interesting.Veryinteresting.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ILLIAS (HEAD VAMPIRE)
I warn you, girl. You do as he says, and I will become more powerful than you could possibly imagine.
LILA MURPHY
I have a terrible imagination. (long pause) Let’s see what happens.
Vampire Falls. Season one, episode twelve – “Masquerade Brawl”
I’ve always felt indifferent about Abercrombie and Fitch, but right now I couldn’t be more grateful for their extensive hoodie line. I rush through the lobby, Charlie Chamberlain’s grey hoodie pulled around me like a dressing gown, so my costume isn’t on display for the entire convention. I can’t deal with the parallel universe I was in just now. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Maybe.
People mill around the foyer, whooping when their friends emerge from the lifts in lovingly created costumes. Usually, I’d be in heaven chatting to people dressed as Lila or Nightmare Vampire Number Three. I love it. I love, love, love it, but right now, if I interact with anyone I will hurl.
I turn down the corridor to the back entrance of the main hall, into the stage area. Two stewards are on the door and I nod as I walk past them, but one puts their hand up.
“Lanyard?”
I instinctively reach for it but it’s not around my neck. It must be back in the room. With my room key. And my cape. I let out a little whimper.
“I . . .”
“Sorry, ladies.” We all look round as Vivian sidles up to us, waving her (damn) lanyard around for the stewards. “Almost didn’t make it. Was getting my costume just . . .”
She does a chef’s kiss with one hand, and a hair flip with the other. She looks like an advanced version of Vivian, like she’s downloaded an update that automatically gets sent to supermodel-type people. She’s wearing a Dalmatian-print onesie over her costume, and I’m surprised (and relieved) she’s got trainers on so only towers above me in the standard, mortal kind of way. She looks down at me, smiling.
“Who are you?” she says, tugging one of the toggles on the hoodie. “Kip the Bartender?”
“Who are you?” I say, snatching my toggle. “Cruella de Vil?”
