Crimson Death (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #25)(54)

When Will glanced up, he happened to look straight across the room at me. I got the feeling he’d already known where I was standing. As soon as he caught my eye, his smile changed to become a little shy, and he ducked his head, still smiling.

I was giving him what was probably the dopiest stare I’d given anyone in my life when Lara yanked me by my elbow to cross over to the refreshments stand. Darnell and Niamh were standing closely together, and their hands kept brushing. It was extremely intimate, and romantic, and oh, look, Lara was leading us over there to break it up, how nice.

“Hey guys,” Lara said. “Don’t you both scrub up well.”

I’d lost sight of Will on the way over here. As I tried to super-casually search for him again, I drifted out of the conversation. It was mostly small-talk, anyway—I got the feeling Niamh and Darnell were hinting that they wanted to be left alone for a bit. I’m sure Lara got the hint, it was more that she didn’t so much care, was all.

The dance floor was pumping already. From the way some of the kids were dancing, it was pretty obvious at least some of them had pre-gamed in someone’s backyard before coming here. In fact, now that I thought about it, Lara had more than likely smuggled her flask along somewhere. I guess she’d just figured I wouldn’t say yes to any. Which, fair. I wouldn’t say yes.

I was so busy people-watching, though, that I totally missed the part of the conversation where Lara excused herself to go talk to Renee. Except she must have, because suddenly she was over with Renee, and they were walking off somewhere together.

Which meant I was an unwilling third wheel, didn’t it?

I turned slowly to Darnell and Niamh. Oh shit. I didn’t know anyone else. I had no one I could go talk to. But I definitely wasn’t wanted here. I cleared my throat. “So, how long have you two been here?” I asked.

“I’ve been here for about twenty, but Niamh got here a minute before you two,” Darnell said. Like Niamh, Darnell didn’t seem to possess the nastiness gene, and he said it with such a genuine, friendly smile I couldn’t possibly feel awkward about it.

Except, yes, I could, because it was me, and I would probably feel awkward at my own ninetieth birthday party, surrounded by a room full of people that I’d loved and raised.

“You didn’t come together?” I asked.

Apparently, that was the exact wrong thing to ask. Darnell pursed his lips and cringed, while Niamh opened her mouth into an O shape of doom. “Well, I don’t know, I just think maybe it’s a little early—”

“Right,” Darnell added, when he clearly meant wrong.

“For that,” Niamh finished.

“Okay, gotcha, cool,” I said. “Cooooool.”

This time, when I looked up, Will was standing about four feet away from me. I blinked and took a step back in surprise. “Um, hi?”

“Hey,” he said. “What’s up? Remember what we were talking about earlier today? It’s over here. Wanna come see?”

I did not remember what we were talking about earlier today. Mostly because I was quite sure we did not talk at all earlier today. And talking to Will wasn’t the kind of thing I tended to forget about. At least, I couldn’t remember ever forgetting him.

Well, this was a bother. Frying pans and fire and all that. Niamh and Darnell were only too happy to wave me off, though, so off I trailed after Will to check out the thing we never talked about, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I have never seen anything more uncomfortable in my life,” Will said. “It was like watching a donkey trying to make friends with some unicorns.”

“Are you calling me a donkey?”

“A really, really amazing, awesome donkey. And if you weren’t a donkey, I don’t think I’d like you as much, because unicorns seem like they’d make a lot fewer jokes than donkeys,” Will said, still walking. “Can you imagine a quirky unicorn?”

“I cannot imagine a quirky unicorn.” My answer was clipped, but Will didn’t seem to notice.

“Exactly. Unicorns are so vanilla.”

“What’s it like trying to dig yourself out of a hole this big, Will?”

“I’m struggling, but I’ve got less practice at it than you do.”

I pressed my lips tightly together. We pulled up against the wall and both of us put our backs to it, leaving us isolated enough that we could talk in low voices without being heard. Will sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, that was meant to be a joke. What I meant to say is, you look amazing.”

Oh.

I tried to smile, but my face fought back. Who knew heartache worked better than Botox?

A part of me wanted to bring up the other day, and apologize for saying I loved him and making things weird. Even though we’d seen each other a few times since then, neither of us had brought it up. And you don’t just forget to mention something like that. Also, I couldn’t help but feel like Will was overcompensating. He’d been acting a little too cheerful and upbeat lately, but it was like trying to hide a skunk spray with a spritz of perfume.

A pile of bricks sat in the pit of my stomach. My limbs felt weighed down, and my chest was filled with a weird, tight pressure that I could only relieve by exhaling. Again, and again. Which came out sounding like a series of passive-aggressive sighs.

Apparently, my emotions had a sassy attitude of their own. Note to self: never play poker.