Page 16 of My Big Fat Vampire Wedding

“S he didn’t!” Lucy gasped in Pandora’s ear.

Shortly after Elias had joined the table, he’d proceeded to compliment everything, from the room to the food, charming everyone with an ease that Pandora had both admired and hated in equal measure.

Since he also seemed to be making Victor uncomfortable, Pandora had offered to go get more wine in the kitchen.

And had promptly grabbed her mobile and called her best friend to tell her what her mother had done.

“She did,” Pandora said, checking the labels of the bottles of wine. “And now Victor seems tense and broody, while Elias just lays the charm on thick. My father is half in love with him already. Mostly because he’s a brilliant businessman and can ‘take care of’ me.”

“You’re about to be an heiress. You don’t need to be taken care of.”

“I know, right?” she said, pulling three bottles of wine to the center of the island to bring back into the dining room.

“What are you going to do? Confront your mum?”

“Not in front of everyone. But I can’t just let her think this is OK.”

“Darling, are you hiding away?” Ophelia called out.

“I have to go,” Pandora whispered to Lucy.

“Call me later! And get me a picture of the hottie.”

Pandora quickly tucked her mobile back into her handbag as her mother’s heels clicked into the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, Elias was right behind her.

“Yes, my love?” Ophelia looked back toward the dining room, as if hearing her husband call for her. But Pandora knew her game. “Elias, can you help Pandora with the wine?”

“Of course,” Elias said, even giving Ophelia a proper little bow.

“Happy engagement,” Elias said, his gaze slipping to Pandora’s hand. “The human?” he asked.

“Obviously,” Pandora replied.

“Not your mother’s first choice for you, I take it.” Elias reached for the corkscrew and started to open the first bottle of wine.

Pandora gave him a tight nod as she passed him the next bottle to open.

It was right then that she smelled vanilla, leather, and cinnamon wafting toward her, the scent immediately comforting.

“Dante sent me in here,” Victor said, giving Elias a hard look.

Victor made his way to Pandora’s side, making the two of them a united front against the interloper.

“Your cousin Jasper was trying to tell me about some bar that I supposedly walk past every day,” he continued. “But I swear there’s nothing there …”

Pandora shared a look with Elias, knowing what Jasper was likely referencing. A vampire club. The kind of place that was glamoured so humans couldn’t see it.

“Jasper’s probably drunk,” Pandora said, shrugging it off. “You didn’t have to choke down too much of that food, I hope.”

“No.” Victor winced a bit. “But no one is really eating,” he added with a casual shrug. “Not even Ravenna.”

“I’m so sorry about that,” Pandora said. “My family has really … unusual tastes.”

Across from her, Elias’s lips twitched.

Victor shrugged that off. “All families have their food quirks. My mother refuses to ever use garlic in her cooking.”

At least Pandora wouldn’t die if she ate at Victor’s parents’ house.

“That’s handy,” Elias said, making Victor’s brows pinch.

“How do you figure?” he asked.

“Oh, because of Pandora’s garlic allergy, of course,” Elias said.

Victor looked confused by that, likely mentally flicking through all of the questions they’d shared, trying to figure out if he’d forgotten something that important. “Of course.”

Pandora couldn’t figure out Elias’s motivation for that comment. Was he trying to make it sound like he knew her better than Victor did? Or was he simply trying to save Pandora from an extremely uncomfortable – if not fatal – meal?

“I have the same allergy,” Elias said. “In fact, isn’t it … genetic for you, Pandora?”

“Oh, er, yes, actually,” she said. “I think I forgot to mention that.” She looked at Victor. “We’re all allergic to garlic. Weird, but true.”

“Victor, dear, you are missing the most amusing story.” Ophelia appeared in the doorway, pointedly waiting until Victor moved away from Pandora’s side.

Victor looked back at Pandora.

“I’m coming too,” she said, snatching the two opened bottles of wine and following him out. She refused to give in to her mother’s scheming.

