My Stepmom Is a Vampire
Copyright© 2025 by Vamp
Chapter 13: An Awakward Lunch
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. The roach was too slippery, hard to get rid of,” Isolde said, her hand still wrapped around his as she led him toward the long dining table that looked big enough to host thirty guests.
She pulled out a chair at the head of the table, gesturing for Seamus to sit. He obeyed stiffly, uneasy in the oversized chair. Isolde sat beside him, her crimson eyes fixed on him like he was a rare delicacy.
The table was already filled to the brim: eggs, bacon, an entire roasted chicken, pastries, and desserts. Oddly, all of it was arranged only on his side. Isolde’s side was completely bare.
“Ugh, I don’t think I can eat if you keep staring at me like that,” Seamus finally muttered, breaking the silence.
Strangely, none of the food actually stirred his appetite. It all felt like stage props, meant to be seen, not eaten.
“What do you mean? Can’t I watch my lovely son eat with delight? You’re far too thin for your age,” she rested her head on one hand, smiling sweetly.
If she weren’t a vampire, her words might’ve sounded sweet maybe even motherly. But coming from her, they felt more like the sort of thing you’d say before fattening a pig for slaughter.
Isolde leaned over and placed eggs and bacon on his plate. Then she added a hashbrown. “You like this, don’t you?”
Seamus nodded numbly and forced himself to eat. The clink of cutlery on porcelain echoed between them was the sound in the room and eyes on him were louder than even a child’s scream.
“You’re not eating?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head, lips curved in amusement. “Well, I am looking at my food right now, aren’t I?” She chuckled. Even when it was a joke, it was enough to make him sweat.
“Oh, I’m joking, of course. Vampires can’t eat. But is the food good? Is it to your liking?”
‘Ah ... that explains it,’ he thought, as realization crept in.
Viviane had never eaten in front of him either not once. Even during full-day outings, she’d pass up every meal.
She also always wears a hat and a parasol, saying things like, “I hate the sun, I’m sensitive to it,” or “Bork is always rainy and damp anyway.”
How did he miss it? Love really does make people blind.
“It’s not bad. Just ... okay, I guess,” he replied, scooping more egg onto his fork.
“Good. Then I won’t have to replace the chef,” she said with a smile. “Anyway, how do you like the mansion? Comfortable, isn’t it?”
Seamus set his knife and fork down, eyes narrowing. “What are you doing to this mansion? Or to me? Why can’t I leave? And where’s my father? He said he was going on a honeymoon with you.”
Isolde didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she gently placed her hands on the table, her expression unreadable.
“You don’t have to worry about such things. This is for the best. Do you know how many vampires are after you?”
“I’m only trying to protect you from those wicked creatures,” she said, her hand gently grabbed his.
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