“Considine! You’re here!” Margarida leaned over the banister and waved to me before she turned a disapproving pout on Killian. “I told you to call us when he got here, Little Killi. Why didn’t you?”
I turned to Killian. “Yes, Little Killi, why didn’t you call them?”
Killian gave me a murderous look as Margarida swept down the stairs, wearing a sundress that was covered with bright orange flowers that vaguely reminded me of 70’s fashion.
“Don’t waste your breath, Margarida. Where do you think Killian keeps disappearing off to randomly? They’re obviously in cahoots together.” Baldwin—wearing a suit that didn’t look brand new—which meant it was probably only a year or two old but would be fun to rub in his bankrupt face—grumbled as he followed after his sister, groaning like a teenager and his steps both gangly and pouty.
Killian’s disappearing? Interesting, that must be when he sneaks off to meet his One.
I knew he was protective of her, but I didn’t think he’d hide her so carefully from his siblings—none of them would ever lift a finger to do anything to his One. Not only were they inherently lazy, but they were nearly as scared of Killian as they were of me.
“You’ve caught out our scheme, Baldwin!” I cheerfully agreed, if only to throw the lot of them off. “This has all been one good prank. I lured you here to the USA so Killian could attack and secretly take over all your Families, to unite all the Dracos offspring under a single banner.”
Baldwin paused at the last step and hurriedly pulled out his cellphone—likely to start firing off frantic texts.
Margarida just shook her head. “Killian wouldn’t go for that,” she said. “He’d never be able to stand all the additional paperwork it would bring, and additional management over our vampire children,” she wisely—and accurately said. She turned in a dainty half circle, to call up to the landing. “Isn’t that right, you two?”
The twins, Amée and Auberi, had been tapping away on their phones, but seemed pleased with whatever their Family had reported as they put their phones away and started down the stairs, eyeing me with a mixture of curiosity and fear.
Amée was in an evening gown—one made of pink silk—that hugged her waist and flowed all the way to the floor in a fluid style.
Auberi was in white trousers and suitcoat combo, with a white hat and blue and white striped undershirt.
Together they perhaps looked to be dressed in a more classic style but recalling how much Auberi loved the naval style clothes from the 1930s, it was likely their clothes were original outfits from the time and not a modern take.
“Considine,” Amée curtsied. Her brother bowed.
I waved them off. “I’m here—as requested. What did you want?”
“I just wanted you to come to dinner—so we could make it a Family affair,” Margarida said.
“How many times must we say it, Margarida? He’s not our sire,” Amée said.
“Indeed,” Killian checked his phone. “If he were, he never would have put up with the lot of you. Dinner will be in the dining hall. This way.”
Killian led us through the bottom level of his house, taking us to the dining hall—an awkwardly long room that had been built to house a long banquet table that could seat dozens of vampires if you packed them in tight enough.
The room was graced with low lighting, which cast a comfortable feeling on the long table that was covered with silver dishes of steaming food and both heated and chilled mugs of blood.
I sat down at the head of the table—I didn’t want any of the siblings in my space—and selected a frosted glass of blood, ignoring the food. （I’d likely have to eat a few bites the next time I was with Jade. Human food nutritionally didn’t do anything for vampires—the only thing that kept a vampire from entering a ravenous state was blood—and it didn’t taste strongly anymore so I didn’t really care for eating it.）
Margarida gave Killian a side hug, which he reluctantly returned as a rare sign of actual affection for his sibling. “Thank you, Killian.” She smiled at him before floating off to a chair.
Killian waved her off. “Of course,” he said. “Though I would like to ask you all when you will be assured that Considine is indeed in good health and is not on the brink of a mental breakdown, so you can leave.”
“I don’t think he’s having a breakdown; I think he’s planning something.” Baldwin violently stabbed a steak on one of the platters and dropped it on his plate with a splat. “I’ll leave only when I’m assured that whatever life he’s wrecking isn’t mine.”