Page 16 of Because the Night

“Why are you asking if you already know who she is?” Lucas sits up and sets his book aside. He’s wearing a pair of pajama pants and not much else. Not staring at his chest is a big ask.

“Because it annoys you.”

Lucas grunts.

“I’m Henry.” He offers me his hand to shake. “What’s your name?”

“Skye. Hi.”

“A blonde with green eyes. How interesting. I thought you swore off making any more of us,” says Henry. “In fact, I distinctly remember you doing so.”

“Has the house been seen to?” asks Lucas, ignoring the question.

“Yes.” Henry uses his hold on my hand to pull me out of bed. “Now then, little sister. Let’s get you cleaned up. We do have a family reputation to maintain, after all.”

“She needs to eat first.” Lucas leaves the room and returns with a blood bag in each hand. “The fridge has been stocked. Here. Hold it carefully. You don’t want to break it.”

“Thank you.” I put the tube between my lips and start sipping.

“You’re one of those, are you?” asks Henry. “I admit, blood bags are practical, but hardly a substitute for the real thing.”

Lucas raises his dark brows. “I tried to tell her, but she’s happy, so…”

“It really is grand to see you.” Henry opens his arms. “How about a hug?”

“Don’t make me kill you,” says Lucas.

“Father’s love language is death threats,” whispers Henry. “Try not to take it personally. Very difficult childhood. Not even Freud could sort him out; though, he certainly tried for a good many years.”

“Are there any other siblings?” I ask.

Lucas frowns. It must be his fallback setting. “None that we need to discuss right now.”

“Father spent his first few hundred years as a spy and a thug. It makes him slow to trust,” says Henry. He turns back to Lucas. “I had almost forgotten how repressed you are. You knowus men are more in touch with our feelings now. We actually talk about things. Occasionally, we even cry. You should try it sometime.”

Despite the pout on Henry’s face, the word that appears in my mind isjoy. He is beyond delighted at this reunion with his sire. And that these words are still coming to me consistently is interesting. I need all the help I can get in navigating this new world.

We adjourn to the living room, where Henry flops down onto a blue velvet couch. After putting an Ella Fitzgerald album on the antique phonograph, Lucas sits gracefully in a black wingback. The largest chair in the room. It kind of looks like a throne, which makes sense. I curl up in the corner of a black leather sofa. And yay me for not breaking anything yet tonight. All of the furniture seems sturdy. To guard against vampires who don’t know their own strength, perhaps?

“I wasn’t supposed to wake you for another almost thirty years,” says Henry, curling a blond lock around a finger. “What happened?”

Lucas nods to me. “She happened.”

“It was an accident,” I say, setting aside my breakfast for the moment. “My boss forgot to tell me to stick to the aboveground levels and to only be here during daylight hours.”

Henry sobers. “That must have been terrifying for you. Facing a starving vampire on your own. You’re lucky it was Father, who has enough control to stop himself and generally doesn’t drink to kill. Otherwise, you’d be dead as a dodo.”

I wisely keep my mouth shut.

“No wonder you turned her,” continues Henry. “You must have felt like absolute shit with that eternally tortured soul of yours.”

Lucas frowns. “We’re vampires, drinking people’s blood is what we do.”

“Well, yes, but there’s no need to be rude about it. And, old man, even you have to admit that attacking someone like that and draining them is…ugh. Déclassé. You must have terrified her, all desiccated and dried up like you would have been.”

“She’s one woman,” says Lucas. “You were in a frenzy for half of 1943 on the frontlines. You killed thousands.”

“They were Nazis. They had it coming.”

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