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Re-Organizing - 12. Chapter 12

Sorry for the extreme delay. Between life and a bit of writer's block, I was stuck with half a chapter that didn't want finished. I DO appreciate all the kind messages asking if I was okay.
I hope chapter 13 won't be as hard to write.

All three of us had been engaging in various forms of oral sex for several months now, but we had avoided the most intimate sexual act until tonight. Part of the delay was due to our busy lives, and part of it stemmed from my human sense of propriety, wanting to wait until after a marriage ceremony. While we were eager to get to the actual act, we also wanted this to be as special as we could make it, so we started slow, with a long, sensual shower. Billy was adamant that Scott and I complete our mating bond before including him, as we were fated mates. With Billy helping, Scott and I washed each other, then together we washed him. Our sensual shower slowly became a sexual shower, with each of us experiencing an orgasm at the hands, or mouths, of another of our mates.

Once we dried off and got in bed, I realized that Billy and Scott had discussed this event several times without me, as Billy quickly assumed the role of helper, using his fingers to relax and lubricate Scott. I held eye contact with Scott as I entered him for the first time. I quickly understood what people meant when they talked about feeling connected to their partner. My orgasm in the shower helped me somewhat, but as I made love to my mate, my beast was pushing me on toward completing our bond. As my body reacted to the physical, my soul reacted to my mate. Without conscious thought, I dropped my fangs and, as my body trembled with the impending release, I sank my fangs into Scott’s neck and fed. Through his blood I felt what Scott was feeling, the same perfect connection. My body shuddered as I filled my mate with one life-giving fluid while I fed on another. As I lay on top of Scott I continued to gently feed as our souls became one; both of us spent.

During our lovemaking, Billy was more than an observer, sharing gentle caresses and kisses throughout our coupling. He held us both as we recovered, then began the process of preparing me. Some may imagine that, as the dominate partner, our lovemaking would be one sided; nothing could be further from the truth. Shortly after we met, we had discussed this, and Scott and I both agreed that we would give ourselves entirely to the other. When Billy guided Scott inside me I understood what it meant to be possessed by another. When Scott sank his fangs into my throat, my beast actually purred as our mate both gave and took fluids from our body. Afterward, as I lay there with Scott and Billy nuzzling my neck, I realized that I was still incomplete. Scott felt it too, and we both turned our attention to Billy.

In our previous lovemaking sessions, we had made several joking comments about Billy’s size being an obstacle to his engaging in this most intimate of acts. When the time came for him to actually do it, it was no issue at all. Billy made love to me first and demonstrated his feelings by being a very gentle lover. Gentle, that is, until his beast decided that I was ready. As Billy shifted to his vampire form his motions became rougher, more demanding, and as his climax neared, he sank his fangs into my throat. For the second time that night, I felt my soul connecting to my mate, my second mate.

I won’t bore you with more details, but by the time the sun rose, Scott, Billy, and I were exhausted. We had shared our bodies in every way imaginable, and the three of us had completed our vampire mating bond. I could sense their emotions with no effort, I knew what they were thinking without asking, and we were communicating mind-to-mind without conscious thought. In some ways, it was overwhelming, and I hoped it would slightly diminish over time.

We were intertwined and dozing when Jenny quietly brought our toddler in to be fed. From that first time she found the three of us in bed, she had never shied away from entering our bedroom whenever she needed. This morning, she gave a knowing smile as she handed Charlie to me.

“It’s about time,” she whispered.

I grinned and asked, “Are the other boys up?”

“They are currently playing cross the streams, Greg. They’ll be here in—”

She was interrupted by the entrance of Chipper, who ran to the bed and deftly inserted himself between Scott and me. Matthew and Michael, being a bit more insecure in their new home, quietly stood at the door until Billy lifted his face from the pillow and called them over. As Billy was lifting Michael onto our bed, I opened my wrist to feed Charlie as Scott did the same for Chipper. As I watched Charlie latch on, I saw his expression change. His eyes locked onto mine and through our feeding connection I could sense his understanding that his fathers were now one soul. Chipper had a more vocal reaction.

