“Enough with the jokes,” Van said, crying and wiping the whipped cream off her face. “I’m just so happy you’re safe.”

Antonio pushed Cyrus to the wall and embraced Vanessa. “Of course, mi amor. I’d cheat death just for you.”

“Please don’t ever do that again,” Van said and pushed her face into his shoulder. “My heart can’t take it.”

“I won’t but I sacrificed myself so you could live a happy life free of demon cakes. That’s the only reason I’d play with your fragile heart like that.”

“Thank you,” Van sobbed.

Cyrus slunk away with a nauseated and slightly dejected frown on his face. Archibald and Jetta both stood beside each other. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Mr. Heartbreaker,” Archibald said with a big smile on his face.

“Aye,” Antonio said as he nuzzled Van in his shirt. “I was devoured by that awful cake, but it was worth the smile on her face to cut my way out of it and kill it once and for all.”

Van turned around to face Archibald. Her face was covered with the whipped cream from nuzzling Antonio’s shoulder, but her face beamed brightly in spite of it. She was the happiest Cyrus had ever seen her, and for a dead serious person like Van, that was no understatement. “I’m so happy!” she exclaimed. “And… and…wow.”

“Wow what?” Antonio said.

“That was my first kiss,” Van squealed with her normally reserved and sardonic voice reaching higher pitches. “Funny Trinity always said she’d be the first to kiss a handsome prince, but sorry Trinity, looks like it was me!”

She embraced Antonio fully, causing Cyrus to loudly munch on his leg of mutton again. “At least I’m going to be the first to kiss a beautiful princess,” he said, spitting out the bone.

“What was that?” Vanessa asked, and she passionately kissed Antonio again.

***

While Vanessa and Antonio cozied up with each other under the covers of Antonio’s bed, (with a no-touch policy, fortunately for Cyrus) Cyrus slept uncomfortably in the bed of Antonio’s deceased mother. He utterly despised how the two would whisper sweet nothings to each other in a language he didn’t understand. He turned towards the window where the half moon brightly beamed. He imagined he was holding Trinity tight-- and was almost tempted to steal Archibald’s mirror to see if he could reach her again- -but the food in his belly immobilized him. He preferred to stay in bed with his invisible princess; it helped him drift off into a relaxed slumber.

A floorboard creaked loudly and suddenly, Cyrus found himself stirring in his bed. He stealthily turned aside and saw Antonio slip out of his bed and quickly exit the room. Cyrus looked to see if anyone else was awakened by the noise, but aside from a soft moan from Van, everyone was as still as the dry air. Cyrus slipped out of the covers and put his stockings and boots on. He was already suspicious of how Antonio returned and how perfect his entrance was, but now he had a reason to think that.

Cyrus crept down the stairs and watched as the wooden door swung closed. Through the small dark window, he saw Antonio steal into the night. Cyrus gave chase, following him into the hot night air. He didn’t see which way Antonio was headed but Cyrus stopped when he heard a deep voice that caught his attention. “It’s a beautiful night in spite of all that’s going on and now I can finally clear my head. If I talk to the moon and stars, I can speak my true feelings without the fear of getting rejected. It’s the only way I can cease this pain in my throbbing heart...”

Antonio’s talking to himself, Cyrus thought and he tip-toed towards the alley where the voice was coming from. He stealthily placed himself against the alleyway and listened further.

“I wish all those times that he was smoking and drinking and having fun he could have turned aside and noticed me standing there. I wished I was as talented as him, as suave as him, as impossibly beautiful as him.”

“Who is Antonio talking about?” Cyrus asked himself.

Cyrus put his ear to the edge of the wall. “Oh full moon, please shift the direction of blood pumping through my maiden heart. I’m thirty five and yet I yearn like an unrepentant schoolgirl for his comedic talents and his sly but playful words. Oh Archie, you may have been hit with my love potion but I don’t even need one to feel that way about you.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Cyrus winced for a second when he realized it wasn’t Antonio behind the deep voice. It was Jetta.

Out of all the odd characters we’ve ran into, this woman is the weirdest, Cyrus thought to himself.

He wrinkled his face and quickly ran off into the night, attempting to find Antonio.

He jogged down the street. He made sure to stay fast enough to move quickly, but slow enough not to make himself winded. “How am I going to find him?” Cyrus asked himself.

“A champagne for my good amigo,” Antonio’s said, his voice coming from a dive bar window. Cyrus looked up and read the faded sign hanging above the entrance way, “The Dirty Demon.” He crept up on the porch and peered in through a cracked window. Resting his hand on the cracked glass he hoisted himself to peer inside.

He was shocked, but not surprised to see Antonio’s feet leaning on a table across from Bunting.

The Everblood, clad in a silvery cloak with his red brooch, glowed a ghostly blue in the ambiance of the nightclub as he sipped his champagne from a chipped glass. His slicked blond hair stood up like spiky peaks and his fangs glowed bright white.

