Page 39 of Death Dance

“How many stakes do you need?”

“I need enough to make a stake machine gun so I can rapid fire at that bastard.”

My husband sighed, shook his head, and transferred a piece of his sushi to my plate. “I did not bring the materials for you to make a machine gun that uses stakes as ammunition.”

As my stomach demanded even more food, I accepted his offering and popped it into my mouth. Once I finished savoring the delectable bite, I said, “That implies you have made machine guns that use stakes as ammunition.” I narrowed my eyes. “Ben?”

“We have three such machines, and one even works, albeit with a firing rate of only twelve stakes a minute.”

Well, I wouldn’t be engaging in a mass murder with that weapon. How disappointing. “Do we have crossbows we can load with stakes?”

“We have plenty of those, but the stakes have to be carved to a set size,” Ben reported. “We even have some with us, and for some reason, we have a new one that is the same purple as your SUV.”

Nice. “I will be carving stakes for my new crossbow, and somebody will be teaching me how to use it.” To make it clear I was giving orders rather than making requests, I lifted my chin and engaged my husband in a staring contest. “I have no desire to engage in a valorous and stupid battle with this fuckwit. If I can take him out with a crossbow stake to the heart, I will. I don’t care how this filth’s tyranny ends so long as it ends.”

My husband transferred another piece of his sushi to my plate. “Charlie, do you have any ranged offensive abilities?”

My father made a thoughtful sound. My brothers refused to meet my gaze, and I considered each one. “What secret are you hiding this time, Father? You have many secrets, and you should share more of them with me. I am your favorite daughter.”

“You are my only daughter.”

“That puts me in the double favorite category, the supreme child ruler of our family line. I am willing to accept this prestigious position if you explain why my brothers all appear to have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.”

“Our cookie jar is made from the holy fires of the sun, Pepper,” my father informed me, his tone solemn. “That is why you struggle so much in the sun when you seek rest and lack purpose for being out and about in the day. The sun’s warmth burns within us. We are everything the rest of our family is not—and they are everything we are not. They are the night. We are the day. Take Eugene, for example.”

“Please don’t,” my brother complained. “You’ll use me as a bad example.”

“Most days, I would without hesitation, but today, I will show some pity for you, my youngest and most spoiled son.”

I snickered. “Just spit it out before dinner is even more awkward than it already is.”

“Once you embrace the full power of our heritage, you must be careful. It is much like the faith that birthed vampires. The powers we wield lack sentience. It does not understand morality. It has no concept of good nor evil. It can be taught, in time, but that teaching is self-control over our emotions. The first time your brother killed with his will and the holy fires of the sun alone, he witnessed an atrocity. It was better for us all if the monster he vanquished fell, but it was the first—and last—time he killed without deliberate intent. His fury over the injustice of it all stoked the flames, they manifested and eradicated that piece of filth from this world. He required therapy. You have emerged from the mishaps of your youth and the circumstances surprisingly healthy, really.”

“Well, I am a bloodsucking vampire,” I reminded him. “And I was a bloodsucking lawyer before I became a vampire. You did quite a good job preparing me for my life as Emerick’s ruler. I might even give you two mugs for Christmas this year.”

My husband sighed and shook his head. “Does telling yourself that make you feel a little better about things?”

I could understand why he might think that, and upon taking a few moments to consider my behavior, I agreed with him. “It really does.”

“Very well. You can praise your father for your current position as a bloodsucking lawyer and vampire destined to rule over me.”

His exasperated tone made me giggle, and I liberated a piece of sushi from his plate. “I would be upset about the unexpected murder of a user, abuser, or other vile entity, but I can’t say I’d be sad about killing them. I’ve gotten quite good at dispatching miscreants with little care over it. I only care about those left behind. I do want closure for their families. And well, if those families are the ones responsible for how the miscreants turned out, they need to deal with some justice, too.”

My father sighed. “I wish you the best of luck tempering her nature, Emerick.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. Do you have a general plan for how we’re going to deal with Breckenan?”

“It depends on how he approaches us. If he approaches by sea, he will find himself regretting his choice. Every entity aboard is quite interested, ready, and willing to dispatch him. There will be fighting over the body. That includes Breanna. Her team will be teaching her how to go about ending vampires she does not want in her space.”

Good. If something happened to my childhood friend, I would never forgive myself. “Do we have anything concrete about Breckenan? His fighting style? His favorite food? Anything?”

My father shrugged. “I can tell you that he is hiring out a lot of the dirty work. He isn’t the one handling his kidnappings directly. He’s layering his contracts, which is why isolating him and his behavior cost me as much time and money as it did. It didn’t help I had to put on a show for the rest of the world. The show element bothered me a great deal less than my difficulties tracking him down. Most of it is beginner’s luck, fortunately. He has been making everything up as he goes, which makes him unpredictable at best. As he isn’t following a specific methodology, we’ve been having to think sideways to follow him. However, I don’t think he’s at all proficient in combat based on Clarke’s accounting of the situation. The only reason they caught Clarke was magic and numbers. Any vampire can be subdued with enough enemies and sufficient magic.”

Considering we’d been using numbers to bring in the abused vampires and rescue them, I believed my father. “What about Alheen? How much might he know about Breckenan’s combat abilities?”

“Unfortunately, he knows nothing. The other vampires did the fighting for Breckenan.” My father growled, picked up a piece of sushi from his plate, and popped it into his mouth. He went for his phone next, stabbed at the screen with his finger, and muttered a few curses. “There. They will bring out a sushi tower we will have to work to conquer.” He sent another text. “I have also requested your favorite steak. They have my gravy recipe, and they’ll be using some of your Wagyu so it’s correct.”

Before I could stop myself, I licked my lips. “I get a gravy volcano?”