Page 40 of Toadstools and Vampire Kisses

FRAN

Although there is an undeniable tension in the air from Mother’s announcement, the Skeleton Dance seems to be going without a hitch. Right down to the dancing plastic skeletons that Reynard hasn’t stopped eyeing since we entered the ballroom. After spending much of the day wandering around the grounds to see if we could sense any further traces of the wraith and setting out the wards I crafted, I’m tired and more than ready for a little levity.

“And you humans think vampires are gruesome, putting us in coffins to take our rest, when truly you have an obsession with the disturbing,” Reynard remarks with a shudder, his eyes narrowing on a particularly realistic one.

I grin at his observation, because it is true for the most part. “Didn’t you say that humans seem to possess a half-life to your kind because of how close we are to death? Well, there are plenty of people would say that a fascination with death is due to our own mortality. Human life is fleeting, and so there are those of us who have a fascination with it. I love bones myself because they’re a reminder of the passage of life and how it sustains a delicate balance. In the forests around my home, there are always skulls and partial skeletons that can be found whose bodies have returned their vital essence to the earth.”

“I suppose that means your home is full of bones,” he replies with distaste, making me laugh.

“I have a few impressive skulls, but most of the useful bones are stored in jars and locked in my apothecary cabinets in case I need them for spells. Unlike my wildling magic, that requires a bit more substance. I may have more animal remains than some members of my coven, but less than others.” I turn toward him with a teasing smile. “Are you saying you wouldn’t stay with me in my cabin if you have to share space with skulls?”

He grimaces, but I see the humor in his eyes. “I suppose I can tolerate it if I must.”

“Unless you would prefer that we were at your place?” I arch a suggestive eyebrow, but a true look of distaste crosses his face before he whirls me around and tucks me into his side once more, his wing sheltering over me. Wings that have drawn the admiring gaze—and in a few cases surprised looks—from my coven. Thankfully, no one has stared too much or said anything.

“I would rather not. Before my sleep, I had a lovely keep among some secluded hills. From what I understand the hills have been developed and the keep pulled down some time ago. Since coming to this country a few years ago, I’ve been resigned to dwelling within the coven compound among other unmated vampires, and it is horrendous. It is not what I consider home or any place I would take a mate.”

I nestle closer to him as Reynard cranes his neck, his eyes wide, as a couple of skeletons waltz by. I turn my head to watch them pass in admiration. Eleanor may not be a necromancer, but she sure is on point this year. I don’t think I recall ever seeing so many skeleton couples dancing among the people there. I don’t feel like dancing yet, so I snuggle further into the male beside me and breathe in his wonderful scent.

And then there’s Jack. He stands out, unlike his friends who converse and dance politely among the coven—well, Connor is chatting and dancing with members of the coven. Jace seems to be amusing himself and bystanders as he dances with a skeleton, the sight of which makes me giggle into my hand. With a woman on each arm staring up at him in rapt fascination, one even going so far as to play with a wing, since he has followed after Reynard in showing his true form, Jack is practically ignoring them to stare a hole through Paige.

Not that I blame him. Paige is beautiful. Though her appearance takes more after her Japanese father than my aunt, she is a Durmont witch through and through. And she is currently ignoring the fact that Jack exists, much less breathes the same air as her, as she directs every bit of her attention on a man visiting from a neighboring coven. It is common for there to be such exchanges among the covens so we can socialize and meet potential romantic matches, but it does seem that we have more than our usual share this year. As much as Jack seems to find at least one new partner every night when Paige spurns him, he finds just as many men courting my cousin’s attention.

“If Jack is hoping to get anywhere with Paige, he isn’t going to do it by acting like a thotsferatu,” I murmur to Reynard.

He startles, and glances down at me. “A what?”

“You know, a slutty, dumbass of a vampire.” I wave a hand in Jack’s direction with amusement. “I got it from a meme, but it seems to fit Jack perfectly.”

Reynard sighs as he gives Jack a chagrined look. “Ah, yes. I fear that my cousin is exactly that. I tried to tell him, but apparently since I do lack allure it means that I am completely ignorant on the subject. I suppose he imagines that I’ve never so much as conversed with a female over the centuries and was just fortunate enough to bond with you. Though Iamquite fortunate,” he adds as he lifts my hand and kisses my palm.

I laugh as I purposely turn my attention from the himboratu… male skankpire… manslutcula…Oh, this is way too much fun.My eyes land on the shadowy form of a formidable-looking vampire lurking in the corner. Reynard follows the direction of my gaze.

“Ulrek,” Reynard fills in for me before I have the chance to ask. “Like me, he is a newer addition to the coven. That one, however, I do not think you have anything to worry about. He made mention of wishing to find his mate, but unlike Jack, he doesn’t seem to have any interest in searching for her with more carnal methods. Perhaps for the best. His temperament is darker than the others from what I can tell.”

I tip my head, considering the male whose amber eyes shift to me as if feeling my eyes on him. His gaze gleams briefly with some mysterious emotion, but it is gone too soon for me to identify before he turns his head away and returns his attention to the dancers.

“I don’t know… I think he looks sad.”

“Sad?” Reynard huffs in disbelief. He peers at the male for a long moment but shrugs. “Perhaps,” he concedes. “Though I would more suspect that too many centuries of living in the frozen mountains have left him equally as chilled.”

I hook his hands with mine, ducking from beneath his wing as I drag him toward the dance floor. “Okay, enough of that. Let’s dance.”

“But my wings…”

“Pssh,” I scoff. “Your wings are beautiful, and everyone is secretly admiring them. If you accidentally hit anyone with them, it’ll be because they were staring at them instead of ducking out of the way. Let’s go. I want to dance with the most beautiful male in the room.”

“I think you are mistaken, my love,” he says, his words sending a thrill through me. I don’t let myself get too excited over a pet name, though. I want the full declaration and am willing to wait for it. “I have no allure with which to attract them. That you find me appealing I can only call an undeserved blessing from the gods.”

I roll my eyes. “You may not have this innate power to seduce the pants off someone just by looking at them, but you are gorgeous and anyone here with eyes in their head can see that and would find you very fuckable.”

“I do not care to have someone to merely desire to fuck me,” he replies coolly. “There are vampiresses with whom one can have a brief interaction with to scratch that particular itch.” And now I’m immediately—and foolishly—jealous of all the vampiresses he has slept with over the centuries. “I do not seek or desire that attention. I would rather be desired for myself.”

“Well, I guess I’m very lucky, then, because allure or not, you’re all mine,” I reply cheerfully, resting my head against his chest. “I wouldn’t have you any other way. You’re perfect as you are.”

It feels almost strange echoing words that my mother said to me just a few days ago, but it is no less true. Beneath my cheek, I feel his chest expand as he draws in a deep breath and his wings fold around me to hold me closer in his embrace as we move through the steps of the dance.

We aren’t dancing for long before we bump into something that clatters noisily. As one we glance over at it, and a startled yelp escapes me even as Reynard drags me tightly against him with his wings as he growls loudly. There, dancing wobblily is an honest-to-gods humanoid skeleton. Although there’s no tissue remaining to identify what it is—whether human or another being—the large patches of moss and mold spores clinging to him belong to something that freshly escaped from its grave. At contact with me and my suddenly agitated power, the spores begin to bloom into grotesque weeping fungi.

---