I'm clever enough to keep myself informed."
"That's great, Dad. Well done." Rolling my eyes, I slapped his shoulder. "Now, can we get on with it? The love of my life is waiting for me."
"They can't stay here, Cassie. Having a vampire around wouldn't be good publicity." Taking a sip of his coffee, Dad turned back to the folders occupying most of his massive desk, signalling me our conversation was over. Maybe for him, but not for me.
I smirked because it was time to skip the arguing and possible yelling, and move on to plan B, which involved begging, and maybe even shedding a few tears if I could squeeze them out. Truth was, I knew he was aware I manipulated him, but I didn't care. He should've thought about possible consequences before teaching me how to wrap Mum around my finger.
"Daddy?" I batted my lashes. "You know I'm really enjoying the last few moments we're getting to spend together. Soon I'll turn eighteen when it's time to leave the nest and fly away into the night."
"Stop being melodramatic, Cassie. It's not working. Not in this particular case." He sounded serious, but a glint of amusement flickered in his gaze.
I brushed a stray lock from my eyes as I continued unfazed, "You see, I might leave the nest sooner because Dallas needs to take care of his sister. Since he's the love of my life, I'm not letting him go. Will you miss me?" I pouted, praying for those tears to start flowing. They didn't.
"The love of your life?" Dad snorted. "You've known him for, what, two weeks?"
Not even, but Dad didn't need to know. "Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight?"
"Of course I have." Dad snapped his fingers. Thunder boomed and a brilliant bolt flashed over my head. "You have a better chance of getting struck by lightning."
I smiled. "Well then, call me one of the lucky ones."
"Who says you're lucky? Been there. Trust me, it's not all chocolate cake. " He snapped his fingers again and a dark rain cloud hovered above my head.
"Don't you dare," I hissed. Water didn't usually do my frizzy hair any favours. I couldn't risk looking like a drowned rat with my beloved around.
The cloud disappeared. Sighing, Dad started rolling his pen around his fingers. He was slowly losing his patience. It made sense to exalt my game. I pinched my thigh until it hurt, but the tears still wouldn't make their grand entrance.
"I'll give it two months," Dad muttered.
Ignoring his annoying wise apple attitude, I reached out and covered his hand with my palm. "I don’t want to leave just yet and lose the last precious months we have left, but I must."
"Cass, I said stop the drama. You're turning eighteen, not entering a convent."
The first wet sensation reached the corner of my eye, but it was nowhere near enough to spill a fat, visible tear down my cheek.
"Turning eighteen is a passage that changes everything. I've heard it can turn the most loving adolescent into a party animal, who's always too busy with drinking and hooking up to call home. Is that going to be my future? I'm scared."
Dad smiled. "I'll always know where you are."
I set my jaw. "No, you won't. If you plan to plant your GPS aka Thrain into my phone, I'll get rid of him and you won't see me for the next fifty years."
Dad grunted. "There's something I need to tell you, sweetie."
His tone promised bad news. I raised my brows. "What?" The clock on the wall stroke a full hour. Seconds passed and yet he didn't respond. "Say it, Dad," I prompted.
He hesitated, avoiding my gaze. "Your aunt Patricia's the same age as you."
"So?"
"She's bound to her home."
I shrugged. "And? Get on with it."
Taking a deep breath, he turned to face me. "The same fate awaits you once you turn eighteen."
My jaw dropped. "What?" He couldn't be serious. "You mean I'll be bound to a haunted bakery for the rest of my life?"
Dad shook his head. "Not to the bakery. To Hell."
I laughed, figuring he must be winding me up. "Patricia's not eighteen yet."
"She inherited the bakery
"That's great, Dad. Well done." Rolling my eyes, I slapped his shoulder. "Now, can we get on with it? The love of my life is waiting for me."
"They can't stay here, Cassie. Having a vampire around wouldn't be good publicity." Taking a sip of his coffee, Dad turned back to the folders occupying most of his massive desk, signalling me our conversation was over. Maybe for him, but not for me.
I smirked because it was time to skip the arguing and possible yelling, and move on to plan B, which involved begging, and maybe even shedding a few tears if I could squeeze them out. Truth was, I knew he was aware I manipulated him, but I didn't care. He should've thought about possible consequences before teaching me how to wrap Mum around my finger.
"Daddy?" I batted my lashes. "You know I'm really enjoying the last few moments we're getting to spend together. Soon I'll turn eighteen when it's time to leave the nest and fly away into the night."
"Stop being melodramatic, Cassie. It's not working. Not in this particular case." He sounded serious, but a glint of amusement flickered in his gaze.
I brushed a stray lock from my eyes as I continued unfazed, "You see, I might leave the nest sooner because Dallas needs to take care of his sister. Since he's the love of my life, I'm not letting him go. Will you miss me?" I pouted, praying for those tears to start flowing. They didn't.
"The love of your life?" Dad snorted. "You've known him for, what, two weeks?"
Not even, but Dad didn't need to know. "Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight?"
"Of course I have." Dad snapped his fingers. Thunder boomed and a brilliant bolt flashed over my head. "You have a better chance of getting struck by lightning."
I smiled. "Well then, call me one of the lucky ones."
"Who says you're lucky? Been there. Trust me, it's not all chocolate cake. " He snapped his fingers again and a dark rain cloud hovered above my head.
"Don't you dare," I hissed. Water didn't usually do my frizzy hair any favours. I couldn't risk looking like a drowned rat with my beloved around.
The cloud disappeared. Sighing, Dad started rolling his pen around his fingers. He was slowly losing his patience. It made sense to exalt my game. I pinched my thigh until it hurt, but the tears still wouldn't make their grand entrance.
"I'll give it two months," Dad muttered.
Ignoring his annoying wise apple attitude, I reached out and covered his hand with my palm. "I don’t want to leave just yet and lose the last precious months we have left, but I must."
"Cass, I said stop the drama. You're turning eighteen, not entering a convent."
The first wet sensation reached the corner of my eye, but it was nowhere near enough to spill a fat, visible tear down my cheek.
"Turning eighteen is a passage that changes everything. I've heard it can turn the most loving adolescent into a party animal, who's always too busy with drinking and hooking up to call home. Is that going to be my future? I'm scared."
Dad smiled. "I'll always know where you are."
I set my jaw. "No, you won't. If you plan to plant your GPS aka Thrain into my phone, I'll get rid of him and you won't see me for the next fifty years."
Dad grunted. "There's something I need to tell you, sweetie."
His tone promised bad news. I raised my brows. "What?" The clock on the wall stroke a full hour. Seconds passed and yet he didn't respond. "Say it, Dad," I prompted.
He hesitated, avoiding my gaze. "Your aunt Patricia's the same age as you."
"So?"
"She's bound to her home."
I shrugged. "And? Get on with it."
Taking a deep breath, he turned to face me. "The same fate awaits you once you turn eighteen."
My jaw dropped. "What?" He couldn't be serious. "You mean I'll be bound to a haunted bakery for the rest of my life?"
Dad shook his head. "Not to the bakery. To Hell."
I laughed, figuring he must be winding me up. "Patricia's not eighteen yet."
"She inherited the bakery
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