His hand pressed against the cool metal door, opening it just enough to let in the dull light of pre-dawn. Without turning around, he answered, “Blood poisoning, I’m afraid. Awful way to go, isn’t it?”
Epilogue
June 2050 - Empire Estate, The Elvish Protectorate
“What’s this one again,Anne?”
Zia looked up from her task of attempting to gently weed out the overgrown mint plant in their kitchen garden to find her daughter holding a bristling twig of rosemary about an inch from her nose.
“Give it a smell,” she gently encouraged as she rocked back on her heels. She was already getting tired, and that annoyed her to no end. It was the first time since the birth of her son that she’d felt anywhere near well enough to get some night air. Sheneededto get out of the house, but her enthusiasm didn’t make her body recover any faster.
It wasn’t easy keeping up with a four year old, either.
Serafina squinted her big brown eyes at the twig in her chubby fist for a long moment, mimicking her father’s narrow-eyed expression of concentration, before she brought it up to her nose for a noisy sniff.
“Blegh!” Her little fangs flashed with her disgusted grimace. She shoved the twig back at her mother, who took it with a grin. “So smelly!”
“That’s rosemary, baby. It’s used for food,” Zia explained, pulling her daughter’s soft little body into her lap. She reached around her to pluck a leaf off of the mint. The plant didn’t mind losing a leaf or two, since it was beginning to overstretch its resources, but she gave it a small pulse of magic as a thank you anyway.
Handing it to her daughter, she said, “Smell this one. It’s called mint.”
Serafina’s little black pigtails bobbed when she dipped her head to sniff the leaf in her mother’s hand. “That’s toothpaste!”
“It’s what toothpaste is flavored with, yes.”
Harlan’s baritone came from the doorway to the kitchen. “Are we getting a botanical lesson tonight?”
Mother and daughter swiveled their heads to look at the vampire leaning against the door jamb. He wore running pants and no shirt, but a baby sling was strapped over his chest. Zia could just make out a tiny brown fist curled against his scarred pectoral muscle and a wisp of curly black hair from deep within the sling.
Like always, her heart swelled with warmth when she glimpsed the long-healed marriage sigil between his brows. Designed to look like a blooming rose, it held a spark of magic in it — a symbol of the unbreakable bond that stretched between them, forged in blood and magic both.
The night they married, Harlan told her that it was the only scar he wore proudly. She still felt a rush of warmth when she remembered those words, and the long, blissful night that followed them.
“Daddy, smell this!” Serafina hopped out of her mother’s lap to scurry over to Harlan, who immediately squatted down to be at her level. Her little bare feet flew over the brick path until she halted with a clumsy half-step in front of her father.
When she held the nearly crushed leaf up to his nose, he sniffed dutifully. “Hm,” he hummed, putting on a thoughtful expression. “What does that smell like? I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Serafina, who relished learning to an almost unhealthy degree and who had inherited her mother’s tendency to ramble, sucked in a deep breath and clapped her hands on her father’s cheeks. “It’stoothpaste,Daddy!”
Harlan’s eyes crinkled when he glanced over their daughter’s shoulder to meet Zia’s amused gaze. “Is that right? I had no idea.”
Careful not to over-exert her abdominal muscles too much, Zia carefully levered herself up from her spot on the ground by the flower bed. Cupping the back of her daughter’s head, she said, “It can also be used as a tea. You’ve seen me drink it lots of times.”
Serafina wrinkled her nose. “That stuff from when you were sick with Leo?”
“Sometimes, yes.”
She looked up at her mother like she was questioning her taste. “I didn’t like that one very much.”
“That’s because you’re a growing vampire, and vampires prefer synth.” Harlan rose up from his crouch to gently usher their daughter inside the kitchen with one hand. “Speaking of which — it’s lunchtime, princess. Go pick your bottle from the cupboard.”
“But how come Leo doesn’t hafta drink synth?” Serafina shuffled her dirty feet in the dust by the door, her lips pursed. “AndAnnedoesn’t either.”
“That’s because I’m a witch, not a vampire,” Zia answered, unfazed by the question. She’d already answered it close to a dozen times since Leo’s birth. “And your brother drinks milk until his fangs come in, just like you did.”
“Well, I don’trememberdrinking milk,” she muttered, eyeing her brother’s tiny form dubiously.
“You were too young to remember, but you did.” Harlan nudged her again, edging her over the threshold and into the kitchen where he and Zia had their first quasi-date all those years ago. “Go pick your bottle, or I’ll do it for you. You need to eat before your auntie gets here with her anchor, remember? If you don’t, you’ll be too cranky to play with—”
