Zen and the Art of Vampires

"Yes, marry. Zoryas are always wed. It is the way."

A horrible suspicion dawned that both relieved and annoyed me. "This is part of the tour, isn't it? You're not some wacky cult after all—you're just doing a lot of hand waving and mystical mumbo jumbo to distract my attention away from the fact that this is a blind date, right?"

"The Brotherhood are earnest in their intent to cleanse the world of evil," Kristjana said, an annoyed look flitting across her face.

"I can see you are." I crossed my arms over my chest, my relief that they weren't wackos mingling with my own irritation. However much trouble they went to, I wasn't inclined to go along with their silly production. "You can tell Audrey from me that I don't find it very entertaining. I may be on a singles' tour, but I'm not so desperate I'm willing to do some sort of role-playing thing, no matter how handsome the participant is."

Mattias's frown cleared. He smiled. "You are plump, but I like that. We will be good together sexually."

"Uh-huh," I said, unsure of whether I should be offended or amused by the scenario. At least I didn't have to worry that they were strange cultists who would perform who knew what sorts of acts upon my person.

"I am a very fine lover," he continued, obviously feeling it was a point he needed to drive home. So to speak.

"Well, I'm flattered and all, but as I said, I'm not really that… er… desperate. Not that I'd have to be desperate to want to hook up with you, Mattias, but I'm sure you know what I mean."

"No, I don't think I do," he said, the frown having returned.

I ignored that, smiling brightly and taking a couple more steps backward. "Well, this has been fun, but I think I'm going to get going. I'll be sure to tell Audrey just how good you guys were, though. And thanks for the plump-but-still-attractive comment. It's always nice to know that there are men out there who like women who aren't walking advertisements for anorexia. Night!"

Identical startled expressions manifested on their faces as I turned and walked out the door. Either they had believed their acting was enough to suck me in or, what was more likely, Audrey told them I'd be an easy mark, lonely enough that I'd agree to just about anything in order to have a date with a handsome man.

What stung was just how close to the truth that was. "After all, you're on a tour meant to pair people up. You can't get much more desperate than that," I told myself. My conversation was short-lived when I heard my name being called behind me.

Mattias stood at the door of the church. The older woman shoved him out of the way, pointed at me, and snapped out an order. He looked surprised for a moment, but ran down the steps with a set look on his face that triggered a sudden spurt of adrenaline.

What if they weren't set up by Audrey? What if they were, in actuality, a creepy cult that seriously believed I was going to marry a complete stranger simply because my book had an odd bookmark?

"Oh, crap," I swore, telling my brain to stop thinking and start making my legs move. I bolted down the street, spinning around a corner into a darker street, hoping to lose Mattias despite the fact that he was much more fit than me, not to mention probably quite familiar with the town.

I dashed around tidy trash cans, emerging into a lit street, screaming at the sudden noise of an approaching car slamming on its brakes and squealing to a stop a few feet away. I didn't wait to apologize, just gathered my tattered wits and sped across the remainder of the street and into a twisty narrow passage that ran between two tall stone buildings.

A man's voice called out behind me. Damn that long-legged Mattias. I was already out of breath and had a suspicious pain in my side that warned of a stitch.

"Please let me get away, please let me get away," I chanted in time to my pounding footsteps as I ran blindly through the still empty town, my brain squirreling around frantically for some way to escape Mattias. I had to double back somehow. That would surely throw him.

As I emerged from behind a different church, I spied a narrow set of stairs that led down to a small landing beneath the entrance. I flung myself down it and hunkered beneath the cement bridge that spanned the area, my back plastered against the cold stone. I covered my mouth to silence the sounds of labored breathing.

A few seconds later, a shadow flashed on the ground next to me, paused for a moment, then flickered past me toward the main square. I counted to ten, holding my breath, until black spots threatened to dance before my eyes. Cautiously I crawled out of my hiding spot and peered over the edge of the railing toward the street, my lungs wheezily drawing in much-needed oxygen.