Coffin Girls (Elegantly Undead: Book 1 of the Coffin Girls Witch Vampire Series) (4 page)

People slithered around and between the gigantic, old live
oaks that stood at attention, creating a natural alley leading towards the
Mississippi’s famous River Road.  Some guests looked for adventure; others
walked in childish awe between the ancient trees. They worshipped them
reverently looking up at them, touching the edges of the hanging tendrils of
Spanish moss, nature’s contribution to the wedding décor. The majority of the
guests were located where she stood, drawn in by the food and drink offered on
the cocktail tables set up here and there on the lawn, seemingly casual yet
cunningly placed. The bride was stationed at a few of the larger tables set up
on the broad gallery that encircled the entire bottom floor of the house.
Anais, owner of Papillion Plantation and majority shareholder of Papillion
Weddings, spotted staff efficiently wade through the crowds, barely noticeable
as they ensured that guests remained happy with hors d’ oeuvress trays filled
and champagne readily topped up.

“Anais, we have a problem.” Veronique’s voice, followed by
static, and came through on her ear-piece.

“Roger, V. What seems to be the problem?” Anais began
walking towards the direction where V was located, her vampire hearing knew
where V was the minute she made contact and if not for that, the fact that
Anais was V’s maker allowed her to link with her whenever she needed. 

“Uh...” V was at a loss for words, not a good thing. “It’s a
delicate situation. Please could you come over?” A pregnant pause, then,
“Over”.

“Are the others coming over too? Over.” V’s stint in the
military meant that she was a stickler for radio protocol. They humored her for
the most part.

“Negative. This requires some privacy. Like I said, it’s
delicate. Over.”

“Roger that, I’ll see you soon,” Anais frowned. Spurred on
by the mystery, she made her way to the bridal change rooms on the second floor
of the
maison
. A revolting smell permeated the air, which, thanks to her
vampire senses, was heightened. Vampires didn’t really have to breath, so Anais
switched to pretending, making her chest move slightly in and out, while she
discontinued taking in the strangely gross-tinged air.

V turned to her and the serious face she’d been putting on
for the sobbing maid of honor behind her was immediately replaced by an
ear-splitting grin. Anais’s brow puckered, it wasn’t like V to be insensitive.
V turned back to the poor maid of honor and the serious face was pasted back
on. Anais felt her lips twitch at the comical transformations; it was like
being caught in a Shakespearean farce.

“Shari-lee, I’ll be right back. I’m just going to go chat to
Anais to figure out what we can do to help you. Don’t worry,” V placated the
now hysterical girl, “we’ll sort this situation out in no time.” V ushered her
wailing charge into the en-suite bathroom, “Why don’t you freshen up while we
come up with a solution for you. There’s a new range of fantastic organic berry
shower gel or if you prefer, lavender and passion-fruit infused bath salts. You
can even relax and put the jets on.”

“Anais, can I see you outside for a moment, please?”

Pulled outside the room by a tomato-red V – yes, vampires
have blood in their bodies and sometimes they do have enough to blush – Anais
asked at vampire-soft level, “What’s going on? And what was that smell in
there?”

V was clutching her stomach, shoulders hunched in silent
laughter as she leaned against the wall of the hallway for support.

“Come”, Anais dragged V into the guest room next door.
Although they never offered accommodation to wedding guests in the plantation
house, it was much too big for all of them to use every inch of its space, so
they used the second floor’s rooms for bridal party changes and the unexpected
vampire guest, which was thankfully rare. Anais was also thankful right then
that she had a space to drag the mirth-rendered V to.

After a few more minutes of shoulder-racking hilarity, V
stood up and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s the funniest thing. I swear I’ve
never, ever come across it before.”

Anais was a bit exasperated at being left out of the
picture, so she just raised an elegant brow in response.

V continued, struggling to gain composure, “It seems that
the maid of honor, in preparation for the wedding, decided to lose weight so
she could fit into her dress. She says she didn’t have time to do it the
old-school way, so she went out and bought new diet pills. Only, these diet
pills are fat blockers.”

“That’s not unusual V, I’m not getting it.”

V nodded as if to say, ‘wait for it’, then proceeded once
again fighting against looming laughter, “This one’s side effect is anal
leakage.”

