Page 121 of King of Hollywood
They needed to be bullies. (Me)
The “offense” that they were “punished” for needed to have occurred within the last fifty years. (Felix)
Killing everyone Felix had ever slept with was not an option.
“Food” was the exception.
The last rule I didn’t like, as it meant I couldn’t hunt down anyone from his past, but Felix insisted it was necessary. Especially, when we were talking about forever. A very real forever. A forever that wasn’t metaphorical but infinite. Infinite happily ever afters, infinite kills, infinite kisses. I supposed, in light of that kind of future—I could handle a little compromise.
When I inquired about the actual turning process itself, Felix was very upfront with information. His turning had been traumatic. He hadn’t known what he was getting into. He’d been blind-sided. Abused. Mine would be far different. It involved paperwork, getting approval from SAC, and I had two options. I could choose to have a public turning, enacted by the local Council. Or…when the paperwork was filed—and we received approval—I could be turned by Felix himself.
There was a long waitlist—because apparently even supernatural governments were annoying that way.
But…Felix said he knew “a guy”.
A guy who could get us on the list—
The list that would mean eventually—when I was gray enough—I could become just as fang-y as Felix was. Until then, I spent what free time I wasn’t with Felix soaking up as much sunshine as I could.
We’d been approved for over a year now.
We were waiting for the right time.
Moving had gotten in the way, as had Winnie’s wedding—you can bet your ass I teased the hell out of her when I found out she was dating someone. A lovely woman who was half her size, and twice as smart as she was.
Our apartment in the city was located inside a building that housed strictly supernatural beings. Not that the general population knew that, because they didn’t. Felix—after much cajoling on my end—had finally worked past his personal hang ups about being seen out in public. He was still a bit skittish, but three years of praise, of reassurances—and finally, wonderfully, he was comfortable going out without his damn hat on.
I knew this would be good for him. That the city would be good for him. There was a certain anonymity here that would positively affect our “date nights” and the murder we enjoyed immensely on them. But it would also allow him the shield he so desperately craved. He was coming back to society after so long away, that many things often startled him.
Felix had been isolated for far too long.
I knew this.
And even though the idea of him talking to anyone but me rankled, I…was willing to—grudgingly—put his needs ahead of my own wishes. Which meant, I did my damndest after we moved into our new penthouse apartment, to try to matchmake him with the other supernaturals that lived inside the building.
All of the people I approved ended up not clicking.
Felix ultimately did not need my help—because he was precious and perfect and sunshine incarnate, obviously. Anyone would be lucky to be his friend.
A month into living in the city, Felix finally made a friend.
Nancy was a female vampire who lived on the floor below ours. She had a cat—that got along swimmingly with all five of ours. Don’t judge me. Five cats is a perfectly respectable number. We’d started off with the three—and then…Allen had found one rooting around in the trash outside the crematory.
