All Chapters of So You Think Your Sister's a Vampire?: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

The chapel was a quaint little building set off to one end of the complex, a bit of a walk but not too far. There were flowers everywhere on the outside in shades of pink and purple, yellow and white. A weeping willow on either side of a winding path seemed inviting, and the building itself reminded me of a cottage out of a fairy tale. It was nice.“Your grandmother designed this building,” Dad whispered as we followed other people up the cobblestone sidewalk. “After Grandpa died, she decided it would be nice to have a little place to remember those who gave everything for the cause.”The way my dad said that reminded me of the type of phrases people say on Veteran’s Day, or maybe if they were fighting against the Empire. I thought, in a way, this was a sort of a war. I hadn’t really considered it that way before.Next to the door was a little placard that read, “Jordan L. Findley Memorial Chapel.” I thought that w

“Where did everyone go?” Cadence asked, looking around like she didn’t realize she’d been gone for so long.“We’re having a luncheon at the main building in a few minutes,” Hannah explained, stopping in front of them. I took a few steps closer so I was pretty near behind her and the rest of my family followed. “Is everything all right?” Hannah asked.“Yes. Fine. Why?” Cadence asked as Aaron stepped around her and headed over toward the guys.I had no idea why my sister was being so dense. Why did she not expect her friends and family to be worried when she rushed out of a funeral? I stepped up beside Hannah, ready to have her back when she told my sister she was being dumb. Hannah began, “You took off out of here so quickly I just wondered if...” but halfway through, she switched tracks as her eyes landed on the same thing I was just noticing. “Oh, my goodness, Cadence! What's th

My sister’s boyfriend—scratch that—fiancé--really is magical. The more time I spend around people on his team, the more I realize that. I was super impressed that he somehow managed to coordinate the cleaning and redecorating of an empty apartment a few floors below Cadence’s while also attending his best friend’s memorial service so that by the time we got back from the luncheon, my parents’ belongings had all been resituated in what seemed like an expansive hotel room. Cadence let me keep my stuff in her apartment, though. She said I could stay in the guest room, which was awesome because I hadn’t had the chance to see her much lately.Most of the rest of the day was a blur, though there was definitely a lot of sitting around chatting. After several hours at the luncheon, my parents, Cadence, Aaron, and I headed back to my sister’s apartment, and there was more chatting. I had taken a lot of pictures of the place on my

I couldn’t help but smile, thinking about Cadence and Elliott working together to kill some awful Vampire that, in my mind, looked a lot like Bela Lugosi. “Why is that?” I asked, wondering why that was such a crucial event.“Well, I didn’t realize he was taking me out there just to scare me. Apparently, this Vampire, Barbarosa, has killed a lot of Hunters over the years. He lived in this creepy old house out in the middle of nowhere, and it was like a maze on the inside. So, when I wasn’t scared and thought it was just a typical hunt, Elliott tried to talk me out of it. My instincts had already kicked in, though, and I was in full slayer mode. So… I went in after Barbarosa, and chased him all through this labyrinth and out the other side. He was almost out the door when Elliott cut him off. Barbarosa had him by the neck, and while he couldn’t kill Elliott, it couldn’t have been comfortable. I had to be super careful when

“When we walked into the woods that night, Elliott knew there was a possibility this was all a farce, too. But he still thought we should go through with it,” Aaron continued.I nodded, understanding that he was saying Elliott took the same calculated risk they all did. “So… can you tell me what happened, or is it too hard to talk about?” I had an idea now. I wasn’t sure that I even wanted him to tell me anymore, certainly not the details, but I also didn’t want to tell him to stop talking now that he was.“Sam shot him.” He said it like it was a fact from a history book. If I had asked, “Who shot Abraham Lincoln?” and his response was, “Booth shot him,” it couldn’t have sounded any more dispassionate. But I couldn’t blame him. He was a facts kinda guy, and I was asking him to talk about something that wasn’t just factual to him. It was emotional and real and it really, rea