Anais’s lips curved in an incredulous smile, “What?”

V nodded, grinning broadly, “Yep. It seems the pills stop
fat from being absorbed but if you eat fatty food, the oil leaks out your
derriere. Our maid of honor had a bit too much of Miss Suzette and Marie’s rich
food and subsequently had an accident. Her dress is ruined.”

“
Mon Dieu
! You’re shitting me!” Anais automatically
responded. A beat, “Oh God,” she grinned at a convulsing V, “talk about a
Freudian slip!” Anais was caught between bewilderment and hilarity, the latter
won out and she joined V in clutching her stomach in silent hilarity, for fear
that the poor humiliated maid of honor heard them. Fighting for composure, she
looked around the elegantly furnished room instead of V, if she looked at her
friend, she’d crack up again. “I must say we’ve never had a problem like this
before. Why did she eat all the butter-rich food then? She’s local. She knows
what goes into Cajun cooking! And we did provide healthier options.”

“She didn’t know until she came to me in tears and we
figured it out after me probing and us googling.” V looked contrite, despite
her smirk, “We shouldn’t laugh but it is unreal! So, now what should we do? I
offered to arrange a car to take her home but she insists on staying for her
friend - an admirable trait but one that presents us with an unusual
challenge.”

Anais cocked her head to the side, contemplating, “Then the
only thing I can think of is to find her a dress and put her in an adult
diaper. The dress better not be too fitting below the waist – a classic fifties
wide-skirted dress perhaps or an empire line. Luckily we keep the diapers in
stock for our older guests with sixtieth or so anniversaries and dresses for
bridesmaids in case of accidents, though I’d never imagined we’d use both
emergency supplies together. If she’s willing to go for this, then we must get
her clear-headed enough to sign for the dress now so that she doesn’t renege
when she gets the bill. I just hope we find a dress in stock from the emergency
bridesmaid’s rail that will comfortably fit a diaper without showing it.”

--------

Crisis averted, Anais left V to tend to the ‘maid-of-honor
in distress’ and went back to check on the rest of the wedding. It was in full
swing. Wine and food were in abundance and the entire scene around her showed
beaming faces. 

Anais smiled wistfully as she noticed the bride blush at the
applause an amorous groom elicited from the guests. God, what she would’ve
given to find and hold onto that kind of love when she’d been human! Instead
life had kicked her in the ass, laughing while she floundered in its thick,
sticking mud. Finding her sisters, or rather turning them, had given her a
sense of purpose – of family. Anais’ maudlin thoughts were abruptly shut down.
Anger, cynicism, despair hit her suddenly and hard. Sucking her in, like the
sudden burn of stepping into a too hot bath.

“
Mon Dieu
, what the hell is going on with me?” Anais
thought in self-admonishment. What the hell kind of thinking is that at a
wedding of all places.

Feeling strangely panicked and a little out of depth as her
emotional control began slipping, she hastily moved towards the house driven by
the need to pull together. With each step, she felt the panic increase, she
moved faster, careful not to move at inhuman speed. She went up the double
stairs that led from the lawn pass the ground floor gallery, through the
gigantic white wooden doors and into the house.

The house was better, although the word, house, was used
loosely as mansion was a more apt description. It was empty, quieter and
calmer; the kind of serenity that came from large, well-tended spaces. If she
was going to lose control, she’d be better off doing so without an audience.
The party did not contract to use the ballroom, dining room or parlors that
they also offered as part of their venue options, preferring the exotic of the
summer outdoors on a historic plantation. So, except for the guests that would
be wandering in to use the bathroom, she was safe from inquisitive eyes.

Anais push away the panic and sought asylum in the nearest
guest bathroom just off the hallway. Through the thick fog of that horrible
feeling, cynicism slipped in and she wryly noted that no woman, vampire or
human, seemed immune from the refuge offered by the tiled haven, especially a
toilet cubicle, which she confirmed by locking herself in one. The four sides
of the cubicle helped give her the illusion of containment and at that brief
respite she unexpectedly felt tears well in her eyes. Short-lived relief gave
way to self-frustration as she yanked at the three ply to dab at her eyes. A
stray pink-stained tear escaped and she wiped it away in further irritation,
wondering about the effect her emotional bout has had on her meticulous,
under-stated make up. She had to, after all, go back out there. She had a role
to fulfil and she needed to look the part. She couldn’t just stay locked away
in the cubicle forever.

