Page 24 of A Bloody Merry Christmas
He raised his eyebrows. “Pickton is real, Lecter isn’t.”
“My point still stands,” I said with a shrug as I grabbed a piece of cheese and popped it into my mouth. A burst of flavors erupted on my tongue, and I moaned a lot louder than I’d intended.
Samael watched me, mouth quirking up to the side as he took a piece and slid it between his lips. He nodded as he chewed, as though agreeing with me, and signed to Dalton. I didn’t know what they were saying, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from how fluid his large hands moved. Dalton passed me the container of cheese so he could respond, and I stared, enraptured by the language. I hated that I didn’t know what they were saying. How hard would it be to learn?
I’d never been bad at school. I’d gotten A’s and B’s in my classes, and and I had plans to study business in college before my entire life imploded.
When they were done, Dalton squinted at me as he smiled again, this time more widely. He was so happy, and I found it strange to be around someone who seemed to enjoy life. “I was telling him how I made the cheese.”
I didn’t believe him, but I grabbed another piece and threw it into my mouth to stop myself from saying anything. The only reason he’d respond in sign language was because they were talking about me. Samael had perfect hearing.
“Listen, I have a few things to do before Lucy and Bee get here, and Daisy needs milking. Think you could do it for me?” Dalton asked as he took the clear container from me and put it back in the fridge.
Samael signed with two fingers before he wrapped the digits around my wrist and gently tugged me toward the back door. I had no choice but to follow him, but I didn’t mind. I’d probably follow him wherever he wanted to take me.
He grabbed a silver bucket from beside the door, before leading me out onto a small deck and down two stairs, which had us heading toward a big barn not far from the house. It looked exactly like those barns in the movies, painted a bright red with white trim, tall with the odd shaped pointed roof and white fences that outlined pastures around it. The lawn had a layer of snow, the midmorning sun making it glitter, and my boots squished on the white powder beneath them.
“You’re not leading me out here to kill me, are you?” I asked, half joking, but also half serious because I really didn’t know Samael that well. He could’ve killed me at any point that I was in his house and no one would be the wiser, and he hadn’t, which made me think he didn’t have plans for it.
He glanced at me and cocked his head, giving me a look I interpreted asare you serious?
I shrugged. “Just thought I’d ask.”
He snorted and led me to the front doors of the barn, unlocking one before yanking it open and waving at me to go inside. I raised my chin and stepped through, the cold turning into warmth, which grew even warmer when Samael closed the door behind us. Different animal sounds echoed through the barn, from gentle neighs to a stronger mooing.
Samael touched my lower back, and I startled but smiled at him when he guided me farther inside and past a few stalls with a couple of horses. He shepherded me toward the back, which had a stall that was bigger than the others. Inside was a cow, brown and tall. I’d never been so close to one before and I hadn’t realized howbigthey were.
I swallowed as the cow turned its head, blinking at me.
“Daisy,” Samael said in his raspy voice.
I snorted. “That’s cliché, isn’t it?”
He grinned, and pride swirled in my gut. I stood taller. He frowned for a moment, and I realized he wanted to explain to me how to do it, but I guess it required a lot of words.
I waved my hand at him. “You do you. I’ll just watch and appreciate the hard work.”And the even harder body doing it.
He ran a hand through his dark curls and smiled wider before opening the stall and closing the gate behind himself. It was interesting to watch him work.
To begin, he warmed his hands, then milked the cow’s teats with the bucket beneath. Every so often he would glance my way, as though checking if I was still there, and then he went back to work. When he had the bucket half full—it looked like he’d gotten a couple of gallons—he rose and walked the bucket over to a silver machine in the far corner of the barn. I followed him and watched him pour the milk into it.
“That’s the milk vat,” Dalton said from behind me.
I turned to find him walking into the barn with a wide grin as he waved at the silver machine.
“It refrigerates the milk until a truck comes to get it. There’s a local company that collects it and they do all the nitty gritty stuff like pasteurizing it. I know the owner, Angelique, and she drops us off some bottles after they’re done. Daisy’s only one of our cows. We’ve got others in another barn, but Daisy is my favorite girl, so she gets to be closer to us.”
His words echoed in my head. Wow, I knew nothing about milk. If anyone had asked me a few moments ago, I’d have thought you could drink milk straight from a cow.
As if he could hear what I was thinking, Dalton laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Raw milk’s full of bacteria. It’ll kill you quicker than Sam ever would.” He poked his tongue out at Samael, who sent him a dark look over his shoulder. “Some people do drink it straight from a cow, but I don’t run that risk. Now if you’re into diarrhea, stomach cramps, vomiting, and possible death, have at it.”
“I think I’ll skip that lesson for today,” I said without hesitation.
Dalton laughed and slapped my shoulder. “I like you, kid. You’re hilarious. Funnier than that guy.” He pointed at Samael and winked at me.
Samael flipped him the finger after he placed the now empty bucket on the ground near the refrigerator, and Dalton’s laughter doubled.
Outside, the sounds of wheels crunching over snow reached my ears and I stiffened, but Dalton and Samael didn’t seem surprised. Dalton exited the barn immediately, and Samael gestured for me to follow him. We left the barn and headed toward a silver Nissan.
