Lucky Ch. 8:


Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, "Blood and Chocolate," by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn't mind me writing a story about them. Also, in order to make the relationships in this story legal, all of the characters have been aged up by three years.


Vivian spent the week before the Ordeal avoiding Gabriel. Well, sort of. Son of a bitch had the decency to understand that she needed space and hadn't so much as texted her.

Lounging abed, Vivian grimaced as she eyed her phone. Confrontation she could have handled, but this maturity and respect bullshit was what she got for going after an older man.

Older? He's 27. Calm down.

Vivian bounced off of her bed and walked down the hall to the bathroom. The tiled chamber held a filthy humidity and heat in the wake of Esme and Rudy's showers. Vivian stripped and stood under a blast of cold water for as long as she could stand. Rudy's house had been a blessing for them in a time of dire need, but it had been built long before air conditioning.

Vivian could feel the water washing away layers of morning sweat on top of night sweat.

Okay. I could sit here, spend the day ruminating on the Ordeal and marinate in my own body heat, or I could get out and distract myself.

Vivian turned the taps to hot and began washing her hair. She'd chosen the latter.


Vivian was dressed and headed out of the house.

She even made it to the end of the driveway before the intrusive questions returned.

Would she fight for Gabriel?

Would that entail fighting her own mother?

Could she handle the responsibility that came with the title of Queen Bitch?

Did she even want Gabriel enough to counterbalance all of the bullshit that went with being with him?

Vivian let the wave of wet heat wash away all thought. It didn't matter if she made a decision now. By dusk, she would have talked herself out of it anyway. The overthinking was going to drive her insane.

Vivian snorted. At least then I won't have to choose.

She let herself laugh aloud, surprised at how good she felt. She didn't even know where she was going. Did she care? Anything was better than being alone with her thoughts.

What time is it? Vivian pulled out her phone. 11:30; two days until the Ordeal. Two days to vacillate and hand wring.

Can't I just fast-forward two weeks? Vivian slid her phone back into her pocket.

Okay, distractions. I desperately need a distraction. Running through a mental list of things to do in Riverview, Vivian paused. Movie theater.

Loud noises

Moving pictures

Air conditioning

Okay. Vivian stopped at the intersection and adjusted her path. Two hours of mindlessness sounded delightful.

What was even playing?

Vivian reached it half an hour later, totally apathetic and desperate to escape the sun. The building, an aging multiplex adjacent to the mall bore garish and dated 90's murals like bad tattoos. Vivian stepped inside and inspected the listings, the back of her neck wet with perspiration. The marquee announced a children's cartoon, a limited rerelease of "Surf Nazis Must Die" and the rom-com of the week.

Vivian bought a ticket for "Surf Nazis Must Die." Romantic comedy was the last thing she needed, and theaters full of children should have been banned by the Geneva Convention. Plus, the show time was in twelve minutes. Time enough to pee and get snacks.


Cradling a tub of popcorn and a bottle of water, Vivian walked into the auditorium and tried to pick the most antisocial spot. Back left corner – vacant and ready to be claimed. Plopping herself into a seat, she set her bottle in the cup holder and her feet on the row in front of her.

Between the scroll of pre-trailers trailers and the greasy delight of movie popcorn, Vivian didn't register that she had neighbors until one of them tapped her on the shoulder.

Stolen from her reverie, Vivian looked up and took a moment to recognize Aiden, the human boy from school.

"Hey. I wouldn't have guessed you were a fan of late-eighties schlock."

Vivian paused to parse his meaning. "I'm not. I'm a fan of getting out of my house."'

Aiden laughed. "You too?"

"Me what?"

"Let me guess – your parents are already on your ass to get a job and start paying rent?"

No. Esme's probably just happy that I'm not sleeping around the clock anymore. She'd shit bricks if she knew the reason, though.

"Kind of. I'm more after the air conditioning than anything else."

Aiden shrugged. "I get that. We live in a garbage swamp town."

Vivian grinned, "Amen."

"Anyway," Aiden gestured to the opposite corner, where a gaggle of humans leered with varying levels of subtlety, "I thought I'd invite you to join us. We're probably going to be riffing the whole time, so it's either 'ignore us' or 'join us'."

Vivian looked over at the humans. "I… I don't know any of them."

"It's okay. I vouch for them all. Well, most of them."

Vivian closed her eyes and made a snap judgement. "…Um. Okay, I guess."

"Perfect! Quince has been wanting to meet you."

"Quince?"

"About the zine. He really likes that sketch you gave me, and he's got some ideas he wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh, yeah." And we'll just gloss over the part where I totally forgot that was a thing.

Vivian stood with her snacks and followed Aiden to the right side of the theater. A motley collection of oddballs populated the last two rows. Some of them had the decency not to stare. A small girl with sweat-streaked makeup eyed her with venom.

Vivian managed to keep her composure. Compared to the pack, the greeting was downright cordial. Still, she wanted to take the one girl to the bathroom and clean her up. Who the hell bothered with putting on a full face in heat like this?

A burly blonde kid mouthed some words at Aiden, then stood to greet her. "Hey. You're Vivian?"

She nodded.

"Dude, that fire scene was amazing! You're like, really talented."

Vivian liked Quince immediately.


