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“As they should. Cats rule, dogs drool,” I say, scanning the kitchen before asking in a softer voice, “Punky isn’t here, is she?”
“No, she’s down in Blaire’s spell room, napping by the fire,” he says. I’m not surprised he knows exactly where Darcy’s cat is. Punky and Edmond are close—she’s the one who keeps him up to date on the Blackmore clan gossip while he’s out of town—and I’ve come upon the two of them deep in conversation more than once.
I love Punky, but it’s a relief she’s out of ear shot. “Good,” I say, my shoulders relaxing. “She gets so cranky anytime someone says the d-o-g word lately.”
“I suspect she fears encroachment on territory she views as her own.” His tone dips meaningfully as he adds, “Territory she already isn’t best pleased to be sharing with a house kraken and a poorly behaved Victorian ghost child…”
I wave a dismissive hand. “Oh, whatever, Peter is a doll and Kitty cooks, so Punky needs to get over herself. Tell her if it comes down to ousting a pet who cooks and cleans and one who sheds black hair on every available surface and puked in Amy’s shoes twice last week, I think we all know who’s going to be hitting the trail.” I lean in, adding, “But seriously, we love Punky. Don’t really tell her that. I’m just cranky because I’m sick of telling Amy we can’t have a dog. Our next-door neighbor in Vegas had the sweetest little pug. Amy used to play with him almost every day. Now, whenever she sees a dog in a book or cartoon, she starts begging me to get a puppy.”
Edmond nods. “Then a puppy she shall have. Is there a certain breed she prefers?”
I shake my head and lift a warning finger. “No, Edmond. No way. You can’t get her a puppy.”
“I most certainly can. I told you, I intend to spoil Amy rotten from now until Christmas and a puppy is a perfect place to start.”
The words remind me of how little time we have left, sending a wave of nausea through my empty stomach. The thought of losing him makes me physically ill. I have to find a way to keep that curse from coming true, which means I don’t have time to house train a puppy.
“No,” I say more firmly. “We have enough going on right now without adding a new family member to the mix. The puppy can wait. Or maybe we’ll just make Punky dress up in a dog costume a couple times a week and call it good.” I reach for the massive book, sliding it in front of me and creaking open the heavy cover. “Now, which part of this beast should I dive into first?” I skim the first page, my brain already protesting the effort of deciphering whatever ancient form of English this is. “Surely, I don’t have to start from the beginning when the Shadowbanes lived in ice caves in Norway in prehistoric times, do I?”
“I suggest you go to sleep and let Annie guide you in the morning,” he says, his hand drifting up to cup my cheek, sending another vicious pang of longing twisting through my chest. “You look tired.”
“You look tired,” I counter, even though he looks as effortlessly perfect as always. He’s a golden god. Or maybe a golden demon, sent by the devil to make we mere humans feel self-conscious about our dark circles, chapped lips, and the weird rash we get on our chins every time the ragweed is blooming.
He grunts. “Well, if so, it’s your fault. Seeing you in danger causes me stress and as any supermodel will tell you, stress is bad for the complexion.”
“It really is.” I shift in my chair until our knees brush under the table and fake a scandalized gasp. “In fact, I think you have a vampire zit right there on your cheek.”
His lips twitch. “I do not.”
I nod, fighting a grin. “Oh, yes, you do. It’s huge. You might want to let me touch it up with makeup in the bathroom before you leave. Don’t want the other vampires making fun of you when you get home.”
“Such an occurrence would be physiologically impossible,” he says, his face drifting closer to mine.
“That’s what you guys said when Baron got Annie pregnant the first time and now, she’s already knocked-up again.”
His hand settles on my thigh, making my pulse spike. “Annie’s magic was responsible for that anomaly.”
“Yeah, well, who’s to say I don’t have special powers, too?” I murmur as I lift my chin. “Special vampire uglifying powers that I’ll use to chip away at vampire confidence one blemish at a time?”
“You’re diabolical,” he says, the way his voice caresses the word making my nipples tighten, begging for caresses of their own.
I’m about to crawl into his lap and demand he stop pushing me away and kiss me properly when the front door flies open and Blaire rushes in, “Don’t get too comfortable folks. We’re moving to the Blackmore mansion. Tonight.”
Chapter Five
EDMOND
Iconcentrate on logistical matters—helping Punky pack up her things before she crawls into Darcy’s arms, assuring the ghost child that his new family will return as soon as the house is safe for the living, and carrying a sleeping Amy down to the stroller Casey has waiting on the front walk.
I don’t think about how close I came to kissing Casey or the fact that we’re going to be sleeping under the same roof for the foreseeable future.
If I think about her asleep down the hall in one of those faded-t-shirt and little cotton panties combos she prefers, I’ll go mad. I’ll lose all sense of reason and responsibility and take her in that big, canopied bed.
Or maybe against the wall by the door if we can’t wait that long…
The sexual tension between us is so thick, it’s like a third person, jostling between us as we board the tram that trundles up to the mansion, daring me to break my promises. Thankfully, Annie, Baron, and Aurora are also on board, keeping me safe from myself…for now.
Annie yawns, drooping against Baron’s shoulder. On his other side, Aurora sleeps the stubborn sleep of exhausted infants everywhere, drooling as peacefully on her father’s shoulder as she would in her own bed.
