“That’ll be the day. She knows you as well as I do, so stop arguing and feed.”

Oskar’s pulse was clearly visible in his wrist as it pushed blood through his veins. Red and warm, sweet yet salty, it held in its flow nourishment that could not compare with what was stored in the plastic bags in Bennett’s refrigerator. No longer able to deny what was being offered, Bennett’s canines extended, and a second later, they punctured Oskar’s wrist effortlessly.

***

Bennett returned from the kitchen after refilling a glass with orange juice. “Are you doing all right?” she said, handing Oskar the drink.

“I’m fine. Just like riding a bike.”

“Thank you,” Bennett said as she sat down. “You didn’t have to.”

“Like I said, once a guardian, always a guardian,” Oskar said, examining his wrist. “And it’s already healing.”

“Good. Just don’t go dying in the next couple of days. All right?”

“I won’t,” Oskar said, putting aside the glass. “Look, I’m sorry I won’t do what you want regarding Lisa.”

Perusing the pastries on the plate, Bennett raised her eyes. “I could just compel you.”

“That’ll be the day,” Oskar said, chuckling.

Bennett smiled. “You know me too well.”

“And I know my daughter even better than that.”

“I wish that were true.”

“It is. Lisa wouldn’t have made this decision without thinking it through. She knows what it will entail, and she’s aware of what she’ll be giving up.”

“That’s not the problem,” Bennett said softly.

“Bennett, you’ve turned plenty of guardians over the centuries that have chosen the same path as Lisa, and according to what my father told me and his father told him, most went off without a hitch. What you’re doing right now is basing your assumption on your previous love affairs, and that’s not fair to my daughter. I’m not saying you’re wrong to be concerned. I wasn’t there, but regardless of what may have happened with those other women, that’s your baggage, not Lisa’s.”

“And you said Lisa got her stubbornness from her mother?”

Oskar’s hearty guffaw filled the room. “Okay, so maybe I contributed some.”

“Apparently,” Bennett said before taking a bite of her blueberry scone.

For a few minutes, they both enjoyed the pastries Oskar had purchased that morning, Bennett consuming three of the scones while Oskar attacked an apple turnover with fervor. After washing it down with what was left of his juice, Oskar looked at Bennett. “So what else is going on in your corner of the world? Are you still righting wrongs?”

“As always.”

“And what about the bane of your existence? Is fuck-wad keeping his distance?”

Bennett’s amusement showed on her face at a nickname only Oskar used. “As a matter of fact, I think Napoleon is in Boston now.”

“What makes you think that?”