A Vampyre's Sunrise - Jeff Schanz (8 ebook reader .txt) 📗

Rollins had a cheekful of pancake mush when Manny came through the door. Manny Castillo was the team leader and founder of Castillo VIP Security. A former Army sergeant like Brandt, but from a different unit, he was as reliable and trustworthy as they came. Also strict with his men.

“Rollins!” barked Manny. “Goddamnit, I wanted you out on the Southside perimeter two minutes ago.”

Rollins froze for a moment, cheeks still full, cocked a pleading eyebrow at Manny, and pointed his fork in Lia’s direction. Manny sighed.

“Mrs. D?” started Manny, plaintively.

“That is my fault, Mr. Castillo,” said Lia without turning from her cooking. “I wanted Mr. Richards to finish his meal since he is a large man and it takes a lot more nourishment to fulfill his energy requirements.”

Rollins nodded, taking a tentative chew.

Lia continued. “I promise you, Mr. Castillo, Mr. Richards will be at his post as soon as he is done. Would fifteen more minutes be asking too much?”

Manny sighed and closed his eyes. “Mrs. D. This is my team,” said Manny, but not with conviction. He was about to finish his sentence when Lia interrupted.

“And this is my house you are protecting, Mr. Castillo,” she said. “And in this house, I treat people like family, and no one goes hungry. And Mr. Richards takes longer to complete that promise.”

Manny was trying not to argue, distressed to find a way to express himself without offending Lia. Brandt would’ve laughed if he thought he’d get away without an admonishing stare from his wife.

“Mrs. D, all my team appreciate your hospitality, and we all love your cooking – a little too much.” Manny shot Rollins a glare.

Rollins shrunk a little, but kept chewing.

Manny continued. “But I can’t have my team coming and going whenever they want. It’s part of the job to be on time.”

“I understand, Mr. Castillo,” said Lia.

“Manny, please, Mrs. D. I’ve asked before. Just Manny.”

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal, Mr. Castillo. I’ll call you Manny, and from now on, I’ll insist Mr. Richards comes to the kitchen fifteen minutes earlier so he may finish the three servings he requires from now on.” Three servings? “And in return, he gets fifteen extra minutes today.”

Manny wanted to stick his face in his palm. There was no arguing with Lia. She would find a way to get you on board with whatever she wanted if her mind was set. And this was her house. Her turf. She was the absolute queen of this ranch and the matriarch of the immediate Dekker family. Lia was also the defacto boss of the men who called themselves VIP Security, who, unbeknownst to them, had become her adopted sons. Each of them treated her like she was a kind of second mother. Never mind that she was a beautiful, twenty-one-year-old-looking girl that would tempt any one of them if they didn’t know who she was. But they did know. And in this house, she was the empress, and no one had illusions otherwise. After all, she did have Romanov in her blood, so it wasn’t that much of a stretch.

Manny hung his head, grimaced, and nodded subtly. Smart boy.

“Ok,” said Manny. “Fifteen more minutes, today only. And then his ass gets outside.”

“Remember, we don’t swear in my house, Manny.” It was an admonishment, but done with a smile.

“Yes, Mrs. D.”

Billy had quietly slipped past Manny and the door while the argument ensued. He started jogging to his post at the front gate.

“Thank you, Manny,” said Lia.

The whole time she was talking, she had kept her back to Manny with only her head turned to him. She now turned completely toward him and held a disposable plate covered in steaming pancakes, plus a small pile of bacon on top. Another plate was placed face down against it and the package was wrapped in tin foil. Lia approached Manny and handed him the foil-wrapped package.

“No one in my house goes hungry either, Manny,” she said. “You haven’t eaten breakfast and were too proud to ask me. You know better.”

Manny received the plates and held them to his chest. He looked down at them, lost for a response. Lia reached up and kissed his forehead gently.

“You can’t do a good job protecting us if you’re hungry. Especially when I have made your bacon extra crispy just how you like it, and put chocolate chips in your pancakes.”

Manny suddenly looked up into her eyes. Uh oh. No one survives Lia’s eyes.

Lia’s smile was maternal and almost as wide as her ears. “You can’t fool me, Manuel Castillo. It’s perfectly ok that tough soldiers like chocolate chips in their pancakes.”

Manny looked like he might just tear up. Over chocolate?

Rollins stopped chewing and looked at Brandt. He mouthed, “There’s chocolate chips?”

Manny subtly shook his head, a smile creasing his face. “My mother made me pancakes on special occasions when I was a kid. We didn’t have no money for chocolate, so my mother hid some so my father wouldn’t know. She only put chocolate chips in my pancakes when he went to work. It was my favorite. But I never told anybody.” He shook his head at her, confused how she knew.

“I’m magic,” said Lia. She gave him another lip smack on his forehead. “Now go out there and keep us safe. There’s a plastic fork and napkin in there so you can eat while you patrol. Shoo.”

Manny nodded with a smile, forgetting his attempt at masking his emotions. “Yes, Mrs. D. And thank you.”

Manny turned to Brandt and gave him a half-smile, sharp nod, and lidded stare that was the manly equivalent of “Dude, your wife is pretty awesome.”