The movie somehow managed to be worse than expected. The title lulled you, letting you think that you knew how bad it was going to get. If she'd been alone, she probably would have walked out after fifteen minutes. As it was, Vivian left the theater smiling. Aiden, whatever else he might be, was a pretty good curator of friends.

Waving over her shoulder, Vivian headed back toward Rudy's.

"Hey, Viv – aren't you coming?" Aiden called after her.

Vivian turned and shook her head. They were going for ice cream, and she didn't want to impose on their group time any more than she already had. Besides, the short girl with the streaky makeup had been glaring again, and Vivian wasn't in the mood to deal with that.

"Nah. I'm going to head home."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. You guys have fun."

"Always do."

"And send me those poems."

"Definitely!"

Vivian waved again, turning to start the trek home. The sun had passed its zenith, and the baked tar smell of the asphalt was beginning to make her feel a little nauseous.

"So, who are your new friends?"

Vivian whirled. Rafe. He'd been concealed behind the corner of the building. Was he waiting for me?

"Where did you come from?"

He snorted, walking toward her. "Don't dodge the question. Who are the meatbags?"

"Some kids from school. I ran into them in the theater. What's it to you?"

"Just curious." His eyes held malice.

"Well, don't be. It's none of your business." Vivian turned away and started walking.

"Okay, fuck me then, right?"

Vivian stopped, looking over her shoulder, "What do you want, Rafe?"

"I want to know why you're too good for us."

Vivian blinked, hard. Immediately, she wanted to tell him how full of shit he was. Her mouth filled with barbed words ready to be set loose. But she held her tongue. Instead, fear wormed its way into her heart. Am I? The past year had found her so wrapped up in herself that she'd alienated Esme – had she been unfair to her agemates too?

Pivoting on her heel, she got a full look at Rafe.

From his haphazard topknot to the toes of his combat boots, he radiated antagonism. Still, it was there, somewhere behind the scowl, under the contempt. Somewhere in there was the boy she'd grown up with, the playmate of days not so long past. They shared history; triumphs, defeats, and losses.

Not all losses. The blame for the Fire, though mostly Axel's, also lay on the Five. They'd all been out of control; going into town, stalking humans… She thought of the girl they'd killed to exonerate Axel. They'd crossed a line, especially Rafe as their leader, and she'd never forgiven them for that and all that came after. Could she ever?

Vivian felt her eyes soften. Instead of spitting venom, she breathed out a sigh. "I'm not too good for you, Rafe. I'm waiting for you to be worth knowing again."

She turned back and resumed walking, not waiting for his acid retort. It never came. There was silence.


Later, Vivian lounged on her bed, letting water droplets dry on her skin. After hiking across town and back, the second shower was a necessity – water bill be damned.

Vivian grinned, "Stupid swamp town."

Aiden was growing on her. Common sense and past experience told her that fraternizing with humans was a dangerous game, but Vivian couldn't look at his goofy, puppy face and see any danger.

Reaching over, she picked up her phone and checked her messages. Nothing from Aiden.

Damn. She genuinely wanted to check out his poetry – see if there was anything there that she could work with.

Nothing from Gabriel either. Vivian's idle smile turned to a frown.

"Stupid emotional maturity."

Vivian heard her words fill the room and sat up. Looking around at the trappings of her life, she felt the magnitude of the looming decision pressing in on her. By this time next week, her life would be drastically and unalterably changed, whether she was ready for it or not. The hours and days hadn't shed any light on her path. A thousand years could pass and still find her vacillating.

Vivian groaned, collapsing back on her bed, the weight of her phone still in her hand.

She looked at it, thinking about the two people she wanted to hear from most.

"Fuck it." Vivian tapped open her messenger and typed a short text.

"What should I do?"

The instant she hit send, her skin started crawling and self-doubt flooded like poison through her veins. Oh god, instant regret. The seconds drew out like eons. And then-

"What do you want to do?" Gabriel. She could almost hear him say it, could almost see his frustratingly calm face.

Vivian breathed deep and tried for honesty. "I want to make things stay the way they are. I like the way things are, for once."

"Me too."

"You're really going to compete?"

"Yes."

Damnit. "Why?"

Vivian waited. The screen said he was typing, but he seemed to be taking an eternity.

"We need a leader, and I don't trust someone else to do the job right."

Vivian smirked. "What? You mean rotting in the suburbs isn't the best we can do?"

"No. Not at all."

"Okay. Give me your pitch. How would you lead us?"

"There's tons of unclaimed territory in New England. Lots of trees. Few humans. Tourist country – we could go back into business."

Vivian leaned back, considering the scenario he'd spun. New England. Scenic, isolated. They could open another inn there. They knew that game. It'd be simple enough to find a property and set themselves up. She saw golden leaves, rolling hills, and brilliant stars.

"The winters would be miserable."

"Better than summers here."

Touché. Vivian wiped a bead of moisture off of her neck.

"What about those that don't want to move again? We just left West Virginia a year ago."

"Then they can stay. We're dying here. Another year or two in Riverview, and there won't be a pack anymore."

Vivian wanted to type a catty response, but stopped. The isolation of the last year, the alienation – she wasn't the only one hurting from it.

"It'll be a hard sell."

"…you could help me. I mean, if you wanted to."

Vivian felt her breath hitch.

"I'm sorry.

"I swear; I'm not trying to pressure you.

"Bad joke.

"Forget I said it."

Vivian set her phone face down on her nightstand. Like hell.