He disconnected from Scott’s wrist and asked, “Daddy, your blood tastes like Dad and Papa now. Why’s that?”

“Well, it’s probably because we completed our mate bond last night,” I answered casually.

“Does that mean that you, um, did you,” Chipper paused, trying to sort out his thoughts. Then he asked, “Member when I ‘barrassed Trevor ‘cause I said things about what they did?” I nodded. “Well, how can I ask you about something I don’t understand if it’s ‘bout something you did and I’m not supposed to ‘barrass you by saying it’s you?”

“If you’re asking me, you’re not sharing my private information with someone else, right?” I asked. Chipper nodded so I went on. “That is why you asking Trevor was a problem, buddy. Not that you were wrong in asking, but that you asked about something private in front of others. Do you understand?”

He thought for a moment, then slowly nodded, and asked, “So it’s okay if I ask if you and Daddy and Papa made love?”

I was trying to put together a reply that answered his question while explaining that his question was crossing a line of privacy when Matthew pulled off Billy’s wrist to say, “Father said that making love was only to be done to make babies.”

Michael added, “And that two boys should never touch each other there or God will hate them forever.”

I looked at my newest sons, understanding that this was a critical moment for them to learn what love really means. “Boys, what you were told isn’t true,” I began gently, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “Making love isn’t just about having babies. It’s a way of showing someone how much they mean to you, of sharing something deep and special that goes beyond words. Your daddy, your papa, and I plan to be together forever—to care for one another, to protect each other, and to share our lives in a way that connects our souls. Love is a gift, whether it’s between men, women, or a mixture of both. It’s never something to be ashamed of or afraid of, no matter what anyone tells you.”

Billy added, “What really matters is the love and respect behind it, not the people involved. I don’t believe that God is so small minded and hateful that He would ever hate anyone, let alone hate someone for loving another being with everything they have. Love, in any form, is a force that strengthens us, heals us, and helps us build a family. That’s why it’s not wrong, and it’s never a sin for people to express their love in a way that’s right for them.”

Matthew seemed to consider our words, but Michael argued, “But Father said we should never touch our, um,” he blushed, then pointed and said, “down there.”

I took a breath, thinking about how to explain it. “Listen, boys, there’s nothing wrong with learning about your body. It’s not sinful or dirty to touch yourself. It’s just part of figuring out who you are and what feels good. People sometimes say it’s bad because they’re uncomfortable talking about stuff like that, but it doesn’t mean it actually is. The important thing is that it’s something you do because you want to. Don’t feel bad or ashamed; you’re not doing anything wrong just by being curious or trying to understand yourself.”

Chipper chimed in with, “It’s not ok if someone touches your penis if you don’t say it’s okay, unless it’s like Dad or Daddy checking if I hurt myself or somethin’, but if I say it’s okay, then you can touch mine. But not like an adult touching you there, that’s almost never ok, ‘cept if they’re helping you wash or they’re a doctor.”

“Has anyone ever touched you there, Chipper?” Matthew timidly asked.

“Dad and Daddy and Papa wash me all the time,” he replied. “But if you mean has someone rubbed me like Craig—” Chipper glanced at me guiltily, then corrected himself. “If you mean has someone rubbed me like I’ve seen other boys doing, an older friend and me did it once.”

“But you said you shouldn’t let older guys do it,” Michael argued.

Chipper looked at me, and when I nodded, he replied, “It was an older friend who ain’t an adult and he did it ‘cause I saw him doing it and asked what he was doing, so he ‘splained it and showed me.”

“And I have explained to both Craig and Chipper that they shouldn’t do things like that together because of their age differences,” I said. Then I asked, “It sounds like your father explained sex to you boys, but that explanation didn’t include masturbation?”

“He told us how to make a baby,” Michael replied, “but he said we weren’t supposed to do that until we’re married.”

“And only with our wife,” Matthew added.

I bit my lip and thought for a moment, then asked, “Have you boys disobeyed what your father said and touched yourselves? Or each other?”

