Page 48 of Foes & Cons
“Charming,” I grumble, shuffling along.
We watch a make-up artist pull a werewolf mask over the head of a woman who is absolutely thrilled at the prospect of seeing through the eyes of a lycanthrope. Roxy looks at me.
“Have you seen Fake McKinley since you snapped at him at the quiz?”
“I didn’tsnap.” Roxy raises an eyebrow, and I sigh. “Fine. But he didn’t answer a single question.”
“Excuse me, but you hissed at him every time he tried to contribute,” she says, then sticks out her bottom lip. “His poor, handsome, chiselled face was so sad, Eliza – so, so sad.”
“Don’t,” I say, feeling bad for snapping. Roxy’s used toit, but Fake McKinley isn’t. “I should probably make sure he’s OK.”
“You should probably apologise to Toby as well then. I think he thought you were possessed.”
“Toby will be OK; he has his mum and he’s not on my team, anyway,” I say, shrugging. “Fake McKinley is all alone, Roxy. He has nobody else here, but more importantly he’s . . .”
I do a chef’s kiss and Roxy nods in agreement.
“. . . sosymmetrical,” I say, still moved by the symmetry. “His face is justperfection.”
“Resurrecting your DVS fan club, are you?”
My stomach plummets right into the toes of my Docs as Charlie Chamberlain saunters up to us. Where did he come from? Does he hover in the shadows, like Death?
“Actually, we never closed it, for your information,” I say, pleased with myself.
“She’s talking about her new boyfriend,” says Roxy, slinging an arm around me.
“Haha,” I say.
“You have a boyfriend?” asks Vivian as she joins us, then she frowns at Charlie Chamberlain. “Ew. Why are you doing an annoying throat-clearing thing? It’s gross.”
“I’m not,” he says, clearing his throat.
“Are we talking about that guy in the werewolf costume?” asks Vivian, her eyebrow arching. Roxy nods. “My, my. He is quite the hottie, bitches.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I clarify. “He’s just a guy.”
I catch Charlie Chamberlain’s eye and he blinks triple time then looks away quickly.
“WHERE IS IT?!”
Surprised, I fall into Roxy, my hands up ready to fight the angry, if quite small, vampire who has just leapt from a stool on the other side of the room and headed straight for my jugular. At least, I think that’s what’s happening.
“Where’s what?” I manage, looking around in case I’m part of a flash mob or something.
“The last chapter!” says the vampire, her voice desperate and menacing, and also kind of like . . .
“Sadie?” I say, frowning. “Is that you?”
“Duh.”
Vampire Sadie folds her arms and taps a foot, her pre-tween stance in contrast with the pointy fangs and wrinkly forehead. She doesn’t take her blood-red eyes from me as she shrugs her brother’s hand from her shoulder.
“She’s in a mood,” he says.
“I’m not in amood,” she snaps, then waves her phone in his face. “I just have to know what happens. Ineedto know.”
We take a step back in case her head starts spinning; we’ve never witnessed her rage before.
