Delia dragged herself into the house her grandmother owned, Michael sweeping in behind her, lugging their luggage in his large hands. After setting them down inside the foyer, they watched as Sasha moved into the house, obviously tired and quiet enough about the mysterious prognosis from the doctor.
“You two can have the bedroom next to your grandmother’s, Dee,” her mother told her. “I’m going to head to bed. Hope you don’t mind that I can’t show you around tonight, Michael. I’m absolutely drained.”
He only nodded, still looking around and taking in every inch of the space around him. Like any born vampire, it was habit to scrutinize the area he was in, and he took a moment to look back at the door as if testing the stability of the wood with his gaze.
Moving into the small bedroom next
