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Shadowfang came out in his cat form. He barreled forward and wound himself around my legs, purring.

“Welcome home, buddy boy,” he said.

I bent down and scratched his ears. “Hello, kitty cat.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Going back to school after spring break was torture. I still had jet lag, but Father made me go to school anyway, telling me that I needed my education. I told him that he could always teach me at home. I’d learn more there, anyway. He said that yes, we could do that, but I needed to graduate properly and learn social skills with teens my own age.

He and Louis and Grandfather had left that morning to deal with the Council-Uncle Soren was left to babysit me. He was also staying behind because of his bad temper. He said that, if he’d had his way, he’d attack the Council by force openly.

I went through my classes, sat with my usual lunch group (Duke loudly complained about not being invited to Trina Smith’s party) described my vacation in France, and told the guys about Sarah’s wings. Amara was the first to respond.

“Well, it would have happened anyway. I mean, supernaturals can’t keep their powers hidden for long, right? They’d go mad, or injure themselves.”

“She’s right,” Noah agreed. “Just by looking at Sarah, I’d say she’s learned to keep her wings hidden.”

“She can retract them into her back,” I explained. “But it hurts like hell. You should have seen the blood come out of her when they burst out of her back. Actually, I’m glad you didn’t. It was gruesome.”

“What do her wings look like?” Amara prompted.

“They’re gorgeous. They’re purple, like lilac or lavender, but they get lighter towards the tips and become more flesh-colored closer to her back.”

“I bet that’s pretty. Can she fly?”

“Yes, but she needs to learn control first. She tried to fly over the house, and nearly broke her leg when she fell on the roof. Alexander had to rescue her.”

“Will her sister get her wings?” Mason asked, resting his fist on his chin.

“Possibly. I…oh my god. Cirino. This means that Cirino is part sun fairy.”

“The baby? But it’ll be years before he-“

“We don’t know that for sure. I’ve got to tell her.”

I turned and looked at her. She was biting into a slice of apple. I got up and went over to her. As usual, her lunch group gave me a disdainful look as I approached.

“We need to talk,” I told her. “It’s not urgent, but it needs to happen rather soonish.”

“I have cheer practice tonight. Text me at five,” she replied.


And I did.

Reese: Cirino is your son. That means he’s part fairy.

Sarah: Oh my gosh. You’re right. Mom says we should have him tested.

Reese: That was quick.

Sarah: She’s reading this over my shoulder.

Reese: Tell her to keep her eyes to herself.

Sarah: She says it’s her business when it involves her children.

Reese: Of course. Well, good luck with dinner and homework.

Sarah: I will. I just have to study for a math test. Goodbye, brain!

Reese: That’s NOT funny.

Sarah: I thought it was.




When I went over to her house later that week, I went straight to Cirino. He smiled at me in his bassinet. I ignored Spunk, who was frantically licking my hand.

I bent down to the baby’s level.

“You’re special, little buddy,” I said. He frowned, then smiled again.

“Dadadada,” he said.

“You want Daddy?”

Alexander leaned forward and lifted him out of the bassinet. He smoothed back Cirino’s hair.

“Da,” the baby said.

“That’s right, I’m Daddy,” Alexander praised him. I sat next to him, and Alexander gave a little growl. He set Cirino on his lap. The baby smiled at him, reaching for him. He grabbed a lock of Alexander’s hair and pulled.

“No pulling,” Alexander told him, taking the lock of hair from him. I heard a click and turned to see that Mother had taken a picture of us. She took more pictures.

“My boys,” she cooed. “Three of my boys together, enjoying each other’s company. Reese and Alexander and Cirino. I think I will add this to my Facebook page.”

“You joined Facebook?” I asked, impressed.

“Yes, I have. Sarah is teaching me how to use it. Speak of the devil.”

“Oh, you’re here, Reese,” she said, sounding almost bored. She took her hair out of its bun, and retied it into a ponytail. “Hi, boys.”

She sat next to me. Cirino turned to her and reached out to her.

“Mamamama,” he babbled.

“Hello, son,” she said, bouncing him on her leg. “I see you’ve been playing with Daddy and Reese.”

“Ree,” Cirino said carefully, pointing to me.

“That’s right,” she said. She looked up at Alexander. “Is he advanced for his age?”

“A little bit,” Alexander said. “He should be babbling more. And he wouldn’t be pointing until he was at least a year old.”

“He’s almost a year old,” Sarah said.

I noticed that Mother was focusing on her phone.

“Mother, do you know something about this?” I asked.

She seemed embarrassed, and if it was possible for a vampire to blush, she would have been blushing.

“I have sort of…been feeding him.”

“With what?” Alexander asked cautiously.

“You know that I bought a breast pump…”

“Oh Mom, you didn’t!” Sarah cried.

“I couldn’t resist! My instincts are at an all-time high! If you were my baby, I’d have fed you the same way. I did feed Reese and Selena the same way, until Eilief told me not to show my face again.”

“So you’ve been breast-feeding him?” I asked, amazed.

She bowed her head. “I wish I could say I’m ashamed, but it’s the mark of a good mother, at least it was in my time.”

I can’t say that I sympathized, given that I don’t have the maternal instinct. A part of me understood, though. I was going to be a father. I’d want my babies to have the best food possible.


When I got home, I was stunned. Uncle Soren was on the couch, shirtless, with Mitra Dearwood. They stared at me as I passed by them.

