Turns out a five-bedroom is barely enough space, half the time.
Besides, funding the renos had made Uncle Algy feel quite a bit better after the whole holding-me-hostage-to-save-his-granddaughters thing.
“How long are you in town for?” I ask Mom, once the coffee is going. I can hear everyone else chatting in the living room, but I’m in no hurry to rejoin the group. Everyone in there is used to each other by now, and it’s nice to just listen to the peaceful conversation as background noise.
“Not sure. Albert has a new theory he wants to test out, but he says he can’t leave because it’s finals week, and he’d have to put Ms. Rebuke in charge, and no one wants that.”
She looks bemused, like she isn’t entirely sure what that means, but is going along with it anyway, and I have to laugh.
“Probably true,” I say, not bothering to explain about Rebuke—who has been decidedly… different after flying off with a succubus during a certain demon battle.
“How’s school?” she asks, quietly, as if the topic is a prey animal she’s afraid of frightening away.
“It’s good, Mom. And you don’t have to sound so careful when you ask about it. I am not studying biology just to please you and Dad. Asking me how things are going isn’t going to influence me unduly.”
Can you tell we’ve had this conversation before?
“I just don’t want you to think that you have to—”
“She’s fine, Mom,” Trev’s voice calls from the front door. It accompanies the sounds of boots stomping and fabric rustling around. “I would know if she weren’t.”
I laugh, and take the distraction of Trev and Rhelia’s arrival as a chance to escape to the living room with the pot of coffee and a tray of mugs.
A few minutes later we are all settled into the living room, which should be huge, but now feels delightfully cramped.
Everyone has coffee or tea, depending on their preferences, and there are multiple threads of conversation going on throughout the room.
I feel warm, and happy, and realize with a tinge of surprise that this has become my new normal, somewhere over the past few months. We’re still working to undo all the harm that MOME has done. It’s a task so huge that we will probably never accomplish it, but we are making progress, after the first few months of total chaos, and things are starting to finally feel manageable. I’m not in danger of being killed every day. No one is asking me to save the world multiple times a week and… I’m doing what normal 19-year-olds do; going to school, having roommates, having romantic escapades with said roommates and the occasional non-roommate. You know, college stuff. And my relationship with my parents is almost normal as well. I no longer feel rage at what they did, just a sort of deep sadness that hits me sometimes. It’s a sadness I can talk to either of them about when it comes up, and we’ve done a lot of hugging and crying together since they’ve come back.
Things are, dare I say it, good.
Trev clears his throat.
“Rhelia and I have an announcement,” he says.
The whole room quiets and we all look at each other, equal parts puzzled and excited.
Rhelia stands up and points to her sweater, which contains a slight bulge.
My Dad starts to cry, and Mom clings to his arm, but then the bulge twitches and Rhelia hisses while reaching a hand underneath her sweater.
“We have decided to adopt a kitten!”
And she holds up the tiny feline like it is the greatest treasure on Earth.
Then we’re all on our feet, laughing and cooing at the tiny black cat with bright green eyes, as it stares bewilderedly at far too many big things crowding around it.
Almost at the same time, Sol and I shift to our cat forms and plop down on the ground in front of it. Rhelia sets it between us and it mews and squeaks, in the way that only kittens can. Sol gives it a lick, and I stick my nose out to give it a welcoming sniff.
Then it boops its tiny pink nose to mine, and everything is perfect.
THIS BOOK CONCLUDES Vic’s adventures… for now.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
These books wouldn’t have been possible without a fair bit of help from a number of people. My deepest gratitude goes out to the following people:
My editor, Aurora Wilson-McClain, for not only working with my sometimes ridiculous deadlines, but also for helping me sort out the best use of obscure spell references, the number of “s”s a certain dragon uses in her speech patterns, and where, exactly, everyone has left their clothes.
My husband, for putting up with me disappearing every evening for months on end in order to get these books written, for being my best cheerleader and for not giving me too much grief when I failed to get my half of the housework done.
Cedar, for letting me ignore her often enough to get formatting done, as well as promotion and marketing stuff, and for being so willing to hang out with her wonderful caregivers.
Anne, Lee, Jim, and Gabi, for keeping Cedar entertained, fed, and happy so that I could write.
To my Patreon supporters: Paul, Corey, Mishy, Marie, and Jessica.
To Paul (again) and Corey for reading ARCs and catching errata. (Now may be a good time to mention that my editor works her butt off to clean up my books, and my ARC readers volunteer their time to read and give me feedback. Any and all errata left in the books after these wonderful people are through with them are entirely my own doing.)
And finally, the folks at Stella’s au CCFM for always putting up with me occupying a table for hours on end while only ordering a cup of tea.
Virginia McClain is an author who masqueraded as a language teacher for a decade or so. When she's not reading or writing she can generally be found playing outside with her four legged adventure buddy and the tiny human she helped to build from scratch. She enjoys climbing to the tops of tall rocks, running through deserts, mountains, and woodlands, and carrying a foldable home on her back whenever she gets a chance. She's also fond of word games, and writing descriptions of herself that are needlessly vague.
For more information check out www.virginiamcclain.com.
Victoria Marmot- The Complete Series Page 68