Page 14 of Toadstools and Vampire Kisses

This is silly. Rolling my eyes at the male posturing, I turn in my chair to look back at Reynard and startle when I see how close he is. There’s less than a foot between us. I didn’t even hear him approach or feel his presence. His pale blue eyes slowly drop to meet mine, but only for a moment before he pins Adeon with a fierce glare. There is a ripple of energy fraught with tension, and then the dragon snorts and steps away from the table, picking up his mug in the process. With a grim smile, he briefly salutes me with it.

“I ought to be going. I’m no doubted needed somewhere with all this mess going on. A pleasure making your acquaintance, Fran,” he rumbles. “Just keep in mind what I said, and don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything. Anything at all.”

There is a significant weight to those last words that makes me peer up at him curiously, but Adeon merely smiles at Reynard before imperiously walking away as if he owns the place. Reynard is still growling as he sinks into the vacated seat across from me as I pick up my coffee and resume sipping it.

“What did the dragon want?” he bites out, and I scowl at him over the rim of my cup.

“What business is it of yours?” I snap back, lowering my cup.

He recoils as if slapped, but I mentally shove my niggle of regret off a mental cliff and stare back at him.

“Dragons aren’t to be trusted,” he replies haughtily, and I only just barely restrain my laughter.

“That’s funny because he says the same thing of you and all vampires,” I reply dryly, refreshing my cup from the still hot carafe on the table. I gesture at him with the pot and raise my eyebrows. “You want some?”

His nostrils flare, a faint look of disgust briefly touching his features, and he shakes his head.

“Suit yourself. More for me.” I squint over at him as I stir in the suitable amount of sugar and creamer to make it drinkable. “You’re up early. I figured you would sleep for a few more hours at least.”

He shakes his head woefully. “Sleep would be a grand thing if my cousin were of the mind to let me have it. He’s been awake for an hour yet, moaning and complaining about his jaw. And blaming me entirely, of course.”

“Of course,” I agree with sympathy. “Though I would’ve thought it healed by now.”

“Oh, it is,” Reynard says sourly, “but that doesn’t stop him from complaining that it still aches and is bothering him.”

I smile into my cup despite myself. “Yes, I’m sure it will probably be a little tender for the rest of the day, but he’s a big, tough vampire. He’ll survive.”

“So he will,” he agrees. Something shifts in his eyes, and suddenly he relaxes into the chair and smiles. “What is on the schedule for today?”

I purse my lips and take another piece of bacon off my plate, dropping it down to Beast. Reynard’s eyes follow the movement of the bacon in my hand. Leaning the side, he glances under the table. Straightening once more, he chuckles as I place my finger to my lips.

“Beast isn’t supposed to be in here,” I whisper.

To my surprise and pleasure, Reynard smiles. “You named your dog Beast?”

“Snugglemonster just didn’t have the same ring,” I reply, brushing my fingers off on my pant legs. “Anyway, my mother has a strict no pets policy in the kitchen and dining area… which the ballroom counts as while the tables are out,” I add. “So we would appreciate it if you keep this between us.”

“Given that Beast did not raise the house and all the dead when we came to your room last night, his secret is safe with me. I know it could have easily been otherwise and my cousin would have been humiliated that others saw him at his weakest. It has been some time since I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying the company of hounds. Not since… well, it does not matter.”

Deftly, with fingers that I barely see move, he snatches a piece of bacon from my plate and breaks it into three pieces, lowering one beneath the table. I feel Beast brush my leg as he hurries over to the offered treat without even the slightest hesitation.

“So glad to know his loyalty can’t be cheaply bought.” I take another gratifying sip of my coffee. “As for what’s up today, if I’m remembering correctly, it’s the Jack-o’-lantern Dance. It’s always held on the first day of the ball and happens to be a favorite of the children.” At Reynard’s blank look, I explain, “It’s a masquerade dance, so that means costumes, and sickeningly sweet treats guaranteed to be appetizing to the little ghouls. But first we spend the afternoon with an early dinner out at the pumpkin patch, where I’m sure everyone has already begun setting up, followed by the carving of the lanterns to be set up all around the ballroom for the dance. Extra points always go to those who can dance the best with a jack-o’-lantern on their head, so it’s always a competition to fill the room with as many pumpkins as possible to make up for the ones that end up splattered on the floor.”

Reynard chuckles, but his smile slowly fades. “I have no costume.”

I tsk and shake my head. “Well, first the pumpkins, and then we’ll see what we can come up with. I suppose we should get ready to go out.” I give the dress shirt and trousers he’s wearing a questioning look. Even his boots look more expensive than anything I own. “Do you need to change?”

He glances down at himself and frowns. “Do I require more than this? I assumed that the day’s events would be informal. I have my protective lenses for my eyes and have put on sunblock, and brought my parasol.” I blink as he lifts a long, slender umbrella that I hadn’t noticed him carrying.” His face falls a little. “Unless you think I ought not go. I have never carved a pumpkin and cannot imagine what sort of costume we can craft on such short notice.” He tries to smooth out his expression, but I already feel like I’ve just kicked a puppy.

“No, you’re right,” I say quickly, sympathy filling me at the discouraged look on his face. “All right, let’s get moving. As for tonight, don’t worry. I think I have a fabulous idea for what we can do.”

His smile brightens again, and I’m absolutely not charmed. Absolutely not.

ChapterTen

REYNARD

As Fran predicted, the entire household has spilled out into the pumpkin patch beyond the kitchen garden. Even though I am dressed frightfully down in a black silk shirt with my trousers and boots, I stand apart from the humans clad in the attire of laborers. Even Fran has abandoned skirts for a pair of faded denims and a bulky forest green knit sweater. I frown down at my own attire, recalling that Fran had asked if I needed to change.

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