“Oh, thank you, sweetie,” Landon drawled. “I’m so glad you picked this to fight about and not my honor when Lila was throwing herself at me.”
I ignored the dig. “Marcus is nice, but Landon is better.”
Thistle’s eyes flashed with anger at the same moment the sky illuminated with faux lightning. Thistle and I turned away from each other at the same time, our potential fight forgotten as we stared at the sky.
“Did you see that?” Thistle narrowed her eyes. “It’s like lightning except … it’s not.”
“It’s a lightning effect,” Sam supplied. “I know because I’ve been considering doing similar things for the barge this upcoming season. I want to be able to simulate thunderstorms. I think the guests will really enjoy it.”
“So it’s not really a storm,” Landon mused. “We’re not really outside, are we?” He lifted his head and stared at the black sky. There was no ceiling there, and yet it was obvious we were in an enclosed space of some sort. “How come we’re not outside?”
“I told you when this first started that soap sets were minimal,” I reminded him. “That’s what we’re dealing with here.”
“What else are we dealing with?” Thistle asked, turning to face an ornate door with a series of runes carved into the frame. “Look at these.”
“What are they?” Landon moved close to me. “Do you know what those are?”
I shrugged. “They look relatively familiar. I’m sure they’re from some book or another.”
“Witch book?”
“Wiccan, but sure.” I flashed him a smile. “She put these symbols here to signify the shift in the story. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she picked runes to mark this door. It’s a warning of sorts.”
“What kind of warning?”
“We’re heading into a paranormal world when we open this door.”
Landon stilled. “Isn’t the whole world paranormal?”
It took me a moment to realize what he was getting at. “Yes … and no. Aunt Tillie is using magic to make us believe we’re in a different world where the rules of soap operas are key. The world itself is fairly normal, at least in the grand scheme of things.”
“She’s saying that this isn’t a magic world,” Thistle added. “It’s not as if Aunt Tillie shoved us into a horror world where different kinds of magic might be at play. It’s not even a scientific world, so we can’t use Bay’s ridiculous amount of Star Trek knowledge.”
I balked. “Hey! Star Trek rules.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Thistle rolled her eyes. “The most important thing is that this world has mostly followed real-world rules. Sure, people come back from the dead here and we have evil, more evil and most evil triplets, but the laws of life still hold true.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” Landon prodded.
“Not all soaps follow the same rules,” I replied. “Not all soaps are created equal.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that there were three soaps that created their own rules and featured paranormal creatures,” Clove supplied. “Dark Shadows was the original. It had an intricate vampire storyline.”
“Are you telling me that we’ll be dealing with vampires in this scene?” Landon was incredulous. “Soap opera vampires?”
I held my hands palms out and shrugged. “I really don’t know. Passions had a witch.”
“And a doll that came to life, but that was altogether creepy,” Thistle said. “I don’t want this to turn into Passions. Dark Shadows is better.”
“You said there were three supernatural shows,” Marcus prodded. “What’s the third?”
“Port Charles.”
“And what’s wrong with Port Charles? I can tell something is wrong by the looks on your faces.”
“Port Charles was simply a really odd mixture of things,” I replied. “Vampires, vampire slayers, angels – other things. It was completely loopy and crazy. Plus, it was set in the same city as General Hospital, but the characters there never commented on the paranormal aspects being highlighted on Port Charles. It was simply … weird.”
“Isn’t that the status quo for all soaps?”
“Not like this.”
“I don’t even want to see what’s on the other side of this door.” Landon rubbed his forehead. “I just know this is going to suck.”
“Vampires suck,” I agreed, smirking when Thistle and Clove broke into giggles. “Shall we?” I gestured toward the door.
“Let’s do this.” Landon put his hand on my lower back. “I can’t wait to see who rips my shirt off in this world. I hope it’s a witch.”
“That sounds lovely,” I muttered.
He lowered his mouth to my ear. “I hope it’s my witch.”
I didn’t want to smile, but I couldn’t help myself. “I don’t think you’re going to get that lucky.”
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
INSIDE WAS BETTER THAN outside, but only from a clinical perspective. It was supposed to look grimy, but instead it looked like a video game version of Dracula’s tomb.
“Oh, well, this is lovely.” Landon grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to his side. “Is that a coffin?” He gestured toward the center of the room with his chin.
I nodded. “Yup. A coffin with a moon roof to allow stardust to land on it.” I moved closer, but Landon wasn’t happy with my curiosity and pulled me back.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking inside.”
“Are you joking?”
“Does it look like I’m joking?”
“Why would you possibly want to look inside of a coffin?” Landon challenged. “No good can come of that.”
“If we don’t, we’ll never get out of here.”
“She’s right.” Thistle moved ahead of us. “I’ll do it.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Landon said after a beat. “It’s your turn to be the leading lady. That means you get to open the casket. We’ll stay right here and watch your back.”
Thistle made a disgusted face. “Whatever.” She strolled to the edge of the coffin, looked around to make sure someone wasn’t about to jump out of the shadows and attack her, and tugged open the heavy lid. The figure inside threw me for a loop.
“Chief Terry?” I broke free of Landon’s grip and hurried to the coffin, leaning forward when I saw the familiar face. “Is he … dead?”
“It’s not real, Bay,” Landon reminded me, appearing at my elbow. “That’s not really Chief Terry.”
“I know, but … .”
Chief Terry, who had been still as granite moments before, flicked open his eyes and pinned me with an unreadable look. “Who are you?”
His voice was chilling, as was the echo that filled the room.
“Why does he echo, but we don’t?” Clove asked, looking around.
“Because he’s a vampire, stupid,” Thistle chided. “Vampires echo.”
“Since when?” Clove’s annoyance came out to play. “I don’t ever remember vampires echoing in movies and stuff. In fact, the vampires in Twilight didn’t echo.”
“That’s because the vampires in Twilight weren’t real,” Thistle shot back. “They were weak little brooders who sparkled. Those aren’t vampires. They’re Las Vegas showgirls.”
She had a point. “Chief Terry, what are you doing in there?” I peered over the coffin edge even though Landon kept trying to drag me back. “I don’t think you should be in there. That can’t be good for your back.”
Chief Terry smiled, the expression slow and seductive. His fangs gleamed under the moonlight and made my stomach twist. Even though I knew it wasn’t real, I didn’t like it. “I am the king of the living dead. I don’t suffer … back pain.” He rolled to a sitting position, groaning as he rubbed his lower back. “See. I’m a king.”
“You’re also wearing a cape.” Landon relaxed a bit when he saw Chief Terry’s outfit up close. “You look like Batman.”
Chief Terry rolled his eyes. “I’m king of the living dead.”
“Shouldn’t that be undead?” Thistle asked, fingering the cape. “Polyester, huh? Aunt Tillie should’ve spent a little more money on costumes.”
“I have no idea who this Aunt Tillie you speak of is.”
“Alexis Kane,” I supplied. “She’s supposed to be a big deal around these parts.”