In fact, she even took her seat next to Victor at the table instead of staying next to Elias. His leg brushed against hers, and she could swear a jolt of electricity coursed up her thigh and sneaked across her belly.

“Elias is going to be staying with us for a few weeks,” Ophelia said, making Pandora turn her stunned look to her mother.

“Why?” she asked before she could think better of it.

“What a strange question,” Ophelia said. “Because we look forward to enjoying his company.”

Pandora glanced over toward her brother, silently asking if he knew anything of this. But Dante just gave her a small head shake. This was the first he was hearing about it as well.

Pandora was half tempted to declare that now that she was engaged, she was going to be moving in with Victor. She was all too aware, however, that her future was still in her parents’ hands. If she wanted to inherit her fortune, she had to play nice. Or, at the very least, not outright goad them.

“Victor, Dante, do you mind helping Ravenna clear the table?” Ophelia asked, knowing she was taking away Pandora’s only back-up at the table.

“Victor is a guest, Mum,” Pandora said. Normally, her parents were nothing if not well-mannered.

“Nonsense,” Ophelia said, waving an elegant hand. “He’s practically family now, isn’t he?”

“I’ll help too,” Pandora said, pushing her chair back.

“It’s OK,” Victor said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Of course, Mrs. Von Ashmore.” He got to his feet, then reached for the nearest serving dishes. “I’m happy to help.”

Pandora watched Victor follow Dante and Ravenna out of the dining room, before turning back with a sigh.

“So, Pandora,” Elias said, either oblivious to her sour mood, or not caring, “I hear you work at a … coffee shop.”

“I do.”

“Why?” he asked, gesturing toward the house.

She couldn’t exactly tell him that she worked there because she actually liked humans; she found that their mortality made them seem to just live more fully. They knew they only had a certain number of years, so they tried to fill that time with as much laughter and joy as possible.

It was endearing and refreshing.

“I like it,” she answered simply.

Ophelia prompted her. “Dear, this is where you ask Elias what he does for work.”

Pandora couldn’t care less. But she couldn’t be that rude. “What do you do for work, Elias?” she asked obediently.

“I deal in rare artifacts,” he said. Which, thankfully, prompted about three hundred questions from Uncle Reginald, who, apparently, had about a thousand items he might be interested in selling.

The discussion lasted long enough – despite Ophelia’s constant attempts to steer the conversation and get Elias and Pandora talking – to allow Victor to finish helping with the clearing of the table, whole pig and all, and take his seat beside her again.

“Never … more,” Vlad declared this into a sudden gap in the chatter, making Victor look over, brows raised as he inspected the raven.

“That’s impressive,” he said, nodding at the bird.

Pandora didn’t tell Victor that Vlad could actually recite the entire one-hundred-and-eight-line poem.

In dramatized fashion. Or that he claimed he was the raven from the famous poem.

That taunting Edgar had simply been another of his many pranks during a short stint their family had spent in the States.

Nor that, despite all of that, Vlad’s favorite Edgar Allan Poe poem was actually Annabel Lee .

“He’s a chatty bird,” Pandora said, figuring there might be a time when Victor overheard the raven speaking, and not wanting him to be surprised by it.

Though, even she had to admit that the chances of Victor finding out that undead ravens existed, let alone that her family had one, were slim to none.

“Shall we take drinks in the parlour?” Ophelia asked, rising to her feet, prompting all of the men to immediately follow.

Victor reached for the back of Pandora’s chair and then waited for her to step out, before following her out into the hallway, then down the hall toward the parlour.

“Wow, that’s an impressive clock,” Victor said as he noticed the cherrywood grandfather clock with its ebony inlays and brass Arabic numerals. The swan-neck pendant sat unmoving.

“It’s a shame it hasn’t rung since 1832,” Lucian said in passing, forgetting the situation for a moment.

Victor shot a confused look in Pandora’s direction. “How does he know that?”

