Clearly, Muriel was about to embarrass herself with the fangirling she always made fun of when it came to my readers. The renowned sex therapist was my sister’s kryptonite. She’d been a big fan of “Let’s Talk Sex” when it had been on the air.
Prudence offered her hand to Muriel, who didn’t manage anything more than a gurgling sound as she shook it. I pounded her between the shoulder blades with a little more force than necessary—well deserved, since I’d lived with her incessant hazing ever since becoming well-known in my field. “It’s not nice to choke when we meet our idols, sis. Shake the nice lady’s hand and tell her what a fan you are.”
I almost felt bad when Muriel quickly nodded like one of those bobblehead dolls in people’s cars, her eyes glued to Prudence’s face. “Me. Muriel. Big fan. Have every book. Never missed a show.”
Winning my heart, Prudence knelt in front of my sister’s chair and held her arms open wide. “Well, honey. If you’re my biggest fan, then I’m gonna need the biggest ol’ hug.”
Muriel gulped and fell forward into Prudence’s embrace. Luckily, she seemed to have recovered the power of speech by the end. Muriel sat back, smiling wider than I’d ever seen. “Your hug felt so nice, I think I can quit being mad about having to leave all your books behind when we fled our home.”
Prudence stood, smiling as she gave a clap. “Say no more. I can fix your little problem, Muriel. I have dozens of copies of every title I’ve written right upstairs in my private office. It would be an honor to replace your collection with one signed by me.” A clock chimed somewhere deeper in the house, and Prudence frowned. “Oh my word, I’m forgetting the time. I came hunting for my son to tell him dinner was on the table. Let’s get in there before everyone gets antsy from waiting. I’ll set two more places in a jiffy.”
I hesitated, cautiously eyeing Darcy. He’d invited me but hadn’t gone so far as to say I could stay. “Perhaps we should clear our visit with your son first, Prudence. I wouldn’t want to overstep my welcome or force Darcy to act.”
Hands flying to her hips, Prudence glared at her son. “I heard everything they said, and I will not allow any son of mine to be so cruel as to turn away decent people who have come to him for sanctuary. This castle has been in his father’s family for four generations, and these walls have always offered security for everyone who dwelled inside.”
Darcy rubbed a hand over the top of his head, making his hair fly out in every direction from the static electricity. “I was about to invite them to stay before we were interrupted by someone who can’t keep her nose out of things. Especially if the word ‘dungeon’ is used.”
Prudence batted her eyes with a smile meant to look innocent. “Who, little ol’ me? Oh, honey. If you weren’t such a stick in the mud, you’d get the joke. Or better yet, your mind would go straight to sex dungeons too whenever you heard someone assume our basement must certainly contain a torture room. We live in a castle, dear. Such a thing really is to be expected.”
Darcy’s hand slid down to scrub his face as he shook his head. Sighing, he dropped his arm against his side. “Storm, I have rooms available on the family floor I can offer for you and Muriel. There’s even an elevator. It’s a dated relic from days long past, but well maintained and safe to use. I’m sorry, but I won’t put you on the lower levels with the other guests because…” His voice trailed off helplessly, as if suddenly afraid of offending me.
Muriel cackled. “Because you don’t want Count Dracula to sneak around taking a sip in the middle of the night? Don’t worry, we get it. What makes you think my brother won’t do the same to you? I mean, all the silver-bladed knives in the world won’t keep him from sucking your blood while you sleep.”
When Darcy blushed at the word “sucking,” I was completely charmed. Lightly smacking Muriel’s arm, I shot her a glare, shaking my head. “Drop the mama bear act, sis. Darcy’s just trying to watch out for the people he’s promised to protect. Even I know it’s nothing personal. How about you put the verbal daggers away and pretend you have enough manners to say ‘thank you’ so we can join them for dinner?”
Muriel stuck her tongue out at me before she remembered Prudence could see her. Flushing bright red, she dropped her gaze, muttering a quick “thank you” to Darcy.
Prudence tucked her arm in Darcy’s and motioned for us to follow. “The dining room is through here. You’ll need to meet the rest of our little family anyway. We’ve been here so long we’ve certainly become one.” She stopped short in the doorway, glancing back with a frown. It was a good thing I hadn’t pushed Muriel forward yet, or we might have mowed them down.
She looked right at me. “Storm, honey. At the risk of sounding tacky, I’d sure hate to eat in front of you. Is there anything at all I can give you?”
I was about to say water would be fine when Muriel piped up. “Thank you for asking, Prudence. If you’d be so kind, we have a dozen bags of blood in one of the backpacks hanging from my chair that need to be refrigerated. I’m quite certain the ice packs have melted, despite the chill of the rainstorm. For my brother’s meal, he’ll drink one of those.”
While I wanted to cringe, Prudence took my dietary needs in stride. “Easy enough to manage. Darcy, take Storm to the table, and Muriel and I can head into the kitchen and see what we can do about Storm’s unique culinary restraints.”
I started to turn her down, mostly because she appeared far too tiny to push my sister’s heavy chair with our bags, but Muriel shot me a glare daring me to refuse her a few minutes alone with her idol. With a sigh, I motioned toward our things. “Darcy, would it be possible for me to leave a couple bags here in the foyer until you’re able to show us to our rooms? They do weigh the chair down, I’m afraid.”
At his nod, I took the bags containing our clothes and my laptop and set them out of the walkway, then let Prudence take the chair. The two women chatted easily, walking ahead of us past the dining room where Darcy reluctantly led me.
About a dozen people sat around a long banquet table. Darcy removed a chair, leaving space for Muriel to wheel right up to the table, then patted the back of the one beside it with a shy smile. “Have a seat, Storm. Let me introduce you to the rest of the family.”
He took the spot to my left at the head of the table, motioning to each person. A pair of petite sisters with obvious fae lineage were Faith and Hope Breathnach. I’d only met one other fairy in the past, but the cotton-candy scent of their blood was unmistakable. Next came a large man with a long red beard in danger of touching his plate, Harry Johnson. I was so stuck on his god-awful name, imagining the field day Prudence must’ve had when they met, I didn’t catch the next several introductions.
I wasn’t worried; I’d meet and get to know them all if we stayed here long enough. By the time Darcy introduced an academic African American man with thick Coke-bottle glasses and a bowtie to match his professorial vibe, Prudence was wheeling Muriel to the table. My sister set a large, solid cup with a lid and straw in front of me, while Prudence hustled over to a sideboard and came back with a place setting for Muriel.