The look of terror on both their faces answered my question, so I said, “I won’t force you to believe what I believe, but I hope you understand that some of your father’s beliefs weren’t quite true. Personally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with touching yourself, or someone else that’s near your age, as long as you both say it’s okay.”

Matthew’s next question told me I was slowly clearing away the misinformation. “So… is there a right way and a wrong way to do it? Touch it, I mean?”

Chipper looked at me and said, “Craig said it’s supposed to feel really good at the end, but it always just feels the same. Am I doing it wrong?”

I felt Billy and Scott holding back their laughter as it hit me; our question-and-answer period was about to evolve into a masturbation lesson. Rather than fight it, or feel awkward about it, I decided to embrace it. I quickly gave them an overview of male anatomy, using Scott as a model. I then demonstrated the basic motions, including several variations on grip. As I did this, the boys mimicked my actions on themselves. At one point I noticed the twins tentatively touching each other. Having given them the basics, I wanted to make sure we didn’t cross a line, so I told them they could ask us more questions later, but for now, we should shower and head to breakfast. In my mind I heard both my mates telling me they were proud of the way I had handled what, to most humans, would have been a very uncomfortable conversation.

Our post lesson shower was interesting and enlightening. Interesting in that the twins were more open in their curiosity than before. Enlightening in that neither had a bad reaction to our washing their private areas and both simply accepted the ensuing erections. Matthew was even brave enough to ask if he could touch Chipper’s. When Chipper washed us, like he often did, the twins chose to stand back and observe, though they did pay close attention as Billy swelled from the physical stimulation of being washed.

As we were drying off, Chipper turned to the twins and explained, “If you guys have more questions, ask Dad and Daddy and Papa. It’s their job to teach us, and maybe Miss Jenny, and now maybe Uncle, er, Maître Henrik, but it’s not nice to talk about it to other people, unless someone’s touching you and you don’t want them to. Then you tell anyone who will listen until they make them stop.”

I winked at Chipper as I said, “He said it perfectly. Now, who wants bacon?”

We followed four naked boys who ran, or toddled, from our bedroom to the family dining room. Just as they entered, we heard Jenny scolding them for coming to the table naked, and we laughed as they retraced their steps to put on some clothing. When they returned, each apologized to Jenny, then asked her to help them get a plate of food. We were just sitting down to eat when Opa walked in, followed by Henrik and Antonio. I was pleased to see that Henrik’s first greeting was aimed at the boys, and when they replied using Maître, he corrected them, saying it was breakfast, so he was Uncle.

Throughout this exchange, Opa’s eyes remained fixed on the three of us. When I noticed, he raised an eyebrow and smirked. My grin was all the reply he needed. As he headed for his chair, he leaned in and whispered something to Billy that made him cough, then shake his head no as Opa laughed. When I asked about it later, Billy explained that Opa had asked if he was now also a Baron.

When Marco joined the table, he asked, “Would it be possible for me to meet with my predecessor’s Esquire this morning, Don Carlo?”

I looked at Tommy and Chris and asked, “What can you tell me so far?” They exchanged a glance, then Tommy looked at the twins. I understood his meaning but decided they should know the truth. “Spare us the worst, Tommy, but I think it’s best if they hear the truth.”

Tommy nodded and said, “As you saw, Greg, Cornelis Boels was a cruel individual. Vampires in his Baronetcy rightfully feared him. We’ve found evidence that he tortured anyone who dared to question him, and his previous Esquire died under questionable circumstances.”

“Based on early reports from the Marshals on scene,” Chris explained, “there were very few who agreed completely with his extreme beliefs. Other than the nurse, the household staff were serving out of fear for their lives, or those of their families. I will be charging the nurse with several counts of cruelty to children, based on her treatment of the twins. As to the Esquire, everything indicates that he was terrified he would end up like his predecessor.” Turning to Marco he asked, “Do you have someone in mind you would like to attempt to name as his replacement?”

