Strange Brew

by Angela Colsin

  Chapter 17

  “It should be soon now.”

  Aislinn had to take a deep, steadying breath. Of all the things she'd hoped to hear that day, getting a head's up that dear old dad could soon be coming to town wasn't one of them.

  From the moment she'd stepped inside the home, she'd known something was up—and it seemed as if the Rite of Romedra was definitely working because her intuition told her more quickly than ever why her mother and aunt were trying to banish someone. Aislinn wouldn't call it Annika-fast perception, but damned if she was complaining.

  Still, the news of her father's return diminished any sense of accomplishment she'd gained over the ritual's success. Aislinn wasn't sure she ever wanted to see Derick Rowden again, and it was clear that Miranda had no intentions of being hospitable when she went on, “I don't know what his intentions are, or if he even has any. Maybe he'll simply pass through Arkin City without stopping. But as long as he stays away from here, we won't have a problem.”

  The more she said, the more uncomfortable Aislinn felt. On one hand, she felt beholden to stay away from her dad if only because her mother wanted nothing to do with him. But another part of her, perhaps a more childish part, wanted answers to all of the questions she'd never gotten to ask.

  Staring down at the floor in thought over the matter, she took notice of her hand in Troy's as he stroked her knuckles with his thumb in a gesture of comfort. It wasn't much, but it dissolved some of her uneasiness and doubt. Aislinn didn't want to put her burdens on Troy, but just knowing he was there to help if she ever wanted it offered a sense of security she sorely needed.

  With the thought in mind, she lifted her face back up to ask Miranda, “If I sought him out, would you object?”

  Miranda grumbled, but didn't deny her daughter. “As strong as my instincts are, no, I couldn't do that. I'd have to caution you, but you deserve a chance to say things to him I'm sure you've kept bottled up for years. Now if you wanted me to speak with him? I'm sorry, but the answer is no.”

  Helen snorted. “Rand's idea of a conversation with Derick would only involve the verses of a Poena Hex punctuated by the phrase get bent.”

  Finally, Miranda smiled. “You know me too well, but let's not talk about him.” Leaning against the counter, she turned her attention to Aislinn again, asking, “So how are you feeling now that you've performed the ritual?”

  Aislinn was grateful for the change in subject, and considered her answer before stating, “I'm fine, picked up on what was going on here without any trouble. It's like … having an extra dose of energy to burn without feeling overwhelmed.”

  “Good. Hopefully you won't automatically scoff the next time I suggest something I think could benefit you.”

  Aislinn smiled, though she was surprised that her mother hadn't attempted to embarrass her because of her intimate relations with Troy the previous evening. Yet, when Miranda asked, “What are you planning on doing today, anyway?” it reminded her that today was her birthday, and her mother was probably planning the traditional birthday bash.

  “Goddess, mom,” she muttered. “I just turned twenty-five and you still wanna give me a cake with balloons?”

  Arching a single brow, Miranda crossed her arms over her chest and asked, “Do you see any cake or balloons around here?”

  “The lack of visual confirmation means nothing,” Aislinn returned suspiciously. “You do it every year.”

  Sighing dramatically, her mother retorted, “Yep, and to commemorate the fact that you're finally entering into a serious relationship this year, I had the balloons made out of condoms.”

  Aislinn's jaw dropped just as Troy and Helen started laughing.

  “Good one, Rand,” her aunt commented.

  “You did not!” Aislinn interjected.

  Grinning, Miranda mentioned sarcastically, “There was a choice of condom balloons, or penis-shaped candles on the cake. Either way, congrats, you're a woman now.”

  A few snickers erupted from Aislinn's throat that she tried to contain if only to keep from egging her mother on. But Troy was still chuckling, and she swatted his arm for it—which made him laugh even harder.

  “It's not funny, Troy!”

  “Are you kidding? Penis-shaped candles?” To her mother and aunt, he asked, “How do you put them out?”

  “Blow!” the sisters answered simultaneously, and their laughter escalated.

  Aislinn covered her eyes with her hand, letting several snickers while muttering, “You're all horrible.” Once her amusement was under control, she looked at Miranda specifically and mentioned, “You know, some mothers would see their child's inability to sustain a relationship as a cry for help, but my mom? Nope, let's just break out the condom balloons.”

  Miranda grinned, “You love me for it. You also love the attention we give you on your birthday. You just pretend to think it's childish.”

  “Maybe,” Aislinn admitted sheepishly. “But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you off easy for trying to embarrass me.”

  “If I was trying to embarrass you, I would have.”

  That was very true, and Aislinn decided to count her blessings. “Yeah, so I'll just be going upstairs before you change your mind.”

  Smirking, Miranda replied, “We'll call you down when the food's ready.”

  With a nod, she turned to go, but only made it to the door before her mother added, “Troy, could I speak with you alone for a moment?”

  “Sure,” he agreed, then promised Aislinn, “I'll come up in a minute.”

  Nodding, she only then realized she was still clutching his hand, and finally let go so he could speak with Miranda while she headed upstairs.

  Just a moment later, Aislinn opened the door to her old bedroom at the end of the hall, and as always, it felt like taking a trip into the past. She hadn't lived at home in several years, but her bed, dresser, and cabinet were still there, and still decorated with several of her old things like some long-standing testament to adolescence.

  After using the private bathroom it offered, she found herself sitting on the bed, deep in thought that she only wished revolved solely around Troy.

  Things had certainly changed between them, and not just because of a night of mind-blowing sex—though that was certainly a part of it. There were simply too many parallels for her to ignore. She was his mate, and he was her familiar. She'd predicted they'd be compatible in bed, and last night was definite proof.

  So was she really going to be the love of his life after all?

  Aislinn wanted to consider the possibilities, and figure out her own developing feelings, but the more she tried to focus, the less she was able to stop her mind from roaming to thoughts of her father.

  Her surroundings didn't help push it away either, considering her bedroom was the last place she'd ever seen him. Aislinn could clearly recall how he'd tucked her in and said goodnight—not goodbye—yet when she woke in the morning, he was simply gone, like he'd never even existed in the first place.

  It'd taken so long to accept that he wasn't coming back, and in a way, Aislinn still wasn't sure she'd fully come to terms with it. There was always some tiny part of her that thought he might show up again one day and offer an explanation, and she could never decide if it was just her way of staying prepared for the possibility, a long-standing intuition, or a childish hope that wouldn't be doused.

  But she did know that the actual chance to see him again caused so many conflicting emotions to churn in her gut that she thought she'd be sick.

  “I will not cry,” she whispered to herself, trying to stem the tide of tears threatening to spill by taking a deep breath.

  “Aislinn?”

  The door creaked open, and Troy stepped inside. Quickly, she worked to clear her throat of the lump that had formed with the effort of remaining calm, simultaneously hoping he wouldn't notice any redness in her eyes and ask about it. After all, today was her birthday, and she refused to have a sob-fest on Troy's shoulder.

 
She was more interested in finding out what her mother wanted with him anyway. Maybe it was a birthday surprise of some type, but Aislinn wouldn't be one bit surprised to learn that it had to do with Derick.

  She just needed to know how.

  Miranda had some surprising news to pass on.

  Aislinn didn't know it yet, but her mother was taking a week long trip to Atlanta so The Esbat could integrate her into their council as an elder. Due to her impending absence, she'd asked Troy to keep an eye on her daughter in case Derick dropped by, and even showed him a picture of the warlock for ease of identification.

  While Troy agreed with her request, he wasn't certain how well Aislinn might take to it. She seemed torn about a possible reunion with her father, making it likely that she'd frown at interferences. But Miranda hadn't asked to keep her intentions a secret, so he'd just have to discuss the situation with her daughter.

  Going upstairs once their talk was finished, Troy followed Aislinn's scent to an unlatched door at the end of the hall. Approaching it, he thought he heard her talking to someone, and gently pushed the door open while asking her name to find her sitting on the bed alone.

  It was easy to see she wasn't doing very well either. Her eyes were red as if on the verge of tears—though she tried to make him believe otherwise by offering a little smile.

  “How did you find me? My scent?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded, looking around the bedroom quietly. Judging by the young adult books lining a cabinet shelf near the bed, it seemed the room had likely belