Page 65 of Slayer Mom
“They should have had Duke do this. You don’t seem to like it.”
“I don’t. I will pay for every scream with my own pain.” She actually trembled at the thought.
“The Grand Master will torture you for torturing me? Then why do it?”
“He ordered me to.”
“Then he won’t hurt you. That’s logical.”
“You aren’t in the world of logic and illogic, but of instinct and dark forces battling for power and control.”
I shook my head. “Hazen isn’t like that.”
“The man you married is not the human you knew.”
I swallowed. Wasn’t he even a little bit? Was the man I’d loved just gone, a lie like mist that couldn’t hold up against the heat of the day? I was suddenly depressed, and not just because the zombie queen was coming, I smelled like nutmeg because I hadn’t had my salt soak, and my children, well Lock anyway, would prefer me undead, so he didn’t want to eat me. All of those seemed like problems I could overcome, but if the Hazen I loved didn’t even exist, what was the chance that I wouldn’t get old and lonely? I suppose I could move in with Gloria and get a dog, or four, but I’d really liked being married, and I loved Hazen. Would I eventually want to date someone else? I’d never met a man I was interested in, except Hazen. And now he didn’t exist. I suppose I would have to do the dogs and Gloria thing. She could have racy exploits while I knitted outfits for my grandchildren. Only, did vampires who were born have kids? What kind of girls would want to marry monsters? Was it possible that it wasn’t the human I was in love with, but the monster?
“Brika, what does turning into a vampire entail? How much of the original personality remains afterwards?”
“Much at first, then gradually it fades into whatever role they choose.”
“Or the role the Grand Master gives you.”
“No. He only chooses those who are worthy, which means those who have become more competent with their skills, those who have improved, those who wish to serve the Grand Master. Otherwise, he will not interfere, as long as you follow his mandates.”
“Benevolent apathy. So, you want to serve him. Why? Is it his pretty face?”
She shivered. “Don’t mention his face.”
“Why not? It’s pretty hard not to when it’s so pretty.”
“He’s sensitive about it. Some have underestimated him because of it. Some have even mocked him.”
“Poor Grand Master, being mocked because he’s so pretty. Poor, poor Grand Master, so beautiful that no one can think around him.”
“It is difficult to focus, but not because of his looks, not when what he can do to you is so much worse than anything anyone else could ever do. Put this on.” She handed me a corset and a pair of shorts. Both were made out of an extremely sturdy fabric that couldn’t be very comfortable.
I glanced around the enclosed dugout and then dressed. After that, she handed me another layer, which was even sturdier material, and covered all of me from chin to ankle. After that, boots with metal on the side, then legit armor pieces like shin plates and chest plates. It was all black, and would go great with my purple mom-bob. Eyeroll. Still, it beat red pleather.
“Will you stand beside the Grand Master against the Zombie Queen?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“And afterwards?”
“If we survive, we’ll try to resolve our marriage.”
“Not dissolve?” She looked at me with so much intensity.
“And you said that you weren’t interested in his pretty face.”
“I am very hopeful that you do not abandon the Grand Master.” Her face twitched.
I raised an eyebrow. “Otherwise, he’ll run around killing everyone, because monsters do that when they get dumped?”
“Or reject his position and find a cave to slowly rot away in.”
“Oh, please.”
