twisted the dagger, so to speak.
“Her name is Jade. She has… had... your eyes and the temperament of a lonely kitten. I like her quite a bit.” Tucking Pearl’s arm through mine, I pulled her resistant self from the restaurant. “She has your gift of sunlight. Appreciates fine cuisine. One day—when you are ready—a dinner would suit.”
“I have a little girl?”
“She’s in her seventies. Woefully neglected by her now decapitated father. Bitter, and absolutely in love with a warrior named Malcom. They are to be married soon. I expect a pureblood child will follow shortly after. Daywalkers are extraordinarily fertile.”
“I have a child who’s the same age as I was when—”
“When Malcom—the one you described as an angel—ripped out your fangs and brought you before Darius for crimes unknowingly committed.”
Shame, horror, there was even a catch in her voice. “She must hate me.”
“Oh yes, she does. But she also doesn’t know you exist. We all assumed her mother was a human Darius made a meal of. Even I, her grandfather.” Bloodlines were complicated, but my next statement was plain as night and proffered with a charming wink. “Or should I say stepfather, now that we are one? Either way, she’s a proper combination of our lineage and will therefore be on equal footing with all our fat-cheeked future babies.”
Before us, the door of the bistro opened, one of the multitude of servants who prepared this corner of the city for our walk playing their part admirably—assuring everything was as smooth as the dark, silken hair of my bride.
I deserved a medal!
Maybe a kiss.
Instead, and it was so unexpected that despite her miniscule strength, Pearl threw off my arm. She threw it off, shook herself as if to remove something disgusting, and turned on the sidewalk I had scrubbed clean only the night before.
And she stomped away.
“Darling, the food will get cold!” She wasn’t listening, prancing off as if I might actually allow her out of my sight. Trotting after her, I tried to smooth extremely ruffled feathers by calling out, “Come now. How could you think such things of your own children? Of course they won’t have batwings. You’re not spawning imps!”
Tearing at her hair, my soul screamed, “Stay away from me!”
This would not do. Nor would my budding temper serve. Unfortunately, a note of the demonic snarled through my voice. “We had an agreement.”
Hackles up, she spun. “For a walk and a dinner. I walked, and I ate whatever that foul thing was.”
“An oyster, breaded, and coated in mayonnaise. Worst in the city, according to the Yelp.”
Her little filaments of rationality were snapping. I could hear it her thoughts were so loud. Not only that, she was actually angry. Not scared or horrified. Pissed off, as the youth liked to say.
So angry she dared point a finger and yell. “You are absolutely insane!”
Pot meet kettle.
Yes, I rolled my eyes, somewhat giddy that we were having our first lover’s quarrel.
“Did you just—”
Smoothing my navy dinner jacket, I adjusted the cuff, inspecting the tailoring. “Yes, I did. I rolled my eyes at you, because you are acting like the baby you imagine flying around and snatching up tourists. My feelings are getting hurt. I do have those, you know. Just as I have infinite patience and will follow you, humming a jaunty tune, no matter how far you walk. And, yes, I know you walked from California to New York City. I know everything about you, Pearl, in this life and your last. Why not try to get to know me? Have I been so terrible?”
Guilt… there it was. The weakness of all good souls. And my soul was pristine. Pristine with high color and a trembling lip. Regretting yelling at Satan himself, how cute.
Tucking her hair behind an ear, she muttered, “What am I to do with you?”
“Tolerate me.” Smile back in place, I strode closer and offered my arm. “Eventually, I’ll grow on you. You didn’t love me at first when I took you for wife in your last life either.”
“Why not?”
A valid question I would never fully answer. “It was a different time, and you didn’t want to be Queen. Unlike this incarnation, you had lived a life of pleasure. Like this life, you had been denied fulfilment. Back then, I swore to you you’d find it in our children, just as our mother had—”
Aghast, she tripped on an uneven bit of pavement. “Did you say our mother?”
I’d have the sidewalks repaved to be even in this part