Enthralled: Paranormal Diversions (Wicked Lovely 5.50)

Faye had been sure, and had shaped them all according to her vision. Now, with success, her vision had expanded, become as huge and glittering as one of the onscreen projections of their concerts. It was hard to know what lay behind that vision.

But that wasn’t this interviewer’s business, and things were better now with his family. Rory owned the band’s CD, and the new single. They were proud of him, Mum said when she called him. She’d started calling him more and more often after their first single had hit the charts. Everything was fixed between them, and he’d see them soon.

“Really?” asked Christie, sweet as candied arsenic. “I understood that after you, ahem, transitioned into an alternative state—is that the term you prefer?”

“I prefer ‘became a vampire.’”

“Well, since you . . . did that, I understood that your brother was afraid to have you in the house, and your mother threw you out?”

“I said she didn’t throw me out!” Christian shouted.

There was a blur of movement on the television screen, away from Bradley and toward Christie. Then all movement ceased.

It took Christian a second to realize this was because Faye had pressed pause.

She flicked the light on.

“Well, one could call that a very successful interview. If one also wanted to call the voyage of the Titanic a lovely pleasure cruise. Can anyone tell me what Christian did wrong?”

Pez put up his hand. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Thank you for that valuable contribution,” Faye told him. “And no, you may not. Just because I feel like being unkind. Anybody else? Josh.”

“He menaced that poor woman with his vampire powers,” Josh said in a low voice.

“Exactly,” Faye said. “Exactly! He moved too fast and loomed over her, and she was scared and stumbled back, and he did it all on camera! Can you all tell me what he looked like?”

“A vampire,” Christian remarked drily.

“Exactly!” Faye said again. “That’s exactly my point.”

If Christian had still been human, he would’ve bitten his lip, but he’d learned the hard way that that was extremely painful as a vampire.

“Faye, I am a vampire.”

“That’s absolutely no excuse,” Faye said sharply.

Christian stared.

“You see, Christian, being a vampire in the context of a boy band is a lot like knocking boots.”

“What?”

Bradley, who had been lounging across three seats at once, leaned over and whispered helpfully, “She means making love, Chris.”

Christian transferred his horrified stare to Bradley.

“You guys are a boy band,” Faye said. “Your job is to make girls think about sex, dream about sex. Your clothes and attitudes are meant to suggest sex. Under no circumstances are you to be caught actually having sex with one of these deeply under-age fans. If possible, I would like no indication to appear that you ever really have sex at all.”

“By caught, do you mean there should be no visual evidence?” Bradley inquired. “Like photos or say, hypothetically speaking, videos released online involving whipped cream?”

Faye looked appalled.

“Whoops,” said Bradley. “Oh well.”

Faye visibly made the decision to ignore this. “Or the way Pez, who is doing an excellent job portraying the perfect stoner drummer, is not permitted to take real drugs. And he very seldom actually does so!”

They all turned and looked at Pez, sleepy-eyed under his crown of dreadlocks. He gave them all a double thumbs-up.