When she was used to breaking out the boxes of decorations and making plans with Cecilia for their annual Moonrise junkfood feast, all the Amauris around her were hopping on jets,planning ragers, or cramming as much into their social calendar as they could manage.
Prior to becoming a vampire, she never would’ve claimed to be a particularly devout worshipper of the gods, or even someone wholovedthe holiday. It hadn’t exactly been a priority in her childhood home. But she’d come to love the traditions she shared with Cecilia, and it never occurred to her that someday she wouldn’t be able to share those with a partner or their children.
It was a good thing, then, that she had Colin.
“I know what you mean,” he said, poking at a crouton in his salad. “It was a hard adjustment for me, not doing those things with Alastair, but we both adapted eventually. And if I’m being honest, I’ve come to really enjoy not havingsomany family obligations around the holiday.”
Dahlia pretended to sip from the synth she’d ordered. They both knew she wasn’t drinking it, but it felt too awkward to sit there and watch someone eat without at least a beverage in hand.
“I don’t want to force things on the Amauris,” she admitted, “but I don’t want to just abandon the parts of the holiday that mean something to me, either.”
“And you shouldn’t!” Colin waved his fork at her with enough gusto that a little splatter of salad dressing hit the white tablecloth. “Listen, these vampires are a loud, pushy bunch. They like getting their way, but the secret is they like pleasing us more. You’ve got to assert yourself and make sure they know what you need to be happy. If that’s starting some new traditions around Burden’s Moon, then so be it.”
“What’d you do with Alastair?” she asked, fascinated by the idea of her adopted father getting exactly his way. It was hard to imagine him adapting to traditions he couldn’t see the value in, or doing something silly like putting on a festive sweater.
Colin tipped his head from side to side as he chewed. His colored glasses slid a little on the bridge of his nose before he pushed them up with a knuckle. “Well, I tried a lot of different things over the years. For a long time, I forced him to go to at least one Moonrise or Moonset party, but it was such an obligation that eventually it sucked the fun out of it for me too. And you know, it didn’t feel good, watching him not be able to really participate in the way I could.”
Dahlia nodded. She wouldn’t have liked that, either. Felix needed to be part of whatever she did, not slotted in as an afterthought. Ideally,allof the Amauris would be part of whatever she did.
“So what do you suggest?” she asked, rubbing the stem of her glass between her forefinger and thumb.
Colin shrugged. “Make new traditions. Take all the good things out of yours and the good things out of Felix’s and mash them together like a festive baby.”
“That’s kind of what I was thinking,” she said, eyebrows raising. “Actually, I had an idea.”
“Go on.”
Dahlia flattened both hands on the tabletop and leaned forward, as if she were about to impart a great secret she didn’t want the restaurant to overhear. “I wantusto do something. Throw a party, maybe.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Us? As in your father and your anchor?”
“Yes,” she answered, grimacing a little. “Do you think that’s a terrible idea?”
To his credit, Colin didn’t immediately balk. He also didn’t exude enthusiasm, either. Instead, she got a perfectly reasonable noncommittal nod and headshake combination. “I don’t think it’s animpossibleidea,” he allowed.
“It wouldn’t be a big one,” she assured him. “Just the four of us. And maybe Tomas?”
“It’s not impossible,” he said again.
Dahlia licked her lips. “Right?”
“Right,” he dragged out.
She pretended to sip her synth again to hide her grimace.Not impossible. Sure. We’ll see about that.
It turned out to not be impossible at all. At least, logistically speaking. Anybody could plan a small family party, after all. The hard part was getting anyone to treat it like one.
Dahlia sat on the edge of the couch and glanced around the room with growing dismay. Felix lounged beside her, one ankle propped up on his knee, while her fathers sat on the couch opposite them. Tomas had occupied the chair by the fireplace, a glass of alcoholic synth in hand.
No one spoke.
Cheerful holiday music filled the air alongside the crackle of the fire. She’d commandeered an Amauri-owned penthouse above the glitter of downtown United Washington for their little get-together. Colin advised her that it would probably be a bit much to ask Alastair or Felix to enter each other’s spaces, so she’d settled on a place that felt a little more neutral and spent a couple hours decorating it.
A sparkling garland of glass and silver beads had been draped over the fireplace mantle, and large pillar candles in cut crystal containers glowed on every flat surface. It felt strange only setting out a small platter of cheese, meats, and chocolate for Colin, but she channeled the energy she might’ve otherwiseput into preparing food into more decorations, more candles, and more flowers.
Bouquets of white roses perfumed the air, and by the time she was done, she was proud to bits over the little winter wonderland she’d crafted.
And then the guests arrived. They’d barely managed the minimum of smalltalk before Felix and Alastair settled into a staring contest. Her husband smirked. Her father glared. The longer it went on like that, the worse the tension got.