“Based on what you’ve said, I do not,” Marco replied. Seeing their confusion, he went on. “I had planned on asking if you felt the man was redeemable, hoping he would help me transition into my role. Having heard your assessment, unless Don Carlo objects, I would like to meet with him and ask if he is willing to retain his position.”

“While I appreciate your deference, Marco, I do not plan on making a habit of second-guessing my Baronets,” I replied. “If, after meeting him, you feel you want to retain him, I will not object.”

Marco nodded, then turned to Chris, and asked, “Is he still in the cells? Should I meet with him there, or have him brought to me?”

Before Chris could reply, his phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, excused himself, and stepped out of the room. Rather than leave Marco waiting, Billy said, “It’s your choice, Baronet, but if you want to retain him, I suggest we have the Marshals release him and inform him of your desire to meet. Let him decide if he wants to meet or not, and he can clean himself up before meeting with you.”

“Excellent advice,” Chris said as he re-entered the room. “I’ll have him released immediately and let him know you’d like to meet with him.” As he sat, Chris turned to me and said, “That was Tyler on the phone. He’s having a Halloween party tomorrow night and wondered if we all could come.”

“Isn’t he the one that freaked out when that other wrestler came out?” Billy asked.

“He is, but there’s a long story there, and it’s not mine to share,” I said. “I’d love to see the guys one last time, but can we make it work? Tommy has already told the school that I’ve gone into hiding.”

“I never got to go trick-or-treating,” Scott said. "This might be the only chance our boys get to experience it, Greg. We could take them around your old neighborhood before the party.”

“I used to love dressing up and going around to all the houses,” I reflected. “I’d love to take the boys around, Scott, but I don’t know how we can get away with it.”

“Father took me around one time; you could always do what he did,” Jenny offered. When we all turned to her, she explained. Her plan was outrageous, but Scott and Billy convinced me that we needed to do it for the boys. We spent the next few hours doing a dress rehearsal and when I saw the results, I started to think it would work.

Andrew sent Paddy to town to buy the things we needed to create costumes for the boys, and Paddy later told us that finding the things for Charlie’s outfit was the hardest, due to his size. We had to show them clips from several old movies before they believed that humans dressed up and ran around begging for candy. After that, we had to show them clips from various movies to show the boys how humans viewed vampires and other supposedly fictional supernaturals.

“So humans really think that shifters lose their clothes like we do?” Matthew asked.

Before I could reply, Chipper said, “That’s no sillier than them thinking we can’t walk around in the sun.”

“Or eat garlic,” Micheal added.

On hearing their discussion, Jenny said, “I think I’ll suggest to Maître Henrik that he give the boys a lesson on human myths and legends about the supernatural world.”

Scott and I laughed when Billy said, “That will take more than one lesson, but I’d love for the boys to learn how humans see us.”

“Well, all my beliefs were shattered when I learned the truth. I’d love to sit in on that series of lessons,” I added.

“Consider it done,” Jenny said. “Would this afternoon be too soon?”

After checking my schedule with Billy and Jake, we decided that the boys would begin their lessons on the supernatural after their afternoon art lessons with Pisanello. In the meantime, my Council and I had a meeting with Marshal Davis to learn about his progress, as well as a meeting with Alan to see his preliminary drawings for the castle renovations.

As we headed down the hall, we ran into Marco, who told us he had met with the Esquire from Lake Placid and, after their talk, the man had agreed to remain in his post. He also let me know that he had spoken to the Marshals in Lake Placid, and they were finished with his house. He thanked us for hosting him but felt he needed to leave immediately to begin cleaning up the mess Cornelis Boels created. After we wished him well, Marco and his Esquire left for the airport as we headed for my office where we found Marshal Davis waiting.

“I’m sorry if we kept you waiting, Marshal,” I said as I shook his hand.

“I just arrived, My Lord.”

Once Paddy and Johnny brought drinks for everyone, I asked, “Well, Marshal Davis, what have you found?”

“I’ll begin with the issue of legality,” he began. When I started to speak, he raised his hand to hold me off and added, “I know you’ve said not to worry about that issue, My Lord, but we needed to know what the law says. Depending on what we found, those still alive would have to answer to justice.”

