by McGill, Brie
Ninkasi’s mother grabbed Orion’s head and pushed her nose into his ear. “You’re such an elegant man!”
Noah leaned forward and hissed at his sister. “He has six fingers!”
“I know, Noah.” She nodded. “That’s because his mm—hmm—his, ha—fath—” She cleared her throat. “One of his parents is from another planet.”
“Seriously?!” He rocked back and forth, eyes wide with excitement. “COOL!”
“The craftsmanship is remarkable.” Orion returned with Ninkasi’s mother to the room, marveling at a hand-blown glass decanter. “You made this yourself?”
She shrugged. “Before my husband completely ruined my life and I became a full-time lush, I was quite the artisan.”
“It’s marvelous.” He held the sparkling decanter up to the light and blinked.
Her mother raised the bottle, placing a trio of glasses on the table. “Let’s crack this open!”
Orion collected the bottle from her hands. “Allow me.” He retrieved a wine key from his pocket.
Gasping, her mother grabbed his arm. “You carry your own key?!”
He tilted his head. “Don’t you. . .?”
“Ninkasi!” Her mother slapped her hands against her face. “When is the wedding?!”
Ninkasi massaged her temples. “You’re cut off after this one, Mom.”
“Dude.” Noah jumped Ninkasi’s red checker and made a king. “It’s kind of weird. They’re like best friends.”
Frowning, Ninkasi glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah, tell me about it.” She moved another piece, discreetly leaving Noah an opportunity to gain an advantage.
Her mother sat on the sofa with her arm draped around Orion. Both were laughing with flushed cheeks, tinking glasses of wine together.
“Are you sure, Sis? He’s not a bad guy?” Noah stared at the board.
“I didn’t like Aleister at first.” Ninkasi rested her head on her hand. “Orion was the one who always came to check up on me.”
Noah scrunched his nose. “Are you sure you don’t like him because you went crazy?”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I watched this movie while you were gone.” Noah moved a piece, missing the opening she left for him. “Some girl was kidnapped, and became obsessed with her kidnapper because he was the only person she was ever allowed to see. And then they both started kidnapping other people, together.” He leaned forward and whispered, “And then they skinned them at ate them.”
Ninkasi swatted her brother away. “And where was Mom while you were watching this?”
He shrugged. “Passed out with Angelina during her nap.”
Closing her eyes, she bit her lip.
“I missed you.” Noah stared at her. “I’ve had nothing but burnt toast for lunch every day.”
It was nearly midnight when Orion pried himself from her mother, and sauntered toward the door. “I must take my leave.”
Ninkasi scooped her sleeping little sister out of her embrace and made sure she lay comfortably on the sofa before standing up.
“I have to ask you one thing!” Noah clapped his hands and stared at Orion.
Orion turned, raising an eyebrow.
“How do you give someone the middle finger?” He stood up, and counted on his fingers. “Do you use this one? Or this one? What do you do?”
Ninkasi seized her brother’s arm and dragged him toward the stairs. “It’s past your bedtime.” She crouched down and whispered in his ear. “Get out of here!”
“You must take me to your island!” Ninkasi’s mother stumbled toward the door.
He smiled, bowing halfway.
“Mom, Orion has to go.” She herded him toward the door.
“It was a pleasure to meet you!” Her mother extended a hand. “Thank you for not killing my daughter!” She waved.
He narrowed his eyes, glancing to Ninkasi. “It was my pleasure to meet you.”
Her mother’s eyes welled with tears, and she grabbed two fistfuls of Orion's hair, pulling him forward. “You have such shiny hair!”
Lurching forward, Orion grimaced.
“Mom, we’re going.” Smiling at her mother, she shoved him outside and slammed the door behind them. “Glad to see you hit it off with my mom!” She widened her eyes.
Orion exhaled, looking to the stars.
She took his hand. “I’m glad you didn’t hate my family.”
He pressed his lips together, and squeezed her hand, eyes focused behind her. “It will take some time to. . . accustom myself. . .”
Her expression sank. “You didn’t like them?”
