Page 40 of Slaying With Sylphs (Haven Ever After #6)

CHAPTER ONE - MAKING OUT WITH MERMAIDS

BETMAL (unedited)

S miling, I straighten my fitted vest and step through the glittering green portal surface and into the translucent hallway that’ll take me straight to Ever. It’s the last of many trips, I hope, as I leave the haven that’s been my home for so long.

The reality is that I won’t miss much about Hearth Headquarters. I lived here only because my mates lived and worked here.

If I can even call them mates. I certainly don’t think of them that way, not after everything that’s happened over the last thousand or so years.

Focusing to relax the automatic tension in my jaw when I think of Evenia and Aberen, I release the agitation and stride confidently through the portal hall, emerging on the other side in Ever haven’s portal station.

The first two monsters I see are my son, Abemet, and his wife, Morgan.

“Betmal!” she shouts, lurching forward to fling herself into my arms. She squeezes my neck until I can barely breathe, laughing and making happy noises as my son watches silently. A tiny smile tips his lips upward.

I return Morgan’s hug, but eventually I set her down.

She steps back and grins at me. “Please tell me Evenia caused some sort of a scene on the way out, and you got to verbally bitch slap her in front of all of HQ? Please tell me it happened because I’ve been having dreams about it.”

A laugh bubbles from my throat, but I shake my head. “Sorry to disappoint, darling girl, but she did not show.” I glance at Abemet, trying to decide if I should speak ill of his mother and other father. Ultimately, I decide it’s fine. We all know whose son Abe truly is. I return Morgan’s feral grin. “Aberen did see fit to send me a gorgeous bouquet of poisoned blood roses.”

Morgan gasps, and Abe snorts out an amused laugh.

Gray eyes narrowing in fury, Morgan crosses her arms, one foot tapping on the tiled floor of Ever’s beautiful portal station. “He poisoned you?”

“Purely symbolic,” I assure her. “A last, ‘fuck you’, if you will. He would never expect me to fall for the trick and actually be poisoned.”

“I swear to gods,” she huffs, “if either of them show their face in Ever, I’m gonna get Lou to run them through with her blue magic. She could do it, too.”

“But a blue witch never would,” I remind my daughter in law. “Spiteful as Lou might feel on my behalf, she’s born to protect.”

The noise that erupts from Morgan is half irritated and half conniving. I’ve gotten the chance to know my son’s witchy mate well, and if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that she will hold a grudge until the day she dies.

Abe clears his throat. “I’ve already made it clear that Evenia and Aberen are not welcome in Ever, not for any reason.” He shrugs and reaches for my bag. “It won’t stop Mother from coming if she sees something to crow about, but barring that, they’re not likely to show up any time soon.” He tosses my bag over his muscular shoulder and jerks his head toward the exit. “Shall we? A lovely cottage popped up on the edge of town. Something tells me it has your name on it.”

Morgan’s fierce look morphs into a smile as she tosses her sheet of auburn hair over her shoulder. “It’s adorable, too. We hope you love it! We’re just so glad you’re finally here for good.” She glances up at me, batting her lashes coyly. “Maybe now that you’re here and…unencumbered, you might find a lovely monstress to date who likes you for you.”

I chuckle as she slips her arm through mine, holding onto my biceps as I guide her to follow Abe. “I’m not worried about that in the slightest, darling. Entanglements happen when and where they want to, but it’s not my focus.” Resting my hand over the one she has wrapped around my arm, I grin more broadly. “I want to spend time with you two and reconnect with friends who live here. I couldn’t be more excited for that.”

She squeezes me tighter as we exit the cavernous portal station and emerge deep inside the forest in what’s known as Shifter Hollow, the part of Ever reserved for shifters, centaurs and pegasi. For the next half hour, Morgan regales me with tales of the shifter queen and her mate who rule from the Hollow. Apparently, the queen is now on a musical tour, being a literal as well as figurative rock star.

“She’s the coolest monster I’ve ever met,” Morgan gushes, glancing at Abe with a quick nip of her lower lip. “Besides Abe, of course.”

