Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
When her tears finally stopped, Alessia rested her head on his shoulder. Her tears had soaked through the shirt under her cheek. Titus didn’t scroll on his phone. He wasn’t communicating with anyone mentally. She had his entire attention.
“Hey, Little mate. Do you feel better?”
“Mentally exhausted,” she confessed.
Titus stood with her cradled against his chest. “Then we take nap.”
“You’re going back to bed with me?” Alessia asked. While part of her wanted to curl up under the covers and escape, she wasn’t that kind of tired. If he lay down with her, she could convince him to distract her another way.
“I will stay with you while you doze in your nursery.”
“I just woke up. I won’t be able to sleep.”
Titus studied her face for a minute before shaking his head. “Of course not.” He set her feet on the carpet as he thought for a few seconds.
Soon, he suggested, “I haven’t shown you the finger paints in your nursery. Would you like to create a picture for me to display?”
“Like for your bedroom?” she asked.
“For our bedroom? Yes. I’ve thought the room needed a splash of color on the east wall for years.”
She sat up straight, picturing the wall going into the bathroom. Was that east? “Maybe you could make one as well. Surely the west one needs art.”
“If adding a personal touch makes you happy, Little mate, we can redecorate every single inch of space in this mansion.”
“That would take a while,” she teased.
“We’ve got all the time in the world, Little mate,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go.”
Titus set off at an eager pace. Alessia skipped to keep up with him, giggling happily as they walked through the vast interior spaces of the home. Along the way, Titus pointed at different pieces of art, suggesting she replace those ones as well.
“And that bronze thing! Who needs a sculpture of a long-dead girl in their foyer?”
“Daddy! That’s one of Degas’s ballet dancers. You can’t put that in the basement to collect dust,” Alessia protested.
“I was thinking doorstop, but we could simply conceal the bodies in the basement,” Titus suggested. “Degas didn’t cast the mold. His family had the statue created from his wax and plasticine sculpture.”
“You are so bad. Hide the bodies in the basement,” she repeated. Alessia stopped in her tracks. She shivered slightly. How well did she know Titus?
Alessia forced herself to be brave and asked, “You don’t really have dead people hidden below us, do you?”
“No, Little mate,” he said, smiling at her fondly. He tugged her back into motion, and they passed the freshly polished staircase. Almost there.
“I’d love to learn more about you and the other….”
“Bartenders?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“No, Daddy.” Alessia rolled her eyes so hard she thought she heard them. “Vampires.”
“You can ask me anything, Alessia. If I can tell you, I will.”
“There are secrets you can’t tell me?”
“Of course. Vampires have existed for a long time without elimination. Why do you think we’ve made up so many myths about ourselves? Some total lies have hung around for years—shifting into a bat, being unable to survive in the sun, the disco ball effect of sparkling in the sunlight….”
“All those horror movies! Vampires made those on purpose?” she asked.
“Turn one director into a vampire and see how well the misinformation campaign works….”
“No way! There’s a vampire moviemaker?”
“Along with practically every other profession. Where do you think blood banks came from?” he asked as he opened the nursery door.
“You’re lying!” she accused, giving him side-eye as she entered.
“Completely.”
“Daddy!”
“Sorry, Little mate. That was too much fun. I’m serious. Ask me anything you want. I’ll try to answer for you.”
“Do vampires need blood to survive?”
“They do. Drinking from someone’s vein is also an erotic delight with the right person.”
“Like when we make love?” she asked.
“Exactly like that. Now would you like to finger paint, or shall we rock and talk?” Titus asked with a smile.
Alessia considered her choices. She could ask questions at any time. Being active would help her forget the bad news about Enzo’s plans. “Let’s get artsy!”
He winked at her and turned to the closet. “Good choice. We need to have some fun. Want to help me spread out this tarp so we don’t finger paint the carpet?”
Alessia jumped in to help with the preparations. In a few short minutes, they both wore aprons to protect their clothing and had large sheets of paper ready for their creations. As she picked her first color, Alessia thanked her luck for getting sent to Nightfall. Titus was so much fun.
A couple of hours later, Alessia had paint in her hair and all over her apron. Polka dots in a variety of colors decorated her forearms. She had finished three fingerpainted masterpieces that hung drying on the rack Titus had found somewhere. His two were interspersed between hers. She looked at the latest one he’d finished.