I nodded and motioned for him to go on. Marshal Davis pulled some papers from his bag and handed them around as he said, “The closest we found to a law addressing this is an admonition to the nobility dated 1698 stating,” he glanced at the paper in his hand and read, “It is the solemn duty of all nobility to exercise proper stewardship over the funds and lives entrusted to their care. Let no noble forget that the privilege of rank carries with it a burden of responsibility, to govern with wisdom, temperance, and justice. To squander resources or neglect the well-being of the people is not only an affront to one's station but a grievous betrayal of the trust bestowed upon them by the gods and the Nation of Dracul. Therefore, let each noble act with diligence and integrity, mindful that their actions reflect not only upon themselves but upon the honor of their title and the stability of the realm.”

After placing the paper on the table, he said, “The fact that Baron Evans under-reported tax income and kept the money for his own personal use has been verified by the accountants assisting me. We will have an estimate of how much that amounts to sometime next week. As to the legality of his actions, it could be argued he failed in exercising proper stewardship of the funds entrusted to his care but prosecuting him after his death would be nearly impossible, and without that, those who assisted him can simply say they were following orders.”

“Prosecuting anyone from the previous administration would look bad, Greg,” Chris interjected. “Along with that, if the fact that a Baron embezzled public funds became widely known, it could create a lack of trust in our administration.”

“While that’s true, Chris, the public finding out that we knew about it and did nothing, that will cause a lack of trust as well,” Jake argued.

The debate went back and forth like this for the next fifteen minutes. As I listened to the opposing views, I realized that Brian and Billy were offering opinions on both sides. When I realized this, I understood that they were doing this simply to encourage the debate, to provide me with as much information as possible when I considered the issue. When my friends began to recycle their arguments, I decided it was time to speak up.

I cleared my throat and waited. When they were silent, I said, “We will deal with any public backlash when it happens, and yes, I said when. Word will get out no matter what we do, and I can not live with myself if we don’t prosecute anyone we can.” I turned to Marshal Davis and said, “I will be contacting the Prince about this issue next week, Marshal. I would appreciate it if you would provide me a list of those involved, their level of involvement, and the criminal charges you feel we should pursue.”

“With respect, My Lord, please don’t contact the Prince just yet,” he replied. Reading my shock, he continued, “I have reason to believe that Baron Evans was not alone in his actions. There is evidence that several other nobles are doing the same.”

Stunned, Chris asked, “May we ask who?”

Marshal Davis looked pensive, then said, “I must ask for the utmost discretion in this.” He paused and waited for us to agree, then said, “There is evidence that six other Barons and Count Morrison have also skimmed from Dracul funds. When I discovered the Count might be involved, I contacted some of my friends at the FBI and asked them to quietly look into the accounts of every noble in North America. Until our investigation is completed, I would like to keep this from the attention of those we are investigating.”

Everyone turned to me and waited as I considered this. It only took a moment for me to realize he was right, so I said, “I will not interfere with your work, Marshal. I told you that you’re independent, and I meant it. I appreciate your sharing what you have, and I will wait to notify the Prince until you say I he has been cleared of any wrongdoing.”

Marshal Davis stood and said, “I appreciate your discretion in this, My Lord. I will certainly keep you informed.”

He had no sooner left than Paddy knocked and announced that Alan had arrived. When he was shown in, Alan wasted no time. Rather, he pulled a roll of blueprints from his bag, and we were all looking over his shoulder as he spread them on the table. The questions began before he was finished spreading out his papers.

Laughing, he said, “I’d hate to see you boys at Christmas—” He froze, then stuttered, “Forgive me, My Lord, I forget myself.”

“It’s fine, Alan. We’ll be working together for quite a long time, I really hope you can become comfortable calling me Greg,” I said. With a grin, I looked at Jake and added, “And you’re right, the twins are known for searching their parent’s house before Christmas.”

Josh laughed and Jake smirked as he said, “Guilty!”

“Now, Alan, you’ll have to explain what I’m seeing. Unlike the twins, I’m not very experienced at reading blueprints.”

