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“Are you sure you want to watch this again?” I ask, nodding toward the television. “You could come with me to see Aunt Annie if you want. We could take your tricycle out on the patio, and you can zoom around while we talk.”
Amy’s expression lights up for a second but then her eyes narrow and she shakes her head. “No, thank you, Mama. I want to watch it again.”
My lips quirk up on one side. “Because you never get to watch a movie twice in a row and want to binge this thing while you have the chance?”
Amy lifts her pudgy little hands at her sides as her grin widens. “I don’t know. I just like it, and I do what I like.”
“And I love that about you,” I say, laughing as I tickle her ribs and she melts into a giggly puddle on the couch beside Sherry.
And I do. I love that she hasn’t learned to put her own needs aside to make things easier for other people yet. I hope she never learns that lesson, that I can teach her to honor her own desires as well as the needs of the people she loves. In a society that isn’t supportive of confident women who know what they want and go after it, it won’t be easy, but if anyone can do it, it’s the two of us. Together.
That’s how I think of being her mom, like we’re teammates working together to help her grow up happy and strong. And when we’re done, and she’s a fabulous young woman with the world at her feet, we’ll celebrate what a good job we did figuring out how to raise her together.
When we’re done with tickles and a big hug, I tuck Amy back under her blankie on the couch and ask Sherry, “Do you need anything before I go? Snacks? Lunch? A book or a magazine or children’s chewable morphine? Something to lessen the cartoonish torture?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Blaire brought us lunch, and I’m happy to watch the brave little princess save the world again. This is the most relaxing day I’ve had in ages.” She props her feet up and makes shooing motions with her hands. “Scoot. Go meet Annie and Blaire. They’re waiting for you in the cabana out back.”
I frown. “The cabana by the pool? I thought that was closed for the season.”
“It is, but they’ve commandeered it,” she says, pressing a finger to her lips. “But don’t tell anyone else where you’re going. It’s top secret. Oh, and grab a bottle of club soda from the kitchen on your way out. Blaire called a few minutes ago and said she’d forgotten it.”
I bite my lip, casting a glance up at the ceiling, searching the crown molding for hidden cameras.
Seeming to read my mind, Sherry says, “Don’t worry about the surveillance. They can’t hear us. Just see us.”
“Great,” I say dryly.
She shrugs. “Yeah, it sucks, but it could be worse. You should have seen what it was like at the vampire house in Boston where I used to work. Their cameras had audio, too, and they made us wear body cams and watches that tracked our heartbeat and respiration. We’d get in trouble if either one dipped too low.” She rolls her eyes. “They saw that as proof that we must have been leaning when we should have been cleaning.”
I pull my lips away from my teeth as I breathe, “Yikes.”
“Indeed,” she agrees, winking as she grabs a pack of maple sugar meltaway candies from the table by the couch. “So, you can see why I love a day like this. Don’t forget the club soda.”
“Right. I’ll go grab that now.” I blow Amy one more kiss and ease out into the hall, glancing both ways, unable to shake the feeling that I’m being watched by something more than whoever’s monitoring the Blackmore security feed.
I’ve felt that way since Edmond and I went our separate ways, really. But maybe it’s just the suspicion that he regrets what happened in the catacombs that has my soul anxious and unsettled.
My body, on the other hand, is still vibrating with joy as I sneak into the kitchen and grab a bottle of club soda from the pantry while the staff is having their afternoon meal. One good thing about working for vampires—there isn’t much food to prepare, especially during the day when there aren’t cocktail parties or events to cater, and most of the humans who work as blood donors at the estate are also asleep.
It looks like the preparations for the Halloween party tonight are well underway, however.
My chest aches a little at the sight of the snack mix, caramel apples, and dozens of cupcakes cooling on racks next to bowls of green, orange, and white icing. This is what we should all be doing today—preparing for the holiday with the people we love, not worrying that we’re going to be killed by Shadowbanes or unhinged vampires with a weird affinity for the color pink or contaminated water in our once cozy cave.
An image of Herbish’s see-through chest flashes on my mental screen again, making me shudder and hope whatever Annie and Blaire have to share with me in the cabana will be captivating. I could really use something to keep my mind off both goblin hearts and memories of how perfect it was to be naked with Edmond again.
I try to tell myself it wasn’t the last time, that we’ll find a way to save him, but it’s getting harder to believe my own affirmations.
I get that manifesting your desired reality is all the rage these days, but sometimes reality just sucks and no amount of “vibrating at a positive frequency” is going to change that. But if it makes you feel a little better as the world falls to pieces around you, that’s…something, I guess?
“What do you guys think about manifesting?” I ask as I step into the cabana and shut the door.
On the opposite side of the small bar space—the drink and food prep counter on the right is only three feet from the bar where moon-bathing vampires perch to order blood-based drinks on summer nights—Annie and Blaire jump and spin to face me.
Annie clutches at her chest, exhaling a breathy laugh. “Goddess, you scared me. You’re so quiet. Don’t be so quiet.”
“You liked how quiet I was when we were little and I was the best at shooting turkeys for dinner,” I say, setting the club soda on the bar as I shift to peek at the counter behind them. “What you got there?”
“Aw, turkeys,” Blaire says, a fond smile curving her lips as she shifts more firmly in front of whatever they’re hiding. “Call me crazy, but I love a wild turkey. Give me the firm, gamey meat of a scrappy survivor over farm raised stuff any day. You should try to get us one for the Nightfall Founder’s Day feast this year, Casey.”
