Twelve
The thing I hated most about the people at mother's soirées was the people themselves. There were just so many of them, all dressed up in their finest formal wear and looking like they'd stepped out of Pride and Prejudice. No, that was unfair. Vampire fashion had moved on from then, but only by about a hundred and twenty years or so. If a Victorian human walked in the room, they'd only be minorly scandalised.
"Are you okay?" William asked, echoing his earlier sentiments.
"Never been better," I muttered. He knew how I felt about my mother. And more to the point, he knew how my mother felt about me. Probably even better than I did. Whether I liked it or not, I was still a little in denial about that.
"We don't have to stay long." He rested his hand on the small of my back, a prope