“With pleasure, My, er, Greg,” Alan stammered. As his finger traced around the blueprint, he explained, “The top page is the re-configured main floor. As you see, most of the existing space will be taken up by the great hall, the formal dining hall, and a second smaller hall for less formal entertainment. I’ve also added a sitting room and dressing room at the end of the great hall, as well as a large butler’s pantry and a smaller formal dining room for those occasions when you’re entertaining a much smaller party.”

“And what do you mean by a smaller party?” I asked.

“Twenty-four or so, depending on the table choices and layout,” he replied.

Seeing my surprise, Andrew interjected, “Trust me, Greg, the staff will be tripping all over each other if you try to entertain too many in a small space. The large dining hall can be laid out for fifty without feeling like you’re in a stadium. Leave it to me.” He looked closer at the plans and asked, “Could we find a way to make the small dining room twenty by forty? Depending on the table layout, we could seat as many as…” He thought for a moment, then said, “Fifty on a large oval or sixty using the u-shape tables currently in the formal dining room.”

After a nod from me, Alan pulled out a mechanical pencil and made some notes, drew in a few lines, and nodded. He looked up and asked, “Any other changes anyone would like to suggest?”

“Do we really need a dressing room on the main floor?" I asked.

Again, Andrew educated me by saying, “When you’re hosting a large event, you’ll be happy to have the convenience, Greg. When you’re holding court, it will allow your valets to put the finishing touches on you just before you present yourself to the court.”

“I will trust you on this as well, Andrew,” I said. “It certainly falls under your area of expertise.”

“Forgive me, Greg,” Alan offered, “I got Lady Amy’s input on the kitchens, I should have consulted with Andrew on the formal areas prior to bringing this to you.”

“I’ll hear none of that, Alan,” I replied. “I rushed you; it’s as much my fault as yours. I’m just glad your ego allows you to accept these changes without taking it personally.”

Alan smiled as he said, “Changes are part of the job.” He looked around and asked, “Any other questions?”

Josh pointed at the great hall and asked, “Alan, I think these details are great; would you like to explain them to Greg? Or should I?”

“I’m glad you pointed them out, Josh, thank you,” Alan replied. “This dotted line is the edge of a raised dais, two steps above the main floor, where Greg can place his seat of office and hold court. These dotted lines are galleries which overlook the main hall and will allow for a larger audience during court, a place for live musicians to perform, or for your Baronets to step away for a private word without leaving the main gathering.”

“I’m sorry, Alan, but you’ve left out the best parts,” Josh added while pointing to some notes. “This here says the main hall will have an exposed beam vaulted ceiling while the dining room will have an ornate coffered ceiling. Both will add grandeur and enhance the regal feel of the public spaces.”

Alan smiled and nodded his thanks to Josh, then said, “If no one has anything more for the main floor, we’ll move on to the third floor.”

“Third floor?” Brian asked. “Is there a reason you’re skipping the second floor?”

Andrew and Alan exchanged a laugh as Alan said, “When I was a child, this is what we would call the second floor, Brian.” Seeing our confusion, he went on to explain the differences in how Americans and Europeans label the various levels of a home. When he finished, he explained that the great hall was three stories high and the other rooms were two stories high, meaning the second floor was effectively non-existent.

“As I was saying, on the third and forth floors, we have the guest suites. Those on the third floor are larger and imagined for the times you’re hosting your Viscount, Count, or even Prince George,” Alan explained.

There was very little input regarding these VIP suites as they had little effect on us. We agreed they were more than adequate and aside from some minor suggestions, we accepted them as Alan envisioned them. The real discussion began when he pulled out the sheets that showed the new wings.

My shock must have been apparent because Alan said, “Yes wings, plural, Greg. Please, hear me out,” I nodded, so he quickly went on. “I know our original conversation was about a single wing, but this plan will make for a more balanced exterior. If you hate it, I do have drawings that meet your original requirements.”

