One hot day between spring and summer, Serena was resting happily against Xander. Even with his body temperature rising nearly to the temperature of the room, he was still cooler than a human, making him a perfectly cozy cuddling companion. For once, Serena wasn't angsting about their sex life and was merely nestled up against him as they read a book together. She really could be peaceful and sweet, and she did long to dote on him, to spoil him with blood and sex, but for now, this would do.
Désmoda had been living a comfortable life—well, comfortable for her. She had a rather nice roof over her head and she could get to the market if she wanted to ride in the carriage. But she also had a few people she could ask to do so for her… for a sufficiently-inclusive definition of “ask”. Yes, she’d released the last poor bastard she’d indentured from her cellar, but not without taking some insurance that, should she request a favor or two, they’d not feel in a position to turn her down. And now that her cellar was housing only empty wine casks at the moment, she found herself in need of someone to share her home. She’d never admit it, of course, but she did get terribly lonely from time to time. Maybe there was a more appropriate way to meet men than entrapping, torturing, and blackmailing them… but how would she know? Her mother had wanted to raise a lady and she’d wanted to spite her mother, so away she’d run when she was 16, taking some of her dowry with her b...
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