Brandt gave the half-smile, sharp nod, and lidded stare back that answered, “Dude, I know.”

Manny went out the door and Rollins swallowed the last bite of his current plate of pancakes. Brandt had been so engrossed in the conversation, he had only managed to eat half a slice of bacon.

Rollins probably assumed Brandt wasn’t hungry because he asked quietly, “You gonna finish those, sir?”

Brandt pinched his brows in the silent man equivalent of, “Dude!”

“Rollins B. Richards?” called Lia.

Full name. Not good, bud.

Rollins’s eyes widened. “Yes, ma’am?”

“I have another batch of pancakes that I am making just for you. One more minute, and I will hand them to you. My husband’s breakfast is not for sharing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sooner than she had promised, she placed yet another plate of pancakes on the table in front of Rollins. “There,” she said. “I suggest you do away with etiquette for speedier consumption so you will make Manny’s gracious deadline.”

Rollins grinned and nodded. “Woof it down. Roger that, ma’am.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “And we talked about this, Mr. Richards. Ma’am sounds too much like an old lady to me. I am Lia, or Mrs. Dekker, or perhaps Mrs. D, as Manny likes to call me. Not ma’am, please.”

Rollins bit his lips, trying not to look lost. “I’m sorry, ma… Uh, Mrs. Dekker. But it’s hard for me. I was raised to call all ladies ‘ma’am.’ It’s just respectful. I got a beatin’ when I was disrespectful. And I like you way too much, ma’am – er, Mrs. Dekker, not to be respectful.”

She frowned and looked at Brandt. He nodded at her with a little paternal grimace. Let the poor man say what he was raised to say.

Lia sighed and blew a blast of air that swept away a stray lock of hair.

“Oh, alright,” she said in mock exasperation. She smiled and kissed the top of his bald head. “Just for you, and only you, I am ma’am.”

Rollins was noticeably relieved. For a huge, intimidating man, he could sometimes be such a kid. And in Lia’s company, he reverted to that state. A giant bear groveling next to an elfin waif.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, and meant it. “And, uh – can I ask a favor?”

Lia raised her brows. “Yes?”

“Since you’re calling Manny, Manny, can you, uh, call me just Rollins? It don’t feel right you callin’ me Mister. I ain’t that old.”

Considering Lia had about 90 years on Rollins which he had no idea about, Brandt had to stifle his laugh. No, big guy, you’re not.

“Alright, Rollins,” she said.

Lia patted his shoulder and went back to the sink. Rollins checked his watch, then shoveled in the remainder of his breakfast. Brandt finally tucked into his.

The kitchen eventually cleared. Brandt had eaten more than he would prefer, mentally trying to calculate the extra amount of reps he would need to do to work off the meal. Lia had turned into an exceptional cook. She had once told Brandt that she had memorized everything she ever read, and she had read a lot of cookbooks, even though she didn’t need to eat. A couple of meals on the island had apparently awakened the dormant chef in her, and now she was as loved for her food as she was for her sweet demeanor. She never failed to bring something for any security guard that might be hungry or thirsty while on duty. They all brought their own lunches and dinners for a while, but after Lia’s cooking got into them, they all began to anticipate something yummy being brought out to them. It was shameful to most professionals to think that way, but Lia made it hard to argue the point. She loved having men to take care of, and although the men were hardened warriors who had all killed men during their military service, she treated them like puppies, and they loved it.

When Brandt had hired VIP Security, he had convinced Lia it was fairly standard for large ranches to have armed security. And of course, it was added insurance against residual vengeance seekers from the old cartel. The real selling point was the promise that the men would be like extended family. Lia was excited at the thought and took the idea to heart. The men became her “boys.”

She had started with “Breakfast Mondays,” insisting on treating her new “boys” to a full breakfast once a week. That eventually got expanded to Fridays as well. And then Rollins started showing up every morning to “just check in.” He would be “surprised” when Lia invited him to sit down and eat whatever she had already prepared. Rollins was on duty five days a week, and became regularly “surprised” on each of those mornings. Manny had tried to refrain from being drawn into the kitchen, but Lia wasn’t letting any of her boys off the hook. Manny got something offered to him whether he asked or not. And most every time he accepted it and appreciated it. He was just a proud man, and had a hard time admitting he liked having a woman care for him.

Manny was divorced. His wife had been sleeping with other married men. As a result, he was sensitive to getting too close to other men’s wives.

But Lia wasn’t about to let Manny keep his distance from her. He was one of her boys too, and as long as he would accept what she offered him, she was alright with him being secretive about his desire for her cooking. She had spent so many years in solitude and relative silence on her island, she relished having a full house, and reveled in taking care of everyone.

And it wasn’t like she had nothing else to do. She was a full-time author. She also did research and experiments in her lab, presumably working on a cure for vampyrism, and analyzing Mikhail’s elixir. Plus, she helped out around the ranch, even though the ranch manager they hired, Mr. Johns, had that covered. He let her help more as a favor than out of need simply because he and Brandt knew it contributed to Lia’s happiness. Control over her world made Lia happy. For one hundred years, hiding in fear of Mikhail, Lia didn’t have control of her life or situation, and now that she did, she was ecstatic about it. Brandt was just as