I looked over his drawings and thought for a moment, then nodded for him to continue. Once he showed us the plans for an executive wing that included a large two-story library, two conference rooms, as well as offices for me, Scott, Billy, and my entire council, including four extras ‘just in case, I was convinced. The plans for the residential wing were even more impressive. Having listened to everything we had said, the entire wing was one residence that was strategically laid out to allow for quickly remodeling into smaller apartments as our needs changed.

While I was amazed at his plans, what amazed me the most was that not a single change was suggested after he went through the details. The only remaining task was choosing the various finishes, fixtures, and appliances. Knowing interior design wasn’t one of my strengths, I told Billy and Scott to work with Josh and Alan on this, retaining veto power in case I absolutely hated their choices.

We had worked through lunch, and just finished in time to join Uncle Henrik and the boys in the library as they began their block of lessons, which Henrik titled ‘Humans and the so-called Supernaturals’. He promised that over the next several weeks, the boys would be introduced to the many non-human sentient beings that inhabited the earth. Today, he spent the hour addressing how humans saw vampires.

“So Daddy wasn’t teasing us when he said humans think we can change into bats?” Chipper asked when this issue was addressed.

“Not only is it accepted as fact, but they have also believed, at times, that we can change into wolves, cats, and mist as well,” Uncle Henrik replied. “Would any of you boys like to venture a guess as to what was the genesis of this belief?”

Chipper was trying to sort out the wording when Matthew timidly guessed, “Bram Stoker’s Dracula?”

“A very astute observation, Matthew, and not far off the mark. Bram Stoker’s book was published in 1897, a mere hundred years after the discovery of bats in South America that, like us, lived off the blood of their victims. Some humans had made this connection, and the popularity of Stoker’s novel served to establish it into the lore. The legends of our shape-shifting abilities had been around in Eastern European mythology for several centuries prior to this, but until Dracula, there was no mention of bats,” Henrik explained. “Any guesses where they came up with the shapeshifting?”

“Confusing us with shifters?” Craig questioned.

Henrik nodded as he said, “That is one theory, Craig. Another is that several vampires were not as discreet when shifting into beast form as they should have, and the humans who witnessed it decided what they saw was a wolf, rather than our beast.”

“But don’t most non-humans shapeshift in some fashion?” Michael asked.

“All non-human species either shapeshift in some fashion or hide their true appearance behind some form of magic,” Henrik replied. “I will address these as we discuss each species in the future, Michael, but if you’d like to read ahead of our lessons, I’m sure we can find a book or two on the subject in the library.”

“Thank you, no, Maître. You’ve already given us enough to read.” Michael replied. When his brain caught up with his mouth, the poor boy turned a deep shade of red.

Uncle Henrik hid his grin as he replied, “It’s a good man who knows his limits, Michael.” After glancing at the changelings in the room, he said, “Now that we’ve discovered how humans see us, let us discuss how they don’t see us.”

The boys looked confused, and Henrik’s silence implied he was waiting for the questions. Finally, Matthew asked, “Do you mean how we live among them, and they fail to notice us?”

“Again, very good, Matthew. Do you have any theories to explain why that is?”

The boys appeared to think it over, and Matthew seemed to have an idea but hesitated, likely not wanting to come across as a know-it-all. Finally, Chipper suggested, “They’ve decided that the fact we’re a myth is fact, so anything that disproves the fact is myth?”

This time, Henrik couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “Would you care to rephrase that, Chipper? I think you’re correct, but my head is hurting trying to decode your answer.”

Chipper grinned. “Sorry, Maître. What I mean is they’re convinced we’re a myth, so anything that doesn’t fit the myth can’t be real.”

“That’s what I thought you meant, and you are correct—at least according to most vampire sociologists.” Henrik glanced at the clock and continued, “Now, our time is up for the day—and the week. We will continue this topic next Friday at the same time. When we do, I want each of you to share a different fact about shifters. By this, I mean specifically figura shifters of any genus. We will address other species in future lessons.”

I nodded and said, “Off to shower, then bed, boys. We have to leave early if you want to have time to trick-or-treat.”

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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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