Chapter 8 If She Falls
Zane
A month after Seri’s first virtual monster hunt, she was ready for field work.
In other words, Cas finally caved. Well, not caved exactly. More like strategically retreated into a fortress of rules and conditions.
And I was living for it.
There he stood, radiating self-importance, his blond hair wound up in what I’d secretly dubbed his “Don’t Test Me Topknot.
” In his hands was the freshly bound tome, a literal rulebook, because apparently verbal instructions weren’t enough for our little lunar witch.
I got comfy in my gaming chair, propping my feet up on the closest table, and prepared for the evening’s entertainment.
“Operational Guidelines for the Protection and Conduct of One (1) Serafina ‘Seri’ Cimmerian, Lunar Witch, During Field Assignments,” Cas read, each syllable crisp as fresh snow under boots.
I snorted. “That title’s almost as long as your—”
“Don’t,” Koa warned from where he sat at his work bench. Broody bastard.
“—patience,” I finished with a smirk. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Koala Bear.”
Cas ignored us both, flipping open the rulebook’s cover with the reverence of a priest handling sacred texts. The pages inside were filled with his elegant handwriting because of course he wouldn’t just type this up like a normal person.
And he’d made two copies, one for us and one for Seri.
“This is deadly serious, Ko! Life and death, really. Especially Rule Forty, about snack protocols.”
“There is no Rule Forty yet,” Cas muttered, flipping through his pages.
“There should be,” I insisted. “Seri gets hangry. It’s adorable, but terrifying.”
Ko made a noise that might have been agreement or might have been a warning to shut up. Hard to tell with him sometimes.
“Where is Seri?” I asked, tilting my head to listen for her heartbeat. One of the perks of being part vampire. Super hearing came in handy for tracking errant wives.
“Coming down the hall,” Ko muttered. “Footsteps stopped at the library two minutes ago.”
“I want to review these guidelines before tomorrow’s excursion.” If Casimir was capable of producing something as human as a whine, it would have been that moment.
“Excursion?” I echoed. “Makes it sound like we’re taking a field trip to the museum instead of going hunting.”
There had been a few times we’d cut the feed to her ‘command center’ here in the security room.
There were some parts of hunting that we still wanted to shield her from.
She didn’t need to see me committing war crimes or Cas becoming a nightmare in human skin or Koa crushing throats with one hand and a feral smile.
Footsteps pattered down the hall, light and quick, accompanied by the soft clicking of Brumous’ claws on hardwood. The ajar door swung all the way open, and Seri breezed in like the ray of sunshine she was. Curls piled on top of her head in a messy bun, gray eyes bright with excitement.
She was also lugging that three-drawer wooden box that lived on her library desk. As Koa leapt forward to take it, her eyes widened on Cas’ rulebook, but not with the dread any reasonable person would feel. No, she looked like someone had just handed her a winning lottery ticket.
“You made it!” she exclaimed, hurrying over to the desk as Koa sat her box down. “Good! I brought supplies!”
With a flourish, she pulled open a drawer to reveal an arsenal of stickers, glitter pens, and brightly colored sticky tabs.
“For the rulebook!” she explained, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Koa moved to loom next to her like an avenging mountain of prey, producing a small paper bag from his jacket pocket.
“Here, baby. I got you these,” he murmured, his voice soft in that way it only got around Seri.
Seri peeked inside and let out a delighted gasp.
“New washi tapes!” She threw her arms around his waist. “You’re the best, Koko! Thank you!”
Fang-rotted fucker blushed, and I couldn’t help the snicker that escaped me. The mighty Koa Cimmerian, terror of the supernatural underworld, buying moon-damned washi tape. Lucian would have an aneurysm.
Mom, though, would have smiled just like Seri is, a tiny voice whispered, and I shoved it away.
“If you’re ready, Seri, I’ll begin the official review of the guidelines.” Cas was either oblivious to or deliberately ignoring the crafting apocalypse about to befall his precious document.
Seri wiggled with excitement, uncapping a purple glitter pen.
She perched on the edge of her chair, feet swinging, as Casimir handed her a copy, and the sight hit me somewhere unexpected.
She looked so young, so happy. It was easy to forget sometimes that she was just nineteen.
That she’d had so much stolen by that witch.
That despite everything, she still found joy in stupid things like decorating a rulebook.
Night’s teeth! Look at me getting all thoughtful and shit!
“I’ll use stars to mark the important things.”
“Rainbow or sparkle?” Koa held up two different sheets of stickers.
“Sparkle.”
