My dear sweet sister, Ella, loves to spread good cheer and it’s so thoughtful of her to push it toward my characters. But alas, wedding bliss can only last so long before reality sets in.
Let’s visit Angel first before getting to the “happy” couple.
Her absence at the wedding had been noticed, but dismissed quickly as her dislike for Willamina was well known. It’s true she hated the girl, but that wasn’t the reason she skipped Mordecai’s big day.
If you recall, it was Angel who sent Cousin Mordecai on a wild goose chase—or so she thought—to the cemetery. Remorse filled her minutes after he left the mansion. At first she didn’t recognize the feeling in her chest, but as her mind spun and her daft cousin’s face appeared in her thoughts, she realized what was troubling her. Cursing violently—she didn’t like feeling this way and hated Mordecai even more for putting it there—she dressed and snagged Mum’s scythe. (You never know when an opportunity might arise and since her knives and bone saw were confiscated—again, Mordecai’s fault—she needed something.)
At the cemetery, Angel wasn’t shocked to find Mordecai sobbing like a little girl, but she was surprised to find him lying in an open grave. What an idiot. She was about to tell him to shut up so she could figure out how to get him out of there when a flash of movement distracted her. Turning, scythe raised, a flash of long blonde locks registered before the breath left her body in a heave and she sailed through the air. Her Mum’s beloved weapon flew out of her hands. (Shit, she was going to be in so much trouble if that broke.) Then Angel crashed against a headstone and fell to the ground.
Pain speared her body. Each labored breath was torture. She was unable to move, having broke many bones.
Flash forward to five days after the wedding. Mordecai was sitting up in his wedding bed, gaze on the empty spot next to him.
It was the same. Night after night.
How could it be? His sweet Willamina, a vampire slayer?
He stared across the room at the life size cardboard cut out of Edward Cullen. Then at the Twilight family posters (sans Bella) on the wall. The Eclipse nightshirt lying over the back of the chair in the corner. The Breaking Dawn bag clips attached to her book bag zipper. The open contact case on her dresser that during the day held her yellow lenses.
The day after the wedding, he’d helped his wife carry her things into his bedroom. He’d assumed her Twilight obsession meant she loved vampires.
But a gleam entered her eyes when he mentioned it. She said it helped her remember evil walked the earth and it was her duty to stop it. Had secretly trained her whole life for this moment. Now, free from her parents, she able to stay out all night and hunt.
Willamina even talked about cutting her hair.
Mordecai bit his fingernail, gaze trailing to the large dog pillow against the wall. His wife, a vampire slayer?!? Acid churned in his stomach. Since learning about his wife’s extra curricular activities he hadn’t allowed Balthazar into his room out of fear for the dog’s safety.
He’d always suspected there was something different with Balty. The dog liked to hang out in the cemetery. Would often come home with bones in his mouth. Human bones. And sometimes if the light was at the right angle, Balty’s eyes glowed.
If his Willamina hunted vampires, what’s to say she wouldn’t hunt other supernatural creatures as well.
Mordecai missed his dog, though. And Willamina had changed. Slaying. Cutting her hair. This couldn’t go on.
He knew what he had to do. Living in the Blackwater house, he picked up a few things.
It was the right action to take. It was his duty to protect Balty.
The next night Willamina disappeared, never to be heard from again.
Two days later Cousin Mordecai was put into prison. Apparently, he didn’t learn the most important lesson from his family: How not to get caught.
Lord Slogar: -45
Professor Helena Slogar: 0
Melissa Slogar: 0
Elias E. Gorr: -30
The Old Dam: 0
Cousin Mordecai: -20
Willem Stark: +10
Gloomy Writing Prompt: Innocent or guilty, what did your character do to land in prison?
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