“No!” Orion grabbed her shoulders. “It’s simply not something. . . I’m familiar with.” He stared at the ground. “Everyone seems. . . tightly knit, like they really care about each other. There’s a kind of respect that I. . .”
Ninkasi’s face softened, watching him struggle for words.
“There’s a kind of respect. . .” He rubbed the back of his head, looking away. “A unity that. . .”
“That?” She squeezed his hand.
He closed his eyes. “That I never knew.”
Ninkasi stood up on her toes, kissing him briefly on the lips. “You can come back any time you want.”
Orion smiled. “Of course.” Sweeping his fingers through her hair, he cradled her head and pulled her close to him, kissing her.
Wrapping her arms around him, she closed her eyes, tasting his mouth, feeling all the gravity in the universe in a single kiss.
She wanted him to stay.
Ninkasi wandered downstairs, shocked to awake to the smell of French toast, bacon and eggs. She scrambled to the kitchen; no one was in sight, but there was a glass of fresh orange juice and a plate waiting for her. Grabbing a spatula, she poked through the pans in awe: the food was still hot.
Stunned, Ninkasi fixed herself a mountain-sized breakfast feast and wandered into the living room.
Noah waved at her, scarfing his plate of food.
Her mother had woken early, styled her hair, did her makeup, and dressed in a sharp-looking blazer that Ninkasi hadn’t seen her wear for ages. She sat with Angelina on the sofa, reading from a thick book, with a clear look in her eyes.
This was more stunning than breakfast.
“This makes me sick.” Noah chewed a mouthful of eggs, gesturing at his mother.
She narrowed her eyes. “Noah, what are you talking about?”
“That book!” He spat eggs everywhere and wiped his mouth. “I think you have to be sick in the head to write a book like that.”
Ninkasi’s mother raised a disapproving eyebrow, and continued to read to Angelina.
Noah slurped his orange juice. “Mordred is about to kill King Arthur. Oh, boo hoo!”
Ninkasi crossed her arms, speaking through clenched teeth. “It would be rude to spoil the story for Angelina, don’t you think?”
“Arthur deserves it!” Noah jabbed his fork into his plate. “I hope Mordred steals Excalibur and rams it through his face!”
“Noah!” Squinting, shaking her head, Ninkasi knelt beside him. “What is your problem?”
“It’s disgusting!” He banged his fork against the plate repeatedly. “Mordred is going to kill Arthur, his father.”
Ninkasi nodded. “So. . .?”
“Mordred’s mother. . . is Arthur’s sister!” Noah threw his arms in the air, scrunching his nose. “Think about it!”
She rolled her eyes. “Noah, maybe you should stop thinking about it.”
“I can’t help it! It’s gross!” He waved his fork. “He made a baby with his sister!” Noah’s voice cracked.
“He didn’t make a baby,” Ninkasi hissed, glancing at her mother. “The stork made a mistake. Postmen do it all the time. Remember when we found the neighbor’s blender on our doorstep?”
“It's disgusting.” Noah stabbed at her with his fork. “I'm disgusted that you're not disgusted! Do you want my baby?” He grinned.
She grabbed him by the hair. "Do you want a slap across the face?"
"Don't be testy." He swatted at her hand. "I'll call the stork. He'll make the arrangements."
“It’s fiction, Noah.” She shook her head, walking away. “It isn’t real. Get a grip.” She stopped beside her mother, tinking her fork against the plate. “Breakfast is amazing.”
Her mother rubbed Angelina’s head, sticking a bookmark in the book. “Well, I feel amazing.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve had nothing but orange juice. . .?”
Her mother tilted her head contemplatively. “Talking to your man made me realize a lot of things last night.”
Ninkasi blushed. “My man?”
“You know, we both have a lot to deal with, but. . .” She gestured with her hands, looking away. “A drink tastes best when you have something to celebrate.”
“Orion made you think about that?” Ninkasi sat down beside her mother.
“And I miss making glass.” She hung her head. “I really, really miss making glass.”
Ninkasi leaned forward. “Mom, you’re so good at it. I don’t know why you’d ever want to stop. Your art is beautiful.”
