Dawn Walker-Chapter 167: House building

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"What are you doing today," she asked, careful, like someone testing ice.

Sekhmet glanced down the corridor toward the room where Bat Bat was sleeping under Elena’s authority. He could almost sense trouble waiting behind that door like a tiny storm with wings.

"I need materials," Sekhmet said.

Elena blinked once. "Materials," she repeated, as if weighing whether that word was safe.

"Yes," Sekhmet replied. "Wood. Clothes. Nails. Stone. Things that look normal if purchased."

Elena’s eyes narrowed slightly. She did not ask why yet. She understood that when Sekhmet spoke in this tone, he was building something behind the curtains. He always was.

"Will you take the new girl," Elena asked, meaning Mira.

Sekhmet paused. It was a reasonable suggestion. Mira had the kind of mind that remembered numbers, bargains, and lists. She would be useful. She also had a contract that made her responsibilities clear. That was the point of contracts, after all. They turned chaotic human intention into predictable obligations.

"She will come," Sekhmet said. "But she does not need to know everything."

Elena nodded as if she had expected that.

"And the twins," Elena asked, voice neutral.

Sekhmet’s eyes flicked briefly toward the guest wing. He could feel Vera and Vela even without looking, not because the bond screamed, but because it existed like a quiet thread in his chest.

"They stay," Sekhmet replied.

Elena’s expression did not soften, but it did shift, like she was storing the information carefully.

"Good," she said. "They have eaten. They did not cause trouble. But they did argue with servant girls about you."

Sekhmet’s eyelid twitched faintly. "They need to be disciplined," he said, because that was the safest way to describe vampires without calling them vampires.

Elena’s gaze held on him for a moment longer, then she finally allowed herself to ask the question she had been holding back.

"Why," she said. "Does Dawn House suddenly need lumber?"

Sekhmet looked at her.

Elena held his gaze without flinching, because Elena had survived the old monsters, survived the death gaze, survived noble politics, and survived Bat Bat’s inability to accept that letters were real.

Sekhmet spoke calmly.

"I am expanding control," he said. "If the house becomes stronger, we need more secure storage and better internal organization. I want separate rooms prepared, internal barriers improved, and a private space that is not reachable by random guests."

Elena’s eyes narrowed. "You mean you want to build something," she said.

"Yes," Sekhmet replied.

Elena exhaled slowly. "Then you will eat first," she said.

Sekhmet’s mouth opened to argue.

Elena raised one finger, and the finger carried the same authority as a parent had.

"You will eat," she repeated. "Then you will work."

Sekhmet stared at her for a heartbeat.

Then he nodded once, because sometimes the easiest way to win a war was to surrender a small battle.

"Fine," he said.

Elena’s eyes softened by a fraction, satisfied. "Good," she replied, and then she turned and marched away, already preparing the kitchen to treat Sekhmet’s stomach like a hostage she had successfully negotiated back.

Sekhmet walked toward the dining area. He did not make it far before Bat Bat exploded out of a doorway like a cannonball made of indignation.

Her hair was messy. Her wings were half open. Her eyes were wide with the kind of outrage only someone with no responsibility could maintain.

"Master," Bat Bat said, pointing dramatically. "Bat Bat had a nightmare."

Sekhmet looked at her. "About what?" he asked, because he was curious enough to regret it immediately.

"Letters," Bat Bat whispered, voice trembling with true horror. "Letters chase Bat Bat. Letters bite Bat Bat. Letters say write write write."

Sekhmet stared.

He did not know how Elena managed to make literacy feel like a demonic predator, but he respected the result.

Elena appeared behind Bat Bat like the shadow of a punishment.

"Bat Bat is exaggerating," Elena said, tone flat.

Bat Bat spun around and threw her arms wide, as if presenting evidence in court.

"Look," Bat Bat said. "Elena is evil. Elena is the evil letter demon queen."

Elena’s eyes narrowed in anger.

Bat Bat immediately lowered her arms and tried a different strategy.

Bat Bat turned back to Sekhmet, smiling sweetly, the smile of someone trying to bribe destiny.

"Master," Bat Bat said. "Bat Bat will help master today. Bat Bat heard everything. Bat Bat carries wood. Bat Bat is strong."

Sekhmet’s voice stayed calm. "No," he replied.

Bat Bat’s smile froze.

"Why," she demanded, as if he had just announced he hated fun.

"Because you have homework," Sekhmet said.

Bat Bat gasped. "Master is also... demon," she accused.

Elena put a hand on Bat Bat’s shoulder.

Bat Bat stiffened like she had been touched by doom.

Elena spoke gently, and that gentleness was somehow more terrifying than shouting.

"Bat Bat," Elena said, "today you will practice writing my name. Then you will practice writing your master’s name. Then you will practice writing the word responsibility."

Bat Bat’s face went pale.

"Responsibility is long," Bat Bat whispered, devastated.

Sekhmet almost smiled. He did not allow it fully, but the corner of his mouth moved slightly. It was the closest thing to humor he let himself show in front of Elena, because he suspected Elena would add extra homework if she saw him enjoy Bat Bat’s suffering too much.

"Study," Sekhmet said. "I will be busy."

Bat Bat stared at him like he was a traitor.

Then she pointed at his chest and delivered her final cursed prophecy.

"Master," Bat Bat said, "if Bat Bat learns to write master name, master must take Bat Bat hunt."

Sekhmet blinked once. "Hunt," he repeated.

Bat Bat nodded solemnly. "Hunt is a reward. Blood is power," she said.

Elena’s eyes narrowed. "What blood? Are you talking in some secret language?"

Bat Bat looked at Elena with pure disgust. "Elena is jealous," she said.

"Bat bat is joking." Sekhmet exhaled once and walked away before he became involved in a debate that could last until winter.

Breakfast was served quickly.

It was simple. Meat. Bread. Something hot that tasted like herbs and discipline. Sekhmet ate because Elena watched him eat like a guard watching a prisoner chew.

When he finished, Elena handed him a folded list.

"Materials," Elena said. "If you are buying, buy properly. Do not return with half a wall and no nails."

Sekhmet accepted the list.

It was detailed. Of course it was. Elena treated logistics as a sacred ritual.

"You will take two servants and a cart," Elena added.

Sekhmet paused. "I can carry—"