She really wanted to stay here forever though. Her
characteristic steel spine had all but melted in a messy bathroom puddle. She
now understood what was meant by wanting to crawl into a dark hole and remain
there. Contrary to many myths, vampires did not sleep in the earth. The idea of
sleeping in damp, worm-ridden earth had always grossed her out before. There
was no way her clothes would survive being subjected to nibbles from the
earth’s creatures. Her flesh may be even more alluring to the soil’s vermin.
Anais suppressed a shudder yet strangely, it was unusually appealing now. But
the solitary blanket offered by a dark, earthy hole or a toilet cubicle weren’t
options. If she stayed here, she knew the feeling would sweep her away. She
could already feel it wanting to claw its way out of her, ripping at her skin
from the inside. The feeling was awful and foreign. Not quite darkness. Not
quite sadness. It was panic and despair. A sense of desolation; of being
completely and utterly emotionally burdened. Lost. Alone. Wanting to give in
and embrace the tugging isolation and yet, fighting it because it felt so
horrible the more you fell as it sucked at you, pulling you in. No, being alone
was the easy way out and Anais did not lack courage. 

“Where did this come from?” she wondered out loud as she
walked out of the cubicle towards the antique marble basin. Normally, she
relished in the beauty of every part of the maison, bathrooms included. The
basin was nineteenth century French, adorned with gold taps to match the
antique gold mirror. She would normally take pleasure from these small
accomplishments. The house was what they’d sweated and toiled over until they’d
chased the ghosts of past away and were left with a beautiful, albeit large,
home. Today, she barely saw her surroundings. The feeling pushed and she pushed
back harder. Wracking her brain for a solution, she took a moment to lean her
long, slender arms against the cold marble. “The trick is to keep busy,” she
told her reflection in the mirror. “I might be going crazy and I might be
talking to myself but at least I can look good and fake calm while I’m at it.”

She took a quick, thorough inventory of herself, carefully
using a cold facial wipe to refresh. She’d pass. Hell, she’d more than pass.
Her long dark hair was surprisingly intact, an elegant chignon that drew the
eye to her long neck and poised shoulders, while making the most of her oval
face. The stray bang, styled that way with the purpose of creating more
cheekbones, was as she’d styled it a few hours ago. Well, she could testify
that the waterproof mascara worked as it held fast to the long, black
eye-lashes that framed her slightly large, subtly slanted brown eyes. Her
lipstick was a bit smeared from the toilet paper accidentally rubbing against
it. She smothered her small, full lips in Chanel’s legendary rouge noir
lipstick. Black Red. The perfect colour for a vampire. The color contrasted
beautifully with her pale skin and dark hair. She stood back and took another
breath, looking critically at the final result. She was honest enough to admit
that she was a beautiful woman. Her simple knee-length cocktail dress, only
added to that, allowing her to wear the dress and not the other way around.

An elegant woman made even more alluring by the magick that
ran through her vampire’s blood. A boon and goodness, today she’d take any
boons she’d get. That thought, a tinge of negativity to it, was a large enough
crack to let the feeling, angry at being subdued, swamp her. She grabbed onto
the basin as she felt herself drop to the floor, landing on her knees. Taking
deep breaths to steady her, she fought harder for composure, feeling triumphant
as she began to gain control steadily again. 

“
Anais
, what’s wrong.” A gentle, sweet voice alerted
her to her friend’s presence. Sophie, as light as Anais was dark, hurried
towards her and led her to the cream and duck-egg blue chaise lounge that graced
the space next to the vanity area, in the corner of the room. Grasping her
hands in hers, brows furrowed in concern, Sophie gave her a moment, explaining.
“I felt it. It was awful. This sudden attack of … it was such a horrible
feeling I struggle to explain… it was… hollowness. So strong, so overwhelming I
followed it here. It’s all over you, contained but a darkness leaking into your
aura.” Sophie’s sweet, empathetic blue eyes swept over Anais as she did her
inspection. “What happened? It got me worried.”