I look at my son as he strides confidently up the street a pace ahead of us. My intuitive gift pings. Abe’s happy. More than happy. He’s at peace. He’s got Morgan after hundreds of years of wanting her. He waited for so long. I love that the read I get on him now is peaceful comfort.

“There it is,” he says now, pointing toward a curve in Sycamore Street.

I bring my hand to my forehead, shading my eyes from Ever’s bright sun as I focus up the road a bit. At the edge of the street’s curve, I can just see a gravel driveway.

Abe pauses as Morgan and I stop next to him. He looks at me with all his characteristic seriousness. “I think you’ll be pleased, Father. The home is gorgeous. Gothic yet modern. I had a hand in a bit of the design, although Ever does what she wants when homes pop up, as you know.”

Ah, that little bit of magic is something I insisted on when monster leadership designed the haven system all those centuries ago. It’s a compatibility spell of sorts, ensuring that those who belong in specific havens are given every reason to stay. Magical houses popping up out of nowhere certainly does make one want to remain.

Excitement warms me from the inside. I clap my son on the shoulder. “Thank you, Abemet. I can’t wait to see what you and Ever have cooked up.”

His lips tilt upward. It’s been a long time since he worked as an architect, and these days he’s all but retired. But I know my son, and I know it won’t be long until he gets the itch to work again. Although I suppose spending his time keeping up with his brilliant, fierce mate is perhaps all he has time for.

He takes off again, leading us to the curve in the road. Once we arrive at the driveway, I see my new home for the first time. Pride rushes through me, knowing that the town itself built this home for me, but that Abe had a hand in her design.

Morgan jogs ahead to catch up with her mate, clinging to his arm as they walk peacefully up the driveway with my luggage. I follow, admiring the bones of the home.

Wide black stone steps lead to a curved arch with a recessed front door. The entryway section of the house is built of pale gray stone with black trimmed windows and doors. To the right of the entryway, two giant sections arch like church windows. Intricately scrolled details give the entire house a gothic, yet modern, vibe. Even the roof tiles are black. Through expansive windows across the home’s front, interior lights shine pale yellow light on modern furnishings.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, knowing my son can hear the praise even from far away, good as vampire hearing is.

Abe spins and walks slowly backward, opening his arms wide. “I’ve imported quite a few furnishings for you but the house is well aware that you might choose to change some things. And I left the entire backyard alone, although I get the sense she might try to put a workshop of sorts back there.” His smile grows bigger. “I suppose that’ll be up to you.”

A workshop. He knows I love having a separate working space from my home. When he was a child, he often joined me in seeking solace from Evenia and Aberen. My workshop in the castle he grew up in was our little hideaway. Most of my fond memories from his childhood are times we spent together playing, working magic, learning about our innate vampiric abilities.

He flew for the first time by jumping off the workshop roof with me.

I absolutely must have a workshop here. But he’s right…it’s best if I create it in partnership with the house.

Abe and Morgan swing matching glossy black doors open.

“Welcome home, Betmal,” Morgan says quietly, her smile soft as I enter the house.

“Home, indeed,” I murmur, turning to stroke the matte black wallpaper covering every inch of the front entryway. Nearly all of the furnishings are dark, the entryway punctuated by just a singular modern concrete entry table. Glittering ornate lamps sit on either end, a giant bowl in the middle is full of stones.

I turn to Abe with a surprised look, pointing to the bowl. “Good luck stones from home? However did you manage that?”

For the first time, his grin is as feral as his mate’s can be. “Turns out the castle workshop still holds me in high regard. I was able to snatch these from the river while Evenia and Aberen were at work one day.”

A laugh bubbles out of my throat. Our former home was notoriously prickly and always loved my mates far more than it loved me. I always assumed that’s why the workshop popped up for Abe and me—that was our home, our place, our sanctuary away from the rest of the world.

Not that the world didn’t catch up with my son eventually. But thankfully, we’re past that these days.

