Lothaire asked, “What’s going on here?” I studied my cuticles. “Malum needs a tampon.” There was a long moment where my vampyre sire—the only man I’d ever call Daddy was my fictional lover who’d raze the realms for me—stared at me like he was trying to figure out if I was being serious. “Is this a daughter thing?” he asked slowly. “Do you need sanitary products?”
