Page 54 of You’re So Vein

Just then, the doorbell rings. My mother answers it and ushers in Alaric and Gideon. When Alaric introduces himself, she breaks into what is clearly a well-rehearsed spiel about how he doesn’t want to live in a draughty castle when he could get a wonderful modern brick home ten miles closer to the village.

“Alaric,” Kael booms across the room. “We meet again. I hope you’ve brought your sword, for I seek retribution.”

“There will be no retribution on my nice clean carpets,” Winnie calls from the hallway, where she’s stashing the hoover.

“Just look at these oak floors!” Mamma waves a pamphlet in Alaric’s face.

“Er.” Alaric stares between Kael and my mother, before drifting towards the Celtic warrior, obviously deciding to confront the lesser of two terrifying options.

I hiss at Augustin. “Durant, control your vampires.”

He fixes me with that classic Augustin glare. “You were the one who insisted you wanted to remain in the race. You wanted to be a vampire ‘ally’. Deal with your allies yourself.”

There’s the old Augustin. I must’ve been imagining everything before. I knew his marriage resume wasn’t serious.

“If Kael and Alaric clash swords and break Papa’s garden gnomes, it’s on your head. Can you at least get my mother away from Gideon before she convinces him to let her sell vampire houses?” I mutter out of the corner of my mouth.

Augustin’s mouth snaps open, as if he intends to argue, but then he touches his hand to his stomach as if he has food poisoning. He sighs and trudges off to deal with the chaos he has wrought.

I turn towards the crowd gathered in the lounge, debating which group to approach first. Do I woo the shopkeepers with my plans for a new November festival (which I still have no theme for), or do I win over the Naughty Knitting Club with my improvements to the community hall booking system—

“Ah, the ravishing Ms Komal, I’ve been hoping to get you alone.” Dante di Sangro appears in front of me, as if he materialised from thin air. I take a step back. “I wanted to say, do not worry about my colleagues. Upyr who live year-round within the confines of their court rarely know how to behave in front of humans. It may surprise you to know that Kael has never seen Love Island, and this is the first I’ve heard of Irene leaving her archive for a century.”

“As long as they don’t stab or bite anyone, I’m fine with a little eccentric behaviour,” I say. “But is there something between you and Durant? I got a distinct vibe, and he doesn’t tell me anything.”

I know I shouldn’t pry, but I can’t help it.

Dante waves his hand dismissively, as if it doesn’t matter, but I catch a faux brightness in his voice when he says, “Augustin and I go way back. We used to be… friends, but it all fell spectacularly apart.”

He says friends like it has a story. But I’m barely listening. From across the room, I watch Augustin separate my mother from Gideon. Although… oh gods, I thought he’d go off with Gideon, but my mother has pulled him into the corner with Priya and Sunita, and now… is that a photo album?

Please, no.

“—ritual involves completing a simple challenge set by each of us. No human has survived it, but I’m sure a woman of such vigour will have no trouble—”

I don’t hear a word Dante says. Augustin catches my eye. I make a beckoning motion. He shakes his head, and I catch the faintest tug of a smile at the corner of his lip as he leans in for a closer look at the photo album. All three women talk at once, jabbing at the pictures as they regale him with tales of people he’ll never meet. A nicer person would rescue him, but I’m not that nice. I turn back in time to see Dante pluck a tiny lemon tart from one of the trays on the table.

“What are you doing?” I hiss. “It’s human food. Won’t it make you ill?”

“Quite right, but I don’t plan on eating this. I’m already enjoying a visual and olfactory feast.” Dante studies the tart closely. “Is this a sweet or a tiny hat? How is such artistry achieved with pastry? I am enraptured. You must introduce me to the chef.”

Any excuse to escape my mother, who is trying to beckon me over to tell some embarrassing family story. “Sure thing. Come with me. Celeste? Where are you?”

I find her in the kitchen, of course, pulling trays of her homemade sausage rolls from the oven. She wipes her hands on her apron and straightens, but jumps when she sees Dante, banging her knee on the oven door.

Celeste rubs her knee, wincing. “Komal, is everything okay?”

“Everything is amazing.” Dante thrusts the lemon tart under her nose. “My darling, I hear you are the baker of these delectable looking treats. And Alaric informs me that you’re catering the wedding of the century. Vampire and human fare will be an interesting culinary challenge.”

“I’ll manage. That’s if Alaric and Winnie are even allowed to get married.” Celeste folds her arms and glares at the vampire.

“That’s what I’m here to figure out.” Dante grins. “Now, I wondered if I might be able to pick your brain – professionally, not out of hunger, I assure you. I’ve been pursuing a personal project over the last few decades: giving vampires the ability to enjoy food. With my innovations and your culinary skills, we can make something remarkable happen. I wondered if you might be interested in—”

“Um… I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Celeste backs away, scratching the back of her neck. “Sorry.”

“Are you sure? I could show you what I’ve done so far and—” Dante’s smile freezes as Celeste races for the door. “Ah, well, that’s a shame.”

“I thought she’d be into the idea, I’m sorry.” My cheeks flush with heat. I’m such an idiot. Of course Celeste wouldn’t want to work closely with a vampire. She can’t risk Dante finding out that she’s a werewolf.