of coffee to my lips and take a sip. Big snowflakes slowly fall to the ground. Scarlet runs around, jumping and biting at the snow. She was excited to wake up and find a few inches of snow on the ground, and given that she’s a hellhound and is usual in Hell, I’m guessing she’s never seen snow before.
It’s only ten-thirty in the morning and I’m on my second cup of coffee already. It’s half decaf, so I won’t go over my caffeine limit for the day, but I need the buzz. It’s been over a week since the creepy dream in the ash forest, and in that week, nothing has happened.
Nothing demonic, at least.
The snow starts to fall harder, and I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders. The first snow is always the prettiest, and it’s going to be cold the next few days. I’ll be able to enjoy the snow-covered branches in the woods behind the house for a few days before it melts. I take another few sips of my coffee then start to feel bad about the extra caffeine.
“Come on,” I call to Scarlet and stand, blanket slipping from my shoulders. I pick it up and wait for her to bound up the back porch steps. She shakes the snow from her fur and then goes inside. I pour the rest of the coffee down the drain and put the mug in the sink. My footsteps echo through the kitchen as I make my way into the living room.
The house is pretty much empty. We will officially be in the new house as of tonight, and it’s more bittersweet than I imagined. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so excited to move into the new house. It’s been a long time coming, being under restoration for months now. There’s still a lot of exterior work to do, and if we didn’t have a human crew and a vampire crew working on it, we’d still be many months out before being able to move in. Having super speed helped the vampires move things along much faster than normal as well.
“Fine, I’ll feed you,” I tell Scarlet, who went right over to her bowl. She eats what’s typical for her size, and now that she’s a dozen times bigger than her puppy form, I’m going through food like crazy. I put a scoop of kibble into her bowl, and she looks at me, waiting for more.
“I’m not cooking chicken again. I already shared my eggs and bacon with you and my familiars this morning,” I say. Lucas is upstairs cleaning the now-empty guest room. Packing, moving, and then decorating the new house has kept me sane this last week, taking my mind off the shitstorm that’s brewing. It’ll erupt soon enough, and having that ticking time bomb hanging over my head makes me so fucking anxious.
Going upstairs, I take a look around our bedroom. All that’s left are my nightstands, dresser, and TV, all of which Betty asked to keep. It makes moving a lot easier to leave some of that behind, and the house still holds onto a bit of its old self.
I double-check the closet, making sure I’ve gotten everything out before Betty moves in tomorrow. I haven’t decided what to do with the warding on the house yet, and I’m a little worried someone—or something—will show up here looking for me. Keeping lines of protective magic drawn around a house isn’t a bad thing.
Better safe than sorry, right?
I check the rest of the house, ending my search in the kitchen. I’ve cleared out everything, donated most of the imperishable goods in my pantry instead of having to move them and now am regretting that. The fridge is pretty much empty too, and it sounded like a good idea at the time to start fresh. I let Lucas know I’m going to make a grocery run, taking the food to the new house. My friends are meeting me there in a few hours, to take a tour as well as just hang out.
We haven’t sat around talking about anything noncritical in way too long. Several large crates of wine from Lucas’s vineyard arrived yesterday, and the wine cellar is nearly stocked now. I wistfully watch my friends drink and low-key keep checking the countdown on my phone until my due date. I didn’t have any ultrasound or belly pictures to select as my background, so I snapped a photo of the wine cellar and am currently