“Oh, er, it was … in the owner’s manual,” Pandora said. “Very detailed,” she added with a nod.

“Mind if I take a look at it?” Elias asked, making Lucian straighten.

“By all means,” her father said. Pandora tried not to roll her eyes as she led Victor further into the room, pulling him down with her on a sofa.

“You’re still freezing,” Victor said when her hand brushed his. He reached for it, holding it between both of his as Ravenna asked him no fewer than fifty rapid-fire questions, barely giving him enough time to answer before shooting him another one.

Pandora was endlessly thankful for Ravenna, though. She was clearly trying. To be accepting. To make Victor feel comfortable.

While her own mother tried to insert a new love interest into her life. Right under her fiancé’s nose.

“There we go,” Elias said a few moments later, waving toward where the pendulum was now swinging lazily.

Who was this guy?

Pandora thought he was starting to seem like one of those Mary Sue characters in books that were universally hated because they were just too good at everything. Too pretty, too smart, too talented. With no real depths, vulnerabilities, insecurities, or flaws to even out all that perfection.

What was the male version of a Mary Sue called, she wondered. A Larry Stu? Gary Stu?

If they were taking suggestions for new names for the male version, Pandora would love to volunteer Elias Thornwell.

No, it didn’t roll off the tongue quite as easily, but it would sure make Pandora feel a lot better if a hated characterization was named after the vampire who was currently schmoozing her mother and father without any effort.

“Pandora?” Victor’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah?” she asked, horrified that Victor might have seen her staring at Elias and assumed she might be ogling him, instead of imagining what it might be like to stomp over there and push him into the fireplace. “Sorry. I’m getting tired.”

It wasn’t a lie per se.

She was tired.

Exhausted, actually.

But mentally, emotionally. Not physically. If she went up to bed, she was sure she would toss and turn endlessly, replaying the events of the night, beating herself up for things she’d done, or hadn’t done, to make the evening go more smoothly.

“Maybe we should call it a night,” Ravenna said, looking concerned.

“Oh, no!” Aunt Anastacia got to her feet. “My Bellatrix was just about to honor us all with a song.”

As if the night hadn’t been painful enough.

Pandora turned her head so she could speak without anyone reading her lips, and whispered to Victor, “I apologize in advance for this.”

Victor turned his head closer, his lips nearly brushing her ear, his warm breath teasing over her skin. “For what?”

He found out soon enough, though, as Bellatrix got to her feet, clasped her hands in front of her, elbows out wide, opened her mouth, and made them all regret the great acoustics in the room.

“Victor,” Anastacia said afterward, beaming. “What did you think?”

Victor paused for the barest of seconds before saying, with a straight face, “I have no words.”

A laugh built in Pandora’s throat before she could fight it off, making her cover it with a hard cough instead.

“Sorry,” she said as Victor patted her on the back, his green eyes bright with barely contained laughter himself. “Wine went down the wrong pipe,” she said, despite not having taken a sip.

“Bellatrix,” Elias called out, making everyone turn to face him. “Wherever did you learn to sing?” he asked, making Pandora wonder if his one true flaw was being tone-challenged.

“Oh, my Bellatrix is entirely self-taught.” Aunt Anastacia beamed at her daughter.

“You wouldn’t want a vocal coach to ruin such … raw talent,” Elias said smoothly, making Pandora put a hand over her mouth, looking like she was covering a yawn, not suppressing a smile.

Maybe he wasn’t as boring and annoying as she’d first thought.

Still, that didn’t mean she was going to fall for the guy, no matter what her mother wanted.

She was with Victor.

Just then, Victor’s thumb started to absentmindedly tease over the back of her hand. She felt that familiar sizzle of interest, of attraction, of longing moving up her arm and across her chest, making that newly familiar heat warm her from the inside once again.

At that same moment, across the room, Ophelia’s smile fell as she looked at her daughter.