Page 37 of Plaidypus
“I’m not stepping into that trap, Mom.”
My mother giggled. “I did a great job raising you. Is it true we can look for suitable men? For introductions with no expectations of anything beyond your willingness to meet them.”
Well, damn. I couldn’t ask for a better offer than that. “That’s fine. I don’t mind meeting new people. I have a single criteria.”
“What is your criteria?”
“They have to make hot chocolate better than Leonard does. It’s a high bar to meet, and I’m aware my hot chocolate needs are rather absurd. If he can’t make hot chocolate, he isn’t going to last long in a relationship with me. And you can’t tell them how I like my hot chocolate. Leonard was able to figure it out, so if they can’t figure it out, tough luck for them.”
“That’s harsh,” my mother complained.
“I have needs, and my first close encounter with a bachelor involved him making me excellent hot chocolate. If the first one to cross my path can handle it, they should be able to handle it, too.” I eased my new opal collection into my trunk, making use of the mesh trunk divider to secure it. “I bought a lot of fragile rocks today. I’m having the CDC haul it to you in my truck. I am very fond of my new rock collection, so I am expecting you to treat it well.”
“I warned your brother you’d spend money at a rock show.” My mother sighed. “Opals, is it?”
“They’re carved to be flowers valued in the country the opals were mined in,” I reminded her. “Australia got a lot of love, but that makes sense, as Australia is the primary producer of opal. The carver picked the bunchberry for the Canadian flower.”
“Canada produces opal?”
“Canada does, but we only have one producing mine as far as I know.”
“Well, I learned something new today.”
I checked to make sure my new prizes were secure before closing the trunk and getting behind the wheel of my new car. “I really do like the car, Mom.”
“I’m glad, baby. Matthieu confessed how hard you’ve been struggling with the accident. A truck would be difficult to drive around a lot in New York, but we have the space to park it at our townhouse. We have six spots.”
“Six spots? Just how big is this townhouse?”
“It’s big enough. We just hate maintaining the yard, so we put down a parking pad in the back. There’s a street behind the townhouse, so we installed a gate so we can park cars in the yard. You’re lucky it’s an actual street and not an alley, or your truck wouldn’t fit at all. If a garbage truck can fit through there, your truck can, too.”
“Good logic,” I replied. “Okay. So, you won the lottery.”
“Trust me, I was surprised, too. We bought the townhouse and did some renovations, but beyond that, we haven’t touched most of the money. We took the bulk payout option, so while it was taxed to kingdom come, we still walked away with millions, which is millions more than we need. We’re saving most of it for our retirement, but new cars for our babies was an easy decision. And you got your new truck being your adorable self.”
“I made commentary about undead animals.”
“But you did so adorably.”
“Whatever you say, Mom. I’m going to resume my adventure as soon as I drop off my prizes with the truck. Matthieu is allowed to take Dad out in the truck and get mud on the tires, but make sure one of those vampires goes with them in case Matthieu has trouble.”
“I’ll let your father know he’s invited to go play with your truck. And we’ve already been given disclosure on how vampirism will change him, although he won’t be nearly as drastic as most vampires. The CDC rep and the visiting vampire—quite a nice gentleman, really—explained that Matthieu is quite special for a vampire.”
“How so?”
“He still has his soul. Apparently, vampires soul swap when they’re raised. But that’s not the case with Matthieu. While you were resting, the CDC brought in an angel to confirm the status of his soul. Matthieu is a souled vampire. I’m still not sure what that means, but the CDC was excited, as was the Chicago vampire who came and paid us a visit. The vampire would also like to meet you, as Matthieu becoming part of the Chicago brood means they have a debt.”
“Hardly. Matthieu was not part of any brood when I did what I needed to.”
“I told him you would argue, and he got a good chuckle out of it. Simply put, he feels you deserve appropriate compensation for the sacrifices you made. Donors are paid for helping vampires, and you did a lot more than a single donation, so you deserve compensation—and the brood pays that compensation. And there was something about paying off the previous master of the brood the vampire came from, and since Matthieu doesn’t have a brood and you’ve been caring for him, that’s you.”
Rather than give myself a headache rolling my eyes, I got behind the wheel of my car, inhaled until I could communicate without heaving a sigh or otherwise expression my exasperation over the situation, and said, “All right. This brood vampire can give me a call about it tomorrow. Today, I am running wild and free, and I expect to be encouraged to break off all communications until after I’ve checked out of my hotel and have had lunch.”
“I’ll suggest he call you around two.”
“Two sounds acceptable, and it’s my fault if I have a late lunch.” While I felt the vampire needed an introduction to common sense, I would listen to what he had to say.
I was among the first to admit I had a lot to learn about my brother’s second chance at life.
