“Does it affect his balance?” she asked, letting go of my hand to crouch down so she could put the lid on the paint can.
“Let me do that,” I ordered, taking it from her. “No, it didn’t affect his balance. Looked pretty weird, though.”
“I bet. No sandals for him.”
I laughed, rising to my feet. “It didn’t seem to bother him much. He lost it when we were kids.”
“Multiple lifetimes with a missing toe,” she mused as she led me up the porch steps. “It’s a cruel world.”
“I’m goin’ to Dalton’s for dinner,” Gary announced as we stepped inside the house. “You two are on your own.”
“I want to go,” Rosemary gasped.
“Too bad. You weren’t invited.”
“Bullshit!”
“Stay here,” her dad ordered dryly. “There’s plenty of food in the fridge.”
“I’m calling Aunt Halle,” Rosemary replied, rolling her eyes as Gary shuffled past us. “Give me that.”
She practically tore his folded wheelchair out of his hands and stomped out of the house.
“See you in a bit,” Gary nodded to me before leaving, the old bulldog following at his heels.
I could hear them arguing outside, but I stayed just inside the house. I knew Rosemary was getting more frustrated by the hour that she was stuck on the property, but I was glad that her father and I agreed that it was the safest place for her. Even if by some chance the human militia discovered it existed, there were so many defensible positions that we could keep them at bay until reinforcements arrived. Gary had planned his home with purpose.
“Do you cook?” Rosemary asked as she sailed back into the house, swinging the door shut behind her.
“I can,” I replied, following her into the kitchen.
“Me too.” She stopped in the middle of the kitchen and huffed in annoyance. “At least we’ll never starve.”
“What do you want?” I asked, moving toward her.
“Grilled cheese,” she stated firmly. “And homemade tomato soup.”
“Sounds good,” I murmured as she stomped to the fridge.
“Wait a second,” she said, looking up at me. “Where’s your blood?”
I looked down at my body.
“Very funny,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Didn’t you bring blood back with you? I mean, you weren’t planning to complete the bond, right?”
“It’s in a cooler in the car,” I replied with a grimace. After we’d completed the bond, I’d completely forgotten it was there. Once a Vampire was mated, donor blood was no longer an option. It would keep us alive, barely, but only our mate’s blood could keep us healthy.
I hadn’t even thought about the blood I’d left in the car. There was a chance it was still cold, but more likely I’d just wasted hundreds of dollars.
“Whoops.”
“I forgot about it,” I said, taking the items she handed me as she searched through the fridge.
“Easy to do. It’s not like you need it now.”
She said it so easily that I was reminded again of how lucky I was that my mate understood the ins and outs of the mating bond. There was no tiptoeing or trying to explain the finer points in a way that wouldn’t make a human woman run screaming into the night. Rosemary wasn’t surprised by any of it.
“My brother Beau went back to donor blood very briefly after he and his mate completed the bond,” I told her as I sliced cheese. “She freaked out when she found him gray and passed out on the couch.”