“He made me think about it.” She bit her lip, nodding, looking like she wanted to cry. “I think I need to do it again. If I had my own shop, I might even—” Pressing a hand to her face, she paused, lower lip quivering. “I might even be able to make some of my own money, maybe enough to stop relying on your father.”
“Mom.” Ninkasi put a hand on her shoulder.
She slammed the book against the table. “And then I can air his dirty laundry to all the tabloids without fear of financial repercussion!” She balled a fist.
Ninkasi hugged her, rubbing her back. “Mom. . .”
“I need to take control of my life again.” She sniffled. “I’m so happy you found a wonderful man who thinks about these things. You deserve it.” She squeezed her arm. “He must be so rich!”
Ninkasi smirked. “I think it’s his friend who is rich. . .”
“Yeah, well.” Her mother delicately wiped away her tears, taking care not to smudge her makeup, and tilted her head back, smiling. “I won’t drink again. Not until your wedding, or not until I open my shop. Whichever comes first.”
Happily After Vomit
XXVIII.
Three days had passed. Staring into the mirror, Ninkasi ran her fingers over her hair, adjusting the complicated twist she arranged in the back. She pressed her lips together, inspecting her lipstick, and smoothed the evening gown around her hips.
Orion invited her to the chateau for dinner—and he would arrive any minute.
Hearing the familiar battle cry of Wittle Man, her heart skipped a beat, and she zoomed down the stairs. It had been days since she’d seen him.
It felt strange to sleep alone.
Noah thundered toward the door, Chihuahua yapping with deranged enthusiasm at his heels, and met his sister in the foyer at the same time. He extended a hand to the doorknob. “Want me to—”
“It’s okay, Noah.” She patted him on the head, gently pushing him away from the door. “I’ll get it.”
He wrinkled his nose in protest and stood firm, unwilling to leave.
Ninkasi bent her knees, nudging him away. “Noah, please.”
Sticking out his tongue, he thundered away.
Sighing, she leaned against the door and pulled it open.
Aleister stood in peacock blue robes with his arms crossed.
Her mouth fell open in disappointed surprise.
“What!” He threw his arms in the air. “You aren’t happy to see me?!”
She shook her head, lifting her arms. “No, Aleister, of course I’m happy to see you—”
“Yeah, bullshit.” He jerked his head away. “Orion was busy, so he sent me to get you instead.”
Smiling nervously, she nodded. “Thank you.”
“So, listen! You ungrateful cow!” Charging toward her, Aleister grabbed her by the waist and heaved her over his shoulder. “Urgh! I should put you out to pasture!”
“Put me down!” Ninkasi beat her fists against his back. “You stupid aurochs!”
“Don’t you dare call me names!” He smacked her ass.
She screamed. “Next time you go out in public, you should wear your mask!”
He snorted, tromping toward his vahan. “What, so people think we’re related?”
“No!” She kneed him in the chest. “So you look more attractive and won’t embarrass your friends!”
Feeling nostalgic, with time to kill before dinner, Ninkasi wandered outside, exiting through the back door of the chateau.
She had no need to dive out the window into the bed of rosebushes, no need to arm herself with a fire poker.
Her sense of inner serenity made the flowers outside that much more beautiful.
Shielding her eyes from the sun, Ninkasi scanned the treeline. She wandered freely through the grass, appreciating the visage of the distant rocky sea. Over her shoulder, she glimpsed the barred window to her previous room.
Basking in the warmth of the sun, she meditated on the beauty of the island, no longer its prisoner.
The pounding of feet interrupted her thoughts: a group of people in jogging attire approached, running laps around the chateau. A man in the distance waved to her.
Ninkasi squinted, drawing the crowd into focus; she stood on her toes and waved. “Wolfram!”
He sped toward her and then clomped to a halt, leaning forward, supporting himself with hands on his thighs. “Ninkasi, dear.”
A gaggle of big-chested girls in short shorts and day-glo sports bras jogged behind him, pigtails and ponytails wagging. Encircling Wolfram as they caught up to him, they rubbed his shoulders and wiped his forehead, giggling and stroking his hair.
