Arvandus ran a hand over Albrecht’s cloaked back as the sentinels in his family trooped into the living room. The Darays who weren’t sentinels, including the man whose name they’d adopted, were already seated. Since All Hallow’s Eve was Arvandus’s favorite time of the year, he doubted anyone was as excited as he was about their party the following week.
It didn’t matter if Brynnius burned the food somehow, Chander managed to lose his power, or no one bothered with a costume; they were going to enjoy themselves. Each event, whether it be their monthly gathering or holiday-inspired, was always fantastic because the D’Vaire clan was incredible, and Arvandus treasured his inclusion in it.
“We need to get started,” Alaric intoned. “We’re going to the East Coast, and it’s three hours later there. We do not wish to have nothing but shitty pumpkins to choose from.”
“There aren’t going to be any shitty pumpkins,” Arvandus argued as Albrecht leaned against him.
“Statistically, it is impossible for every pumpkin to be of the same quality,” Ducarius stated while Arvandus fought to keep his grin from forming. From the moment he met Albrecht, he’d grown to care for the men that surrounded him. Once a sentinel himself, Arvandus was enough fallen knight to admire and be astounded by the strict adherence to absolute fact that ruled the Sentinel Brotherhood. Although both fallen knights and sentinels were incorruptible, there was no race with as high of an honor code as the one Arvandus’s mate belonged to.
“How do we determine what is a good pumpkin?” Eduard asked.
“Just find the one that speaks to you and that you feel drawn toward,” Arvandus advised.
Frowns appeared across the room, and Arvandus bit his lip.
“That advice is nonsensical,” Ducarius remarked.
“I plan on finding the largest one I can,” Cassius commented.
“I would like to find one that perhaps others have cast aside,” Brynnius told them in his gentle voice. “Ugly ducklings need homes too.”
“I like the little baby ones. They’re so cute!” Victor enthused.
“You cannot carve tiny pumpkins,” Ducarius reminded him.
“There’s no law that says you can only get one,” came the cat’s retort.
“Just remember, we don’t want the whole hollow filled with pumpkins,” Grymington interjected.
“It is a large condo though, so I don’t think we need to impose pumpkin limits,” Chander responded.
“Are there any more pumpkin-related questions?” Alaric asked.
“Since Arvandus was unhelpful, no,” Ducarius answered.
“Arvandus is not a pumpkin expert,” Albrecht argued in the dark, smoky voice that Arvandus had been dazzled by since the moment he first heard his mate speak. “I prefer fat ones while he likes the skinny, tall ones. You are free to pick what you want.”
“I will need help gathering food items for the party while we are there,” Brynnius reminded them. “Arvandus told me they have a farmer’s market, and I’d prefer to get fresh stuff if I can. I have a list.”
“Which brings us to one of the topics I wanted to discuss today,” Alaric remarked. “Is the menu set?”
“Yes, it’s going to be very nice. In addition to my graveyard cake, we’re going to do cheese balls in the shape of pumpkins with a variety of crackers. We’ll have spiders made of pizza dough with sauce in their bellies for dunking sticks. Squash will be carved into cauldrons and filled with dip for vegetables. For the entrée, we’re going to do pasta with meatballs that look like eyes. For more sweets, we’re going to do glazed sugar cookies and cupcakes. I want to do mummy apple pies too,” Brynnius supplied.
“That sounds incredible,” Chander responded.
“Pizzasticks. Really?” Baxter asked.
“Honestly, how could it be a Daray party without the Arch Lich’s favorite food?” Arvandus asserted.
“I want to go shopping tomorrow. Who would like to come with Victor and me?” Brynnius asked.
“Apple and I can go,” Arvandus volunteered while his mate nodded his agreement.
“I’ll go too. I can carry stuff,” Cassius offered.
“I think that’s enough people,” Victor remarked. “I don’t want to spend my afternoon corralling sentinels.”
“You make us sound like children,” Baxter complained.
