Page 21 of Death Dance

Everyone sighed.

Clarke shook his head. “I wish you the best of luck with her, boy. At least offering yourself as dessert should bring her home most nights.”

“It’s most days I’m worried about now that she has figured out how to stay up past her bedtime,” Emerick complained.

Clarke smirked, and I interpreted his expression as a warning he had no intention of teaching my mother how to resist the sun anytime soon. “I plan to preserve my quiet mornings for as long as possible. When she wishes to learn how to resist the sun, she will. Until then, I will enjoy being her pillow when it’s time for her to get her rest. After caring for an infant vampire for so long, I figure she’ll get tired of sleeping the day away in ten or so years.”

“I’m thinking fifteen unless I want to work on one of my projects, then I’ll think about resisting the sun,” my mother replied, and she smiled at her new partner.

It sank in that I had two fathers to contend with.

One had been difficult enough.

With luck, Clarke would be busy keeping my mother happy and forget I existed most of the time. I could work with being forgotten unless the situation demanded it. Determined to hide my discomfort, I focused on getting my hands on my food, which Emerick continued to prepare.

Making a run at the mashed potatoes earned me a slap to the hand.

I scowled at my husband, and to make it clear I needed to be fed sooner than later, I hissed at him.

“Now imagine this except she’s seven years old. Instead of a mashed potato volcano, she was after my steak. Her next step is to bite.”

“Should she bite, she will surely become distracted from her mundane meal in favor of dessert. Then I kindly ask you all to leave, and my evening becomes quite nice. I do not mind where this progression takes me.”

I grinned over Emerick’s commentary. “I believe my mother is correct. Until this Breckenan bastard falls, we should stay focused, and that means we simply do not have time to attend to bedroom activities. I’m sure we will be forgiven when we vanish off for a few nights following his demise.” I leaned towards my husband and whispered, “I’ll even wear a particularly little dress you pick out to celebrate.”

“Ben, put together a team to help Darius secure this woman Breckenan is interested in. Maybe we can save her from a bad end, unlike the other victims. Work with my maker to get Annora, Gerry, and Edgar over to Europe, and see if you can reach out to the hunting broods about making certain Breckenan’s days are numbered. The brood that brings us Breckenan’s head will receive an invitation to the wedding, of course. Mr. Francis, how many uncles of yours do you think I can sacrifice to the broods?”

“That depends entirely on what you mean by sacrifice,” my father admitted. “Also, you can call me Charlie. It was amusing testing your nerve, but you’ve earned it. I will also accept Dad, Father, or Papa.”

“Use Papa when you know you’re up to your neck in shit with him,” Benoit advised. “That usually pleases him enough he will at least consider the reasoning for your poor behavior before issuing a punishment.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll use Charlie in private and Mr. Francis to maintain exterior appearances.”

“Good. So, how do you wish to sacrifice my family?”

“In Europe, many broods have unwed daughters of vampires; they were conceived prior to their turning or made use of sperm banks to preserve their chance to have female offspring. Some of these daughters are interested in being turned and are in their mid forties or older. Should I be able to secure a potential courtship with one of your uncles…”

My father raised a brow and turned to Darius. “Well?”

“I must applaud that level of cunning ruthlessness, young Emerick. It’s a good plan, and it will bring out every vampire with a daughter to give her the best chance of turning. However, we will also offer to oversee the turnings of all women in the victorious brood, prioritizing those who are older to make certain they have the best chance possible. Blood donors will be an issue, however.”

My husband waved off the concern before putting the final touches on my hot chicken sandwich and sliding it across the counter my way. “It will be no issue. That will be part of our offer; the Lowrance brood will provide the blood needed to aid in their rising. We are becoming quite adept at handling newly turned women, and we can get the support of the brides broods as well.”

I fell upon my snack, pausing long enough to snatch a fork, knife, and spoon.

“Had I not witnessed her eat yesterday, I would be accusing you of starving my daughter,” my mother admitted. “However, I question this level of hunger.”

I considered growling to show my mother how I felt about her comment, but I worried about chewing without choking.

My father chuckled. “I am sure it’s fine. We all have a case of the nerves, and if eating helps her conquer them, then let her eat. It’s not as though she’ll be at any real risk of gaining weight. Just rein her in should she start trying to gnaw on you.”

I swallowed, fetched a drink of water, and had a sip. “Dessert is for savoring,” I announced. “We might need to invest in a turkey farm, Emerick.”

“If a turkey farm is what you would like, a turkey farm is what you shall get. And how are our turkeys being raised?”

“They will be prince and princess turkeys who live in a nice stretch of forest so they can be happy until it’s time for them to be my supper,” I requested. “And if there are any really nice or pretty turkeys, they become pets, safe from my gluttony. Every year, we’ll visit the farm and pick a nice or pretty turkey. It’s my version of the turkey pardon.” I paused in my feeding frenzy to regard him with wide eyes. “Could we have a turkey once every two weeks if we owned a turkey farm?”

“You can have a turkey every two weeks now. We do not need a turkey farm for this to become a plan.”