Scarlet Vamporium: Vamporium #2 by Poppet[vampire] Read Free Book Online Page A

against the wall absently picking at the label on his bottle, he seems friendlier, “Aye? What did ye dae that was so bad ye needed isolation fer discipline?”
    I had sex with a teenage boy. It's my nature, I'm a vampyre, but uncle Venix flipped the heck out and banished me.
    But I don't think telling Roddie any of that will serve me. There's a time and a place for honesty. This isn't the time, or the place.
    “It's personal,” I mumble, looking away and back at the rowdy folk. They're dancing like a bunch of horses doing dressage together.
    “How old are ye?”
    I mature faster than you. I age a year every four months and will until I turn twenty-seven. I will stay twenty-seven for eternity.
    Right now I'm the human equivalent of seventeen, but by this time next year I'll be twenty-one. Next week I turn eighteen.
    I opt for the higher number. “Eighteen. And you?”
    “Twenty-two.”
    “Oh,” I nod politely, wondering what the heck happened to Doug.
    “There he is!” yells at us, and a stocky, short, dirty blond comes prancing our way.
    He swears under his breath just loud enough for me to hear it.
    “Wha' dae ye want Heather? Can ye no see I'm busy.”
    These Celtic chicks all have boobs bigger than their heads, all of them padded with a generous layer of insulating fat, and most of the ones I've seen so far look cheap.
    This is a house party not a strip club. Lord above, look at the heels on those shoes. Do guys really like the hoe look that much? I can pull off high heels, but clothing combination makes all the difference to overall presentation.
    And to think I spent two hours deciding what to wear tonight. I'm not even wearing make-up. But then I don't need to. Heather here does because she looks like she french kissed a demolition ball and bannocked her face. It's flat and semi-quare. If she looks like that at twenty I'd hate to see her when she hits her forties.
    “Why are ye hidin' in the corner with a stranger?” she demands of him, giving me the death glare.
    “It's called conversation, ye may have heard of it,” he says, looking tense.
    As if sensing my judgment she sends me a stare that clearly warns me to stay away from her man. She's so plain and common it makes me feel like an elite member of the bourgeoisie.
    You can have him sweetie. It looks more to me that your man is interested in me than I am in him.
    Get over yourself.
    Shame, I feel mildly sorry for her. Don't date a dude who makes you feel insecure. How thick are humans anyhow?
    She stops directly in front of me, leers close enough for me to smell the stale cigarette on her breath, and sneers, “Who are you?”
    Her body language warns me I'm about to have my first confrontation, and from the state of her blood alcohol ratio I get the impression it's going to be violent.
    “Doug's friend,” I say, standing straight so I am looking down my nose.
    “Oh, Doug's friend yeah? Then why aren't ye with Doug then? Who de ye think ye are waltzing in here and hijacking everyone fer yer own entertainment?”
    “Overreact much?” I snap back.
    This is ridiculous.
    My acute senses detect the adrenaline flooding into her body, I sense her muscles tensing, and I don't miss the tightening of stubby chewed fingernails curling into her hands to form tight fists.
    “We don't take kindly tae rude strangers,” she hisses, squaring off.
    As if reciting the steps to an old dance he's all too familiar with, Roddie jumps between me and Heather. “Fer cryin' out loud woman. Can't ye ever be nice? I'm not wearing yer ring, we're not dating, and just because I'm talking tae Doug's friend disnae mean nawt.”
    “Disnae mean nawt? Then why are ye tryin' tae protect her if it disnae mean nawt?!”
    What do I do? I can't fight her! Selene will behead me if I get into a fight. We're ladies, not street urchins squabbling over crumbs.

 
    Chapter 5
     
    Douglas:
     
    Skidding into the lounge I see it all happen before I can shoulder my way to them.
    Shoving