“So you’re saying they bought eet?”

“Bunting, mi amigo, I play girls for a living. If she didn’t buy it, then I wouldn’t be Antonio Corazon.”

“Very good. Zee leetle mademoiselles are so gullible. Zat’s the one benefit to them.”

Cyrus swallowed hard but made sure they didn’t see or hear him from where he watched. He could feel anger surge through his veins even more than a feeling of “I told you so” towards Van. No one fooled with the friends of Prince Cyrus Coates.

“Amigo, sometimes I feel you have a personal vendetta against chicas,” Antonio said, leaning in his chair and smirking at a nearby waitress. “If I didn’t know you so well, I’d figure you had a bad break up.”

“Oh no no,” Bunting said, leaning away from his glass. “I just had to spend a great deal of time locked up with a particular wench. Oh she was absolutely dreadful.”

The vampire chef raised his voice to an even higher pitch than it already was to imitate the woman who repulsed him. “’Oh Bunting, will we ever get out of here? I don’t want my ravenous good looks to fade. The Uncreator must have something against a beautiful, eternal creature like me. I am after all as beautiful and lovely as Latua nightshade and just as deadly. I refuse to be a wrinkly old bat; Rosemary must stay young forever!’

Bunting chugged his glass without a single wince. “Oii she was so vain, she makes me look like a modest short order cook rather than Bunting Dupree, zee greatest and longest living chef in zee world. I am so glad to ‘ave escaped without losing my mind.”

“I pity you, hermano.” Antonio said, “But lets get down to business. What exactly do you want me to do again?”

“Unfortunately, Jetta and her ‘einous friends are well aware of my way of controling zee town. I fear they’ll be making a beeline for the gold tomorrow.”

“That’s exactly what they’re doing,” Antonio responded. “Wouldn’t it be best to nip them in the bud? I know where they sleep.”

Bunting leaned back in his chair and waited for the waitress to pour him more champagne before he spoke again. “Exactimento, but unfortunately, he is with them.”

“He?”

“Zee man with them. Zee one with the goofy smile and zee carefree attitude. You heard it from moi and only moi, but ‘ee is extremely powerful. Zat is all I can say.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Antonio muttered. “What can I do?”

“We need to get zee gold out. Once we do, I can take care of zee rest. You must stall them and keep them pre-occupied until zat time comes.”

Antonio brushed back his hair and a sinister grin shone in the dim candlelight. “Just you watch, that little chica would crawl on the ground and bark like a doggie if I commanded her.”

Cyrus felt his blood boil and he gripped the cracked glass tighter, causing it to break in his hand. A sharp pain cut through his palm, and as he pulled it away to inspect it, blood gushed from it. He shook it frantically, on the verge of tears from how much it hurt. Cyrus covered his mouth with his other hand and peered back through the window but Bunting was gone. Suddenly he felt gloved hands squeeze his flabby throat as the cold hearted chef sneered with eyes of frozen emerald. “Ho ho, think we’re slick, you fat leetle lard?”

An answer couldn’t escape Cyrus’ choked throat and he looked helplessly as Antonio stood at Bunting’s side.

“A leetle lard indeed,” Antonio said with eyes equally cold. “Put him down Dupree, I’ve got something to say to him mano y mano.”

Bunting dropped Cyrus on the ground, but before he could attempt to run, Antonio took a rapier, lifted up the scruff of Cyrus’ shirt and pinned him to the wall. He crouched down and leaned in front of Cyrus, glaring at him with his chocolate eyes. “I’m going to let you go, but let me tell you this. On the first day you were with me, I put something in the little senorita’s soup. I can give you a few guesses as to what it was.”

Cyrus swallowed hard. He knew immediately what Antonio did. “The d-d-evil’s gold.”

“Bingo,” Antonio said with a smirk. “And Bunting can summon a monster inside of her anytime he wants. If you go telling her or anyone about me. Your little senorita won’t be herself anymore.”

“W-w-why are you doing this?” Cyrus asked, nearly choking from his fluttering heart.

Antonio’s eyes shifted to Bunting and his voice grew tender and emotive. “He promised me something. Something dear that I’d trade the hearts of a thousand girls to have back.”

“Relax,” Bunting said with a fang-toothed grin. “I’m not like other Everbloods. I geeve what I promise. You’ll get eet if it all goes according to plan. So you, and this fat dolt better not mess eet up.”

“Well, you heard him,” Antonio said with a self satisfied smile. “And my my, just look at the time. I think it’s past your bed time you overweight brat.”

The last thing Cyrus saw before he awoke the next morning was the back of Antonio’s sword. When he found himself in bed again and the daylight sky brightened the room, he prayed it was a dream. Unfortunately for him, there was a large hole in the back of his shirt and a bandage wrapped around his hand.