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“Mm-hmm.”
After V lit up, the brother all but poked Zsadist in the eye with his cigarette as he emphasized, “Okay, see,thisis why I don’t tutor. You go to Luchas House, because Rhage’sshellanasks you to, and no one says no to fucking Mary, and the next thing you know, you’ve got some kid sleeping down the hall from you and your mate, and you’re all like worried about his scrawny ass and the fact that he doesn’t talk about where his parents are or what happened to them—oh, and you’re not asking him about that bullshit because you want him reunited with them.” V pinwheeled with that lit tip of his. “Nooooo, you’re asking because you’re terrified that they’ll show up and it won’t be like Ruhn and Bitty and Rhage and Mary, no, you’re shitting yourself because what if the parents take him home—wherever the fuck that might be—and if that happens, you’re going to have to pick yourshellanup off the ground because she’ll be fucking heartbroken, oversomething you told her you two shouldn’t do in the first place.”
The last part was said with emphasis on every syllable, that hand-rolled going aerobic with the jabs. And then V kept going.
“My Jane is going to getfuckedin the head if that kid leaves us, or dies during his transition, or”—furious eyes pegged Z in the face—“some asshole likeyougets a bright idea about taking him out into the field. Which isneverhappening, got it? I’ll try that lock a thousand times over before I let him get slaughtered in that fucking nasty-ass basement full oflesserblood.”
The brother paused for a deep breath, then took a drag that was so long and deep, it was a wonder smoke didn’t start coming out of his ass.
“And fuck you, Z, with your perfect family, okay. Just because it worked out for you, doesn’t mean anybody else is going to be so lucky with their young. Not that he’s mine.Fuck.”
Zsadist glanced over his shoulder again at Allhan. Then he sat down in the vacant chair next to the desk. “Nalla isn’t speaking to me, I think she’s moved out of our house, and she’s dating Nate.”
Cue the whiplash.
Then V leaned forward. “Say…what?”
“Don’t make me repeat it. You heard the shit right the first time, and it was hard enough to get through once.”
“Jesus.”
“My point is, don’t romanticize anybody else. And I get how much it drives you crazy when you think something is wrong with them or about to happen to them. Or when they seem farther away than the Old Country when they’re still physically in the same zip code as you.”
“Nate?”
“Kill me now.”
Vishous sat back in his chair. Then picked up the little porcelain dish of fresh hand-rolls and extended it forward.
“No, thanks.”
“You sure?” The brother put the thing back. “It’s easier than homicide and at least vampires don’t get cancer.”
Zsadist rubbed his tired eyes. “I haven’t slept for two days, and no matter how much I run the conversation through in my head, I’m not coming up with any great ways to patch things up. I still think that male is a total loser, and she is always going to believe that I hate everyone she’s going to be with.”
“Well… don’t you?”
“Of course I hate them. But she doesn’t need to know that.”
V tapped his cig over his ashtray. “It is entirely possible, my brother, that you overplayed your hand with protecting her against males.”
“Yeah, if that was your daughter, would you want her to date someone like us?”
“Fuck no.”
Z motioned a there-ya-go. “And here’s the only thing I’ve learned about being a parent: It’s too late for us.”
“Well, that’s encouraging,” came the dry response. “Please tell me more.”
“The instant they come into your life, whether they’re born to you,or adopted by you, or somehow their paths cross yours, it’s too late. No going back. A piece of your fucking heart is out in the world running into things, getting run over, falling off heights, getting sick, falling in love with the wrong person. And you can’t stop them from living. So I guess you just have to suck it up, I don’t know. I really don’t.”
Vishous stared off into space. “Can I ask you something? While we’re talking about this subject—which, P.S., we will never talk about again. Ever.”
“Hit me.” Shit knew he couldn’t feel worse.
“Was it true that you threatened to castrate Bronwyn the Younger’s kid at the Winter Festival eight years ago because he was going to ask Nalla to dance.”
Z ground his molars. “Absolutely not.” When V cocked a brow, he shook his head. “No.”
