AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She nodded. “I don’t ever want to become like Sassy has. Promise me that?”
“I promise, if you do, I’l put a stop to it.” Fal ing silent for a moment, I gazed at her. My daughter.
I’d birthed a monster, but she was also a caring, vibrant person. Trying to lighten the mood, I added, “Come on. You’re in for a treat.”
As I led her upstairs, I wondered how things were going to shake out with Sassy. But after Erin’s disclosure, I wasn’t going to worry myself over the socialite’s reaction. She had bigger problems than losing a houseguest.
Iris was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner. Morio was helping her. The smel of roast beef permeated the air, along with mashed potatoes and gravy and a Dutch apple pie. I glanced at Erin, who was eyeing the food wistful y.
“I have a treat for you,” I said, pul ing two bottles of the magical y enhanced blood out of the refrigerator and popping them in the microwave. “Wait til you taste our dinner.”
The doorbel rang and Camil e cal ed out, “It’s Tavah.”
“I’l be right there,” I cal ed, then turned to Morio. “When the blood’s ready, can you pour a goblet for Erin?”
He grinned. “My pleasure. Does she know about the spel ?”
I nodded. “Yes, but I don’t think she’s ful y realized how extensive a selection we have thanks to you.”
“Okay. For dessert, I prepared a few bottles that taste like cinnamon applesauce.”
“Thank you. You’re al right, you know that?” I grinned at my brother-in-law and then headed out to the porch, where Tavah was sitting on the swing. I slipped outside and closed the door behind me. As much as I liked her, I would never invite her in. Too much danger.
Myth and legend were right—to a point. Vampires needed an invitation to enter a private dwel ing. Unless the building was like the frat house our enemy Harold Young had owned, which had technical y been an arm of the university. Or a home-based business. Or a store or bar or other public venue. I wasn’t quite clear on how it al worked yet and somehow doubted I’d ever be ful y savvy.
The temperature had settled somewhere in the low thirties and promised to plummet even colder. The sky glimmered with that silvery sheen, and it was snowing again. The hours I’d spent in sleep had provided for a soft coating lining the tree branches and a scattering barely covering the grass. Now, by the looks of things, by morning we’d have a blanket of white stretching across the lawn.
“I need you to promise me confidentiality on this. It concerns another vampire. No gossiping, no tel ing tales to friends, no talking about this outside my earshot.”
Tavah was official y employed by Queen Asteria now, too. She’d been paid as an Earthside vamp by the OIA, but after we got our butts kicked out last month, she’d offered to move over to the Elfin Queen’s camp with us. So we took her up on it. She nodded her head.
“Of course. What’s going on?”
I outlined the basic problem. “I need you to act as Erin’s new foster mother when I’m not around, at least for now, til I can get matters settled. I’l take over her training, but I want to make sure she has someone to run to if she gets afraid or if something happens.”
Tavah let out a little hmm and cocked her head to the side. She was tal and lean like Delilah, with shoulder-length blond hair that tumbled down her back in a ponytail. She wore scant makeup and kept to herself a good deal. She was a bookworm, albeit dressed in jeans and cashmere. I’d learned enough about her to trust her, but I had the feeling she’d never let anybody in enough to be a good friend.
“I can do that,” she said after a moment. “It’s a lot of responsibility, but . . . yes, I’l be happy to help. You said you wanted me to take her shopping?”
I nodded. “She hates the things Sassy forces her to wear. Get her a few comfortable, neat outfits and for the sake of the gods, let her choose them. Then take her back to the bar and show her what needs to be done in terms of cleaning up. Also, pick up a twenty-five-inch TV, or something close, for one of the rooms upstairs, and an inexpensive laptop. Use the store credit card. Erin might as wel start working tonight—show her where to find the cleaning supplies and what to do. I’m going to be late. If there are any problems, cal my cel phone.”
Standing, I summoned my daughter. Al I had to do was reach out with my mind and cal her, she was stil so freshly turned—and she came running.
“Tavah’s taking you shopping, then back to the bar. She’s an older vampire, so she’l be able to help you if something happens.” Tavah was at least one hundred years old, that much I knew. “I’l see you there when I’m finished with my business.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Erin automatical y bent to kiss my hand, and I reluctantly al owed it. I’d never aspired to sire another vampire; I’d never aspired to control others, only to have power over my own life. Now, it seemed the responsibilities were growing and there was no turning my back on them.
As Tavah led her down the path toward the driveway, I watched them go. My daughter. How odd it felt on my tongue, especial y when my daughter had been in her late forties at her death. But I was her sire, and she was my responsibility, and we would be forever linked, no matter what happened in the future.
Roman lived in a fabulous house behind a gated drive, and his staff was scared shitless of him.
The one time I’d been here before, the maid had warned me that few who entered the building ever left. I had thought then I’d never come back, but here I was, staring up at the four-story white elephant, the gleaming white columns that marched along the front porch shimmering like marble pil ars of light. What would it be like to live in a house like this? Ful of artifacts and antiques, luxuriant to the point of excess, with a stable of bloodwhores on the premises? The house reeked of decadence, and yet it was not overripe.
I slid out of my car and slowly approached the front door.
A maid answered—not the same one as I’d met before, but a vampire nonetheless. I didn’t ask about the other woman. I didn’t want to know.
“Menol y D’Artigo, here to meet Roman. I have an appointment at eight thirty.” As she stepped back, motioning me in, I was unaccountably glad I’d worn jeans and a turtleneck and my bad-ass black leather jacket. My stiletto boots tapped on the tile floor, which gleamed—polished to such a sheen that I could see my reflection in it.
