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“I’m joking, we don’t want your money.” Katrina returned to kneading the dough with renewed vigor.
“Gods, you’re as bad as Mom and Dad,” Tor laughed. As he spoke, his parents walked in. His father was using crutches, his neck still in a brace, looking wan but cheerful.
Tor drew over a heavy carved wooden armchair for his dad to sit down in, and then one for his mom.
“Good news.” His mom flopped into the chair. “The scans show there’s no damage to his brain. Just mild concussion and a vertebrae in his neck knocked a bit sideways. Now he needs to take it easy and recover.” She glared fiercely at Tor’s dad. “So you will do as you’re told, and no more climbing ladders.”
His dad jerked a thumb at her with a grimace. “She’s a hard task mistress, this one.”
Katrina, having plonked the dough into pans, started to peel potatoes. “Tor and I are making dinner. Well, I’m making dinner. Tor’s stirring the pot.”
“Nothing new in that,” Dad smirked as he sat and stretched his plastered leg out in front of him.
“Dad, you’ll never guess what.” Tor saw where his sister was going with this. She couldn’t keep anything to herself, not that he’d told her it was a secret. “Tor’s buying Orc Island.”
His dad chortled. “Dream on, boy.” Tor supposed he should let his parents go on believing it was a joke. Like Katrina, they really had no idea of his wealth, despite the copious amounts of money he put in their bank account.
“Yeah, maybe I am dreaming.” Tor let it go with a shrug. “But Dad, I went there—Orc Island—yesterday, just to look around. It hasn’t changed at all.”
His dad sighed wistfully. “Ah, it’s been a long while. If I still had my boat…”
“Now who’s dreaming?” his mom snorted as she got up to cast her eye over the stew. “You can’t keep your clumsy feet firmly on a ladder, can you imagine what would happen to you out at sea?”
Dad rolled his eyes, then his face went almost dreamy. “How was it? Were the waterfalls running?”
“Gushing. Must have been a lot of rain lately.”
“See any greks?”
Tor thought about Shona’s worried voice when she heard snuffling animals in the dark. His lips twitched. “Nah, maybe heard one.”
“So you went by boat?” His dad’s eyes lit up with memories.
Tor scowled. “Yeah, we went by boat. With a dishonest low-life selkie who left me and my…” He hesitated. My. The possessive word felt good on his tongue. He cleared his throat. “I took my realtor, Shona Dove.”
“Is she pretty?” Mom piped up brightly. “Most humans have such lovely hair.” She sighed, patting her thinning hair in its wispy green bun.
Tor felt his cheeks heating, but luckily Katrina cut in. “Mom, these days we go on talent, and skill. It’s not all about catching an orc male, having them drag you around by your hair, then mate with you.”
Their mom huffed a sigh. “Sorry, love. I’ll try and remember times have changed.”
As the delicious smell of the stew filled the house, Lucia arrived and kisses were exchanged. Tor liked the way Lucia behaved with his family. Calm and laid-back, not trying to claim the limelight like most vampires.
Which made him grind his molars remembering his conversation with Shona about her ex. It made no sense why he felt this protective toward her. But then, another little part of him reasoned, why question it? Heck, he liked the way it made his big chest swell, wanting to go in to battle for her.
“Grub’s up,” Katrina said finally, hooking the huge iron pot of stew onto the table. Everyone sat down and broke bread and slopped it in their stew. Loud chomping and slurping sounds abounded as they ate. Tor had forgotten how totally relaxed orc eating habits were. In Selig, with wining and dining, he’d trained himself to eat in a civilized fashion, instead of scooping food into his mouth with a cleg, the large wooden spoon that orcs traditionally used.
He was quite glad he’d learned better eating habits. Orc table habits were another thing that could potentially put off a human partner. Still, now he was at home… it was kinda nice to let those standards relax a bit.
“Guess what, Lucia? Tor’s going to buy an island,” Katrina announced between gulps of stew. Gods, why couldn’t his sister cut out the island-buying conversation?
Lucia looked at him now, her fine brows elevating. “Really?”
He shrugged, and kept eating, hoping the conversation would go no further. He was okay with his family knowing, he knew they wouldn’t spread the news. But Lucia—well, she wasn’t an orc, was she? Besides, he had no idea if he could actually buy Orc Island, he just had bull-headed orc confidence. And money.
“Yeah, he’s serious,” Katrina continued, and Tor sighed inwardly. “He reckons he’s going to buy Green—I mean, Orc Island.”
Lucia’s dark eyes appraised him, surprised. “That’s interesting.”
