adjustment was pure bullshit, but the indulgent smile he was aiming at the towheaded tot was the real deal. It made no sense at all because he was otherwise a ruthless, scheming son of a bitch with a take-no-prisoners attitude when it came to getting what he wanted. But there you go. Humans are weird, and vampires used to be human. And they sure as hell didn’t lose any of their quirks when they transitioned.
“He’s a fine boy,” Mircea told Claire, who had stuffed her hands behind her back, probably to keep them from snatching her baby back. But then Mircea transferred the smile to her, all whiskey-dark eyes with little crinkles at the corners, and honest, self-deprecating humor—the kind that had made him the most successful negotiator the Senate had ever had. And Claire blinked.
It was funny, because she relaxed almost to the point of smiling. And then got angry at herself for it and tensed up again, only to bite her lip in confusion as two strong instincts battled it out. I thought there was a chance that the great negotiator might actually lose this round,because Claire had taken overprotectiveness to a whole new level. But then—
“Does anybody care that I’m dying out here?”
I sighed, turned off the water and went back into the hall, only to find Ray rubbing himself lewdly on the wallpaper. He’d already singed it in a long, dark streak, which was less of a concern than the eww factor. “Quit that!” I told him, and grabbed his tie.
“Don’t start,” he gasped. “I got hemorrhoids that don’t hurt this bad.”
“Vampires don’t get hemorrhoids.”
“We don’t get ’em, no. But if we already got ’em when we die, they stick around, and I’ve been nursing these for four hundred years. So don’t tell me I don’t know pain, okay? I
know
pain, and this—”
“I won’t tell you anything if you’ll just
stop talking.
” I spun him around, bent him over and dumped half a gallon of water onto his smoking ass.
Which just made it smoke more, and start to sizzle. “Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to put the fire out,” I said, starting to get worried, because that should have worked. But then, what did I know? I’d set plenty of vamps ablaze through the years, but this was the first time I’d tried to extinguish one. And it didn’t appear to be going well.
“A little help here,” I said, sticking my head back into the kitchen.
“Try this,” Claire said, grabbing something out of a cabinet. “I keep it around for kitchen burns and it’s usually really—”
She stopped because she’d gotten close enough to catch sight of Ray, on the floor with his butt in the air, like the world’s worst stripper. The khakis were still in place, thank God, but the seat had burnt out in two little moons, like assless chaps. The image was heightened by the fact that he was grinding and humping and wiggling in a way that would have gotten him a g-string full of exactly nothing because nobody was going to pay to see that.
“I told you to cut it out,” I said, jerking him up.
“And I told you to
do
something, and I ain’t seen—” He paused when I shoved the small jar of ointment into his hand. “What’s this?”
“The cure for what ails you.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Spread it on.” And he turned his back and bent over again.
I looked hopefully at Claire, who had trained as a nurse. But it looked like the Florence Nightingale gene stopped just short, because she was in full-on retreat. Great.
I regarded the gyrating moons, which were currently as smooth as a baby’s bottom since most of the hair had singed off.
Just when you think the day can’t get any worse
, I thought grimly. And then I slapped on a palm-ful of pale green goo.
“
OW!
What the hell?”
“Hold still,” I told him, smacking on another blob. The stuff was slippery and it kept oozing off the burnt part.
“How can I hold still when you’re beating on me? Hey,
“He’s a fine boy,” Mircea told Claire, who had stuffed her hands behind her back, probably to keep them from snatching her baby back. But then Mircea transferred the smile to her, all whiskey-dark eyes with little crinkles at the corners, and honest, self-deprecating humor—the kind that had made him the most successful negotiator the Senate had ever had. And Claire blinked.
It was funny, because she relaxed almost to the point of smiling. And then got angry at herself for it and tensed up again, only to bite her lip in confusion as two strong instincts battled it out. I thought there was a chance that the great negotiator might actually lose this round,because Claire had taken overprotectiveness to a whole new level. But then—
“Does anybody care that I’m dying out here?”
I sighed, turned off the water and went back into the hall, only to find Ray rubbing himself lewdly on the wallpaper. He’d already singed it in a long, dark streak, which was less of a concern than the eww factor. “Quit that!” I told him, and grabbed his tie.
“Don’t start,” he gasped. “I got hemorrhoids that don’t hurt this bad.”
“Vampires don’t get hemorrhoids.”
“We don’t get ’em, no. But if we already got ’em when we die, they stick around, and I’ve been nursing these for four hundred years. So don’t tell me I don’t know pain, okay? I
know
pain, and this—”
“I won’t tell you anything if you’ll just
stop talking.
” I spun him around, bent him over and dumped half a gallon of water onto his smoking ass.
Which just made it smoke more, and start to sizzle. “Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to put the fire out,” I said, starting to get worried, because that should have worked. But then, what did I know? I’d set plenty of vamps ablaze through the years, but this was the first time I’d tried to extinguish one. And it didn’t appear to be going well.
“A little help here,” I said, sticking my head back into the kitchen.
“Try this,” Claire said, grabbing something out of a cabinet. “I keep it around for kitchen burns and it’s usually really—”
She stopped because she’d gotten close enough to catch sight of Ray, on the floor with his butt in the air, like the world’s worst stripper. The khakis were still in place, thank God, but the seat had burnt out in two little moons, like assless chaps. The image was heightened by the fact that he was grinding and humping and wiggling in a way that would have gotten him a g-string full of exactly nothing because nobody was going to pay to see that.
“I told you to cut it out,” I said, jerking him up.
“And I told you to
do
something, and I ain’t seen—” He paused when I shoved the small jar of ointment into his hand. “What’s this?”
“The cure for what ails you.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Spread it on.” And he turned his back and bent over again.
I looked hopefully at Claire, who had trained as a nurse. But it looked like the Florence Nightingale gene stopped just short, because she was in full-on retreat. Great.
I regarded the gyrating moons, which were currently as smooth as a baby’s bottom since most of the hair had singed off.
Just when you think the day can’t get any worse
, I thought grimly. And then I slapped on a palm-ful of pale green goo.
“
OW!
What the hell?”
“Hold still,” I told him, smacking on another blob. The stuff was slippery and it kept oozing off the burnt part.
“How can I hold still when you’re beating on me? Hey,
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