“Don’t mind me,” I said. “I’m just passing through.”





CHAPTER NINE – GIRLS GONE WILD


I scoured Amazon in my search of the new book Paperbacks From Hell, from the author Gary Hendrix, whose new book was about the horror novels of the eighties and nineties, of which my father, cousin, and I were fans of. When I purchased the book, I then scoured Sarah’s social media for…okay, I was lurking.

I’m a huge lurker when it comes to my lovers. I did it with Evan, too. Except he wasn’t as big on Facebook or Twitter and he wasn’t a YouTuber. Sarah’s latest video was a bookshelf tour, an overview and listing of her book collection.

“Some of my books are at my boyfriend’s house,” she said. Something caught my eye. I had to replay that scene, and I saw it in the screen of her television. I saw Beckett in the television. My stomach lurched, and I downloaded the video and increased the format. I focused on the one spot in the television.

It was Beckett, all right. My heart skipped several beats, then pounded. He was stalking her. In death, he was stalking his oldest daughter.

“Uncle Soren!” I leapt up from my spot on my bed. I ran to the living room, where Mitra was softly crying, and their shirts had been replaced.

“What is it, boy?” he responded grouchily.

“Look!” I pointed to the television.

“It’s from a picture,” he said.

“But he’s looking right at her!”

“Pictures have a tendency to do that.”

“What…?”

“Mitra?”

She had come over and looked at the picture. “That’s the guy who killed Ellis! The bastard’s alive! Who is he?! Where is he?!”

“Mitra!” Uncle Soren grabbed her by the shoulders. “I will go investigate. I know where she lives. I will speak with Alexander and have extra protection placed around the home and territory.”

“But, Soren…”

“Hush, my love. It’s all right. I promise, I will fix this. Reese, send that picture to my cell phone. My personal one, not the one I use for business.”

I sent it to him.

“Good, now, stay here, my love. Reese will watch over you.” He stood up and buckled his belt. “Damn it, I’ve gained weight again. Reese, text Toby and Spencer and tell them to come over here immediately. I know that they’re on a break right now, but do it anyway.”

I sent Toby a quick emergency text and told him to come down.

“What about you?” Mitra asked. “I want to kill the guy who killed Ellis!”

“I will bring him over and interrogate him,” he said. He bent down to her level and kissed her on the lips. “Trust me.”

He grabbed his cell phone and headed for the door. “Bye, love and nephew. I will see you soon.”



Half an hour later, Toby and Spencer still hadn’t shown up, and Mitra was pacing, biting her fingernails.

“It’s all my fault,” she said, sitting on the ottoman.

“Why do you say that?” I asked. I’d sent Sarah a text, asking how she was, but she had yet to respond.

“It just is. If I wasn’t such a lousy guardian, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It could’ve happened to anybody. My stepfather is one of the oldest and most powerful vampires on earth, and there are forces even he can’t comprehend. He’s lost some fights, won most, had a son, married my mother, and adopted Sarah and Sabine.”

“You really love her, don’t you?” she asked.

“More than anything. She’s my universe. My reason for living. I’d give up everything to keep her safe.”

“I’m jealous. I’m two hundred years old, and I never had that. At least, in my vampire life.”

“What about when you were human?”

She smiled wryly. “When I was fourteen, I married a forty-year-old man. He asked specifically for my hand, because he liked my beauty and my spirit. We had a daughter, but the white men took her away.” She grimaced. “They would have taken me, too, but my husband, who was named Katonah, hid me in a secret bunker under the ground which he’d secretly dug for us.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I miss my daughter every day. We named her Cholena. Nana is technically my descendant through her.”

“Is it weird, living with your some-great-grandchildren?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I wished I’d died a human death. Then I could have died in peace. But no, Katonah had to bite me after he was bitten because he couldn’t bear to live without me.”

“What was your name?”

She ducked her head. “I don’t remember.”

“Okay, I won’t push it. I don’t believe you, but I won’t push it.”

“I’m trying to hide from Katonah.”

“He’s still alive?”

“Of sorts. He’s basically a nut now, due to…” She looked at me uncertainly.

“Porphyria?” I asked. “It’s okay. I mean, I know it won’t happen now, but it might happen.”

“Are you afraid?”

“Terrified. What if I hurt someone I love? What if, when I eventually turn Sarah, I pass it along to her? I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“But it’s not your fault that you have it.”

“Right, and this…mess…is not your fault, either, Mitra. I know that my uncle has probably said it, and you probably don’t believe him, but it’s the truth.”

“Who passed it to you?”

“We think my father, though we’re not sure where he picked it up.”

“How many relatives do you have?”

“Too many. Half of them don’t like me. The ones that do like me, I live with, or visit frequently.”

Mitra inhaled, then exhaled. “I have to go find him.”

“Uncle Soren? I’m sure he’s fine.”

“I know. But I still want to check on him.”

“All right, I’ll come with you.”


We ran to the Nicolai house, discovering too late that it was a bloodbath. My uncle had a piece of wood sticking out of his midsection, and Sarah was knelt next to him, tears running down her cheeks. I ran to Sarah and embraced her, Mitra running to Uncle Soren.

“What do I do?!”

“Nothing,” Uncle Soren grunted. “It’s Socotra wood.”

Sarah gasped, Mitra’s eyes filled with tears. I turned to find the source of my family’s distress. Alexander and Beckett Cresley were faced against each other, glaring.

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