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then there was Cirino, who was like an adopted brother. There was Taran and Viktor, my ex-stepbrothers, although I didn't really know them, as my mother had been married to their father before I re-met her.
Sarah snoozed, mumbling incoherently.
"That's not right," she muttered, her eyelids fluttering.
I kissed her and stroked her hair. She muttered again, this time she said my name. Reese. I focused my hearing on David, and I carefully left my room and closed the door. I went to the room that Father had put David in. I heard them talking. I knocked on the door.
"Come in," Father said. "It's okay, David, it's just Reese."
I entered the room, and David was sitting on the bed, with Father standing over him. I closed the door behind me.
"So...you’re my brother," I said.
David nodded.
“Okay, um…what do you want to know?” I asked.
“Everything,” he said.
“Okay, well, you know me, obviously. And you’ve met my girlfriend, Sarah. Fiancée, actually. She’s going to officially be my wife in December, on the Winter Solstice. We’re currently working on the invitations and everything. I met her four years ago, but we first got together two years ago. She had been….assaulted…and I saved her. I started dating her and testified against Michael Nales on her behalf.”
“Do you have any other siblings? And what about you, Father? Are you married?”
“No, I’m not married, but I do have another brother, an adopted one, named Mathias. We have a history, so to speak. I don’t talk about him much, and don’t ever mention him in front of Soren. He’s sensitive about it. Not about having an adopted brother, but Mathias has had a long and difficult life. My brother and I were partly to blame for that…actually, we were fully to blame for it. It’s a long and tragic story, but it is important to our family history. Reese didn’t even know it until recently. I regret not telling him sooner, but I didn’t think he was ready.”
“Father babies me,” I told David.
“I do,” Father admitted. “I can’t help it. A vampire parent’s instincts are much stronger than a human’s instincts, especially the maternal instinct. The relationship between Reese and I or Marina and her children are the norm, while relationships like Soren’s and Louis’ are rare. Louis can barely stand Soren these days. Resents, him, I think, for the tragedies he’s caused and the strife he’s put us through. Soren himself is sensitive about it, so again, don’t mention it in front of him. Soren blames himself for our mother’s death and the death of his wife, Alga. He also blames himself for the recent events that caused turmoil for us.”
“What are those events?” David asked.
Father explained about the Book of Transformation and Death, how it had caused problems for centuries, what had occurred that time in the Night Market with Uncle Soren and Samuel, how Alana was powerful and magical, and how Samuel Jr. had been killed in the process, and Samuel’s plan for revenge, and the spell that resurrected the dead.
David listened with rapt attention, his eyes going wider and wider with every few lines of description and clarification.
I could tell he was confused, but he still listened carefully, as if it was the most important piece of the puzzle. After the explanation, David actually looked paler, if that was possible. And then Father told David that the book had been destroyed, but the spells were still in effect.
My brother looked both amazed and confused.

I heard the telltale sound of my stepfather’s Bugatti Veyron that he’d bought for my mother for their wedding. I headed outside, along with Sarah, who was now sipping an iced tea. There was a passenger in my mother’s car, and when she stepped out, I was amazed at how much she looked like Mother and Selena.
Her skin was rough, her eyes lined with crow’s feet, her hair just as wildly curly, long, and the color of black ink. She had the same crystal-blue eyes, the same curvy figure, with exaggerated hips and chest. She wore a long crimson velvet skirt and a fitted brown top. On her feet she wore flat boots.
“Is this him?” she asked in an ancient-sounding Greek accent. “You’re right; he is handsome. He has my hair color, but he’s got your father’s nose.” The woman laughed. “A family curse, eh, Marina?” Mom didn’t say anything.
“Just who do you think you are?” Sarah asked, and I quickly covered her mouth with my hand.
“Watch your tongue, girl, before I snatch it from your mouth. I can turn you into a toad easily with a snap of my fingers.”
“She apologizes,” I apologized.
“And so protective of that insolent little harlot!”
“Watch it,” Mother warned. “She’s my child just as much as he is.”
“But she’s not actually your child, is she?” The woman laughed.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, I jumped, but it was only Father, along with David, Louis, and Uncle Soren.
“Hello, Satira,” he said glumly.
She nodded at him. “Mordecai.”
“Dad, who is this?” I asked.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and he looked at Mother, who nodded.
“My mother-in-law, also known as your grandmother,” he said.
“Cranky old bitch, isn’t she?” Louis said.
Satira eyed him. “And just who are you, the king of royally irritating self-centered annoying little brats?”
“Hey, I may be a brat, but one thing I am not is self-centered.”
Uncle Soren snorted.
“More relatives?” I groaned. “Are there any more I should know about? Maybe a third cousin or two?”
“It was your mother’s decision not to tell you about her, not mine,” Father said.
Satira shook her head. “Shameful.”
“I don’t tell you about every girlfriend I’ve ever had,” Father said.
“Have you been married before Mom?”
“Oh, sure…plenty of times. But it never produced anything. I think I’m a seed that’s meant to bear only one fruit, and that’s you. I mean, you and David,” he said, glancing back at my brother.
Satira shook her head. “A man who can’t produce any seeds is a man who does not deserve to live.”