She smiled up at him, and something flashed across his face, a look reserved exclusively for her. As she took the sheet of stickers, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head, his big hand gentle as it smoothed over her hair.
“If we could return to the matter at hand,” Cas interjected, although I caught the slight twitch of his lips. Secretly, Mr. Zero Chill loved how Seri softened all our edges.
“Oh, absolutely,” she agreed with a wide-eyed nod that made my heart squeeze painfully. Cruor! Can men have hormone fluctuations? Because something awful is happening to me. “I’m ready, Simmy! I’ll even take notes!”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ve already written everything down.”
I transmitted a thought directly to Koa’s mind: Twenty bucks says he gives up before the last rule.
A tiny nod was his only response. Easiest bet I’d ever win.
“Rule Number One.” Cas straightened his shoulders, assuming what I mentally labeled his “Commander Stick-Up-His-Ass” posture. “Seri stays behind at least one Cimmerian brother at all times.”
She nodded solemnly and reached for a sticker.
“These are not suggestions.” Cas seemed puzzled by the bedazzling happening to his magnum opus. “They are non-negotiable safety protocols.”
“Absolutely.” Seri placed the star next to rule number one, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.
“Rule Number Two,” Cas forged ahead, his brow furrowing. “At the first sign of danger, Seri will immediately retreat to the designated safe zone, which will be established upon arrival at each location.”
Seri nodded again, selecting a glittery pink star this time.
“Pink means I extra-promise to follow it.”
“Rule Number Three.” Cas’ eye twitched. “Seri will remain in verbal or visual contact with at least one Cimmerian brother at all times. If she cannot speak freely, she will use the emergency hand signals we practiced.”
“Bathroom breaks?” she asked, holding up her sparkly pen.
“Exception noted,” he conceded.
As he wrote the annotation in his copy, Seri added a small flourish to the page margin of her copy. From my angle, it looked like a doodle of Cas with a superhero cape. Koa’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Rule Number Twelve,” I interjected, leaning forward in my chair.
“We are proceeding in numerical order.” Cas shot me a glare that would have withered a lesser man, but I nutted up and continued.
“No letting Seri have any fun whatsoever.” I pitched my voice to mimic Cas’ serious tone. “Rule Number Who Cares. If Seri smiles, immediate evacuation procedures must be implemented.”
“I’m trying to keep her safe!” Cas said through gritted teeth.
“You know,” I drawled, stretching my arms above my head, “these are sounding less like field operation guidelines and more like ‘How To Babysit Your Witch Wife.’ ”
“Zane,” he warned, but I rolled my eyes.
His guidelines could suck balls. Our girl was a supernova in a world of nightlights, and no rules in the moon-damned multiverse could change that.
“Rule Number Four. Under no circumstances does Seri engage in combat.”
“But…” She paused, her pen hovering over the page. “What if one of you is in danger?”
“Especially then,” Ko interjected, his voice like gravel. “We can handle ourselves, beloved.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Cas said. “If you try to help and it fails, we’ll be distracted trying to protect you.”
I winced at his bluntness, but he wasn’t wrong. I caught Seri’s tense shoulders, the slight droop to her smile, and decided to do what I do best.
“Rule Number Five,” I announced, leaning forward. “No making friends with the monsters, Seri. I know how you are.”
“Zoodle!” Her eyes narrowed playfully. “I don’t make friends with monsters. Well, only you three.”
“And Brumous,” I pointed out. “He sleeps with you when we’re not home.”
“He has nightmares,” she protested.
“He’s a dire wolf.”
“A baby dire wolf. With trauma.”
“He’s nine months old,” Ko muttered dryly.
“Still a baby,” she said with a shrug.
Cas cleared his throat, clearly trying to regain control of his meeting, but there was tenderness in his eyes as he watched Seri decorate the page.
“The real Rule Number Five. Seri will maintain a minimum distance of fifty feet from any unknown magical artifact or entity.”
“Fifty feet?” she pouted. “That’s half a football field. I won’t be able to see anything.”
“That’s the point. Observation from a safe distance.”
“How am I supposed to help identify anything if I can’t get close enough to see it?”
“That’s where I come in, pixie.” I tapped my temple, trying to salvage this. “Telepath, remember? I’ll show you what we see.”
“Oh!” She brightened. “That’s a good system, actually. It’ll be just like the holo table with the spy eyes!”
Cas gave me a crisp nod, which I acknowledged with a lazy salute.
“Rule Number Six. Seri will immediately alert us to any magical disturbances she senses, no matter how minor.”