Wolfram blushed, helplessly enduring the treatment.
Ninkasi smirked, resting her hands on her hips. “I see you’ve been well.”
His face turned beet red. “I—ah—well, you see—”
“Master Wolfram.” One girl petted his head.
“Oh, Master Wolfram,” another girl cooed in his ear.
Biting her lip, Ninkasi looked away, shaking her head.
He cleared his throat. “I’m embracing my human form.” He pushed himself up and lifted a finger.
“He’s a brilliant method actor.” One girl ran her hands down the sides of his face.
“Yes, brilliant.” Another rested her head on his shoulder.
“I love a clever man.” One dug her nails into his bicep.
Wolfram lifted a hand to his face. “They think I’m pretending.” He cleared his throat. “Like I said” —he laughed nervously— “embracing my human form. Sunshine, exercise. . .” He lifted his palms and shrugged. “If I’ve chosen to detach myself from the technology of immortality, I need to keep this mortal husk in optimal condition.” He gently beat a hand against his chest.
She nodded slowly. “That’s. . . good.” Eyeing the girls, she continued, “It looks like you’re getting. . . lots of cardiovascular exercise.”
“Master Wolfram is so smart.” One girl raked her fingers through his hair.
“Ah.” Wolfram gently clasped her hand. “Aleister introduced me to these ladies.”
“That was kind of him?” Ninkasi raised an eyebrow.
“All these ladies” —Wolfram gestured to his gaggle— “are fascinated with the vampire cultural phenomenon.”
“It sounds like a perfect match!” She widened her eyes. “Wolfram, I’m happy for you.”
“So much, that. . .” He narrowed his eyes, and lifted a hand to his mouth, lowering his voice to a whisper. “They beg me to drink their blood.”
Ninkasi nodded vehemently. “Nutritious!”
He paused. “They go doubly wild if I wear dark eyeliner.” Wolfram took Ninkasi’s wrist. “And glitter.”
She shrugged. “I guess it’s. . . the least you could do for them?”
�
��Only after Renwick goes to bed, of course.” He raised a finger. “Raising that boy properly. . . is the one good thing I can do for this world.”
“Where is Renwick?” Ninkasi stared at the chateau. “I couldn’t find him.”
“He gravitates toward the study.” He wiped a hand against his forehead. “Brilliant child.”
“I think I’ll see if I can find him.” She nodded to her side.
“I should get back to my run!” Wolfram jogged in place. “Ninkasi, my dear, wonderful to see you!”
“I’m glad you’re well, Wolfram.” Ninkasi waved. “Enjoy your sparkles!”
Ninkasi cracked open one of the double doors and peered into the library.
Renwick sat in the corner of the library, hunched over the keyboard at Nero’s blessed computer, fingers pounding at the keys.
“Renwick!” She smiled and waved.
A happy gasp escaped his mouth, but Renwick didn’t turn and look—he continued typing.
Nero sauntered toward the door, crossed his arms and sighed. “Kid’s been at it all day.” He shrugged. “I can’t pry him out of that chair, and he won’t respond to bribes with food.”
She lifted a hand to her chin. “Maybe you should let him go.”
He blew a tuft of hair from his face. “At the rate he’s going, he’ll have a whole book written tomorrow.”
Ninkasi rested one arm against the door. “Maybe he needs to write a book.”
Nero shook his head. “If he endured a quarter of what Aleister mentioned to me, it will be one fucked up book.”
The boy typed furiously, eyes transfixed with the screen.
Dancing, Deimos air-guitared before the fireplace.
His identical brother sat in an enormous armchair, throwing pieces of popcorn at his head.
“How are you, anyway?” Nero leaned against the door frame. “Are you okay?”
She tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Renwick wasn’t the only one who had a hard time.” He widened his eyes. “You made it out of there in one piece?”
Ninkasi nodded.
Nero bit his lip, and glanced over his shoulder. “I should never have split up from the group. Things would have gone differently.”