“Mother!” Mom shouted. “What about me? None of my babies lived until I became a vampire.”
Satira merely shook her head again. “When I was human, I was a midwife. I helped deliver babies of the royal court. I nursed them and bathed them. When I married Balthazar, I knew I would have lots of little ones, but I only produced you and your sisters.”
“Are my sisters and I not enough?”
“What’s the point of having lots of babies if I do not produce at least one son?”
“Old-fashioned old buzzard,” Louis muttered. “Do you know that some women choose not to have babies at all? And that’s okay. I mean, it’s their decision.”
I was surprised to hear something so feministic coming out of his mouth.
“I was forced to have a baby,” Sarah said, and we all looked at her. “Lady, I was raped. I got pregnant, and I couldn’t abort him due to family values. So I was forced to have a C-section, because I’m too small down there to have a safe birth. I’m still his mother, but part of me wishes he’d been born to somebody else…Marina, maybe. She’s a better mother than I ever could be.”
“Mouthy girl,” Satira said. She turned and crossed her arms, then grinned over her shoulder. “I see the Major Arcana,” she said. “The Lovers. Eilief is the Hierophant. Krauvas is the Magician.”
“You know Krauvas?” I interrupted.
“Shush, boy. And yes, I know Krauvas. He and I used to date. My daughter is the Mother.”
“There is no Major Arcana called the Mother,” Sarah interrupted this time. “I know. I’ve been studying the cards.”
“Soren is the Hanged Man,” Satira continued. “Mordecai is Justice.”
“What’s she talking about?” I asked.
“She’s comparing us to tarot cards, specifically the Major Arcana,” Sarah said. Then she turned to Satira. “Why don’t you just tell us what you want and get it over with?”
“Don’t be rude, Sarah,” I warned.
“She’s right to be rude,” Mother said. “My mother never wants anything to do with any of us unless she wants something. What is it this time? Money? Wine?”
“I have an offer to make,” Satira said.
Silence. And then. “No. No freaking way.”
“Don’t listen to her, kids,” Dad said. “She is a master of the dark arts. She’d twist a knife in your back as soon as you turn it.”
“Is resurrection really such a bad thing?” Satira asked.
“Lady, we don’t know what the fuck you’re babbling about,” Louis snapped.
“Yes, resurrection is normally considered black magic,” Dad said.
“Unless you mean the resurrection of Jesus Christ,” Sarah added.
“No, girl, I don’t mean the resurrection of Jesus Christ. I mean the resurrection of Sadie and Faolan.”
“She’s lying,” Father said. “Don’t listen to her. Magic always has a price. What do you want, Satira? And no bullshit this time.”
“I want the souls of Reese and Selena,” Satira said.
It all happened in a flash. Mother turned and slugged her own mother, and Satira was on the ground, holding a fat lip.
“You’re not taking my children!” Mother cried.
“What’s so bad about taking their souls?” David asked. It was the first time he’d spoken up.
“They will still be alive, but they won’t be themselves,” Father said. “What makes them them will cease to exist. They will become vampire zombies.”
“Cool,” Louis said. Uncle Soren whacked him on the back of the head. “I mean, not cool. I mean, that’s something I didn’t know about, and I know everything.”
He was sadly mistaken in that regard. Uncle Soren made to hit Louis again, but this time he flinched, and Uncle Soren backed off.
Satira picked herself up off the ground, still holding her left cheek. Huh. I had not seen Mother hit her cheek, only her mouth. But pain can travel sometimes, so maybe that was it. Then a girl appeared, and Uncle Soren let out a whoop.
The girl looked amazingly like Mitra. Same hairstyle and shade, same sharp features and almond-shaped brown eyes, same thin body type with small breasts and a cute butt. She wore a faded white t-shirt that referenced Wonder Woman, pale blue jeans, and military-style boots. She carried a backpack around her back and a brown crossbody purse.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a wand. She handed it to Satira, who said, “Thank you, Cholena.” Satira turned to us. “I believe you’re all familiar with the child of Mitra Dearwood and Katonah Wolfe?”
“The child of Mitra…” Uncle Soren began. He stared at the girl, who glared back.
“You killed my mother.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement. Her voice was soft and dainty, slightly high-pitched. It was different from Mitra’s big booming alto voice.
“So is your last name Dearwood or Wolfe?” Louis asked.
“It’s hyphenated,” Cholena replied. “Which one of you is Soren?”
“That would be me,” Uncle Soren said. “I loved your mother, Cholena, and she loved me. She was torn between her vows to your father and her unconditional love for me.”
Her features softened, and she started to approach him. Chirag, one of our guards, made a move to stop her, but Uncle Soren told Chirag to let her approach him.
She slowly approached him, and it struck me how tiny she was, especially compared to him. She was shorter than Sarah, and thinner than Mitra. I could almost see her ribs through her shirt.
She looked at all of us, her eyes lingering on Sarah, who stared back icily. I wondered if she had lady-loving inclinations. And then she kicked Uncle Soren in the crotch.
He fell over, clutching his privates, cursing her out loud.
“You’re responsible for my mom’s death, pencil-dick, so

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