“Now listen,” Morgan starts, striding into the entryway as she jerks a thumb toward the back of the home. “We thought it might be nice to cook you dinner, but I also recognize that you might want time to yourself. Please kick us out if you’d rather be al?—”

“Alone?” I cut in. “Never. I moved here to spend time with the two of you and I have no other priorities. I don’t even have a job anymore now that I extricated myself from my former partnership. But, allow me to do the cooking, please.”

She laughs. “As long as it’s not Abe. Cooking is not his forté.”

Abe pinches her playfully on the side. “You’ve never complained all that much about my cooking.”

“It’s awful, honey,” she says with a playful laugh. “Did you think I took over just ‘cause I love it?”

I clear my throat, drawing my daughter in law’s attention. “Do you have a dish in mind for tonight?”

She nods. “Yeah, I was going to test a lemon peel pesto on you. And then, of course, we stocked the fridge with imported blood from a place Abe says you like.” She falls silent. It’s an awkward topic. I should have sustained myself on my mates’ blood. But it’s been nearly a thousand years since I touched or drank from them. Still, I would never betray our bond, either, so I’ve been purchasing donated blood for that whole time, unwilling to hunt as my ancestors once did.

It’s uncouth, and if I had any other family still alive, they’d abhor it. But as they’re mostly all dead or so far removed that we never speak, I’m not fussed over the habit.

“That was generous, thank you,” I offer.

Pink tinges Morgan’s cheeks.

Pacing past her, I tuck my hands at my back and admire room after room of gorgeous gothic architecture with modern touches. Abe gets his love of this style from me, and over all the years I’ve lived, gothic modern remains my favorite type of design.

Eventually, we make our way to the kitchen, which sits at the back of the house. Black plated windows line the back wall and half of the ceiling, bringing in an incredible view of a clearing. Dense forest lies beyond that. A stack of wood sits in the clearing, a singular box of nails and a hammer on top of it.

Turning to Abe, I chuckle. “I see what you mean about the workshop. She’s ready to add on, clearly.”

He pats the countertop in a friendly way, and the house shudders, making her agreement known.

Morgan gets to work on dinner as Abe crafts elegant cocktails from a gorgeous bar inlaid into one wall of the kitchen. When he brings beautiful etched glass cocktail glasses from the bar, I sigh.

“You’ve thought of everything, darling.”

He fills my glass, then slides it across the black concrete bar to me. “Well, I learned from the best. Preparation is key, is it not?”

“Tis,” I agree, clinking my glass to his.

Dinner is delightful. Morgan has me in stitches, and Abe even laughs a time or two. It’s not in his nature to be outright joyful—his career training stole that from him—but he finds obvious pleasure in Morgan’s exuberance.

The meal is over far too soon, and my guests retire for the evening. If they’re anything like I was when I was newly mated, they can’t wait to get home and rip one another's clothes off.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to missing those days, when my mates and I seemed to live perpetually in a tangle of limbs, blood splattered across the sheets, our bodies reduced to live wires of pleasure. It’s been so long since then, I can scarcely remember what it feels like to be in love.

No. I fell out of love as quickly as I fell into it. If not for Abe and my desire to protect him from a harsh mother and an absentee second father, I wouldn’t have stayed as long as I did. Even then, I wasn’t able to fully protect him as Evenia became the most powerful monster in our world. I wasn’t there when she forced Abe to go through Keeper training and the painful ritual that stripped him of much of his innate personality, rewiring his brain to think in terms of pure logic.

I’ll never forgive myself for not seeing that coming, for not being there to save him from her. Even so, it worked out alright for him eventually. I have the gods to thank for that.

Night falls and I sit in front of the pale stone fireplace in my room. Arches soar up and cross the ceiling, giving the entire bedroom a vaguely churchlike feel. I’ve been alive since before the first church was ever built, but there’s something absolutely titillating about the idea of fucking in one.

Not that I moved to Ever to find physical pleasure. But I’m old enough to know that sometimes, the moments you’re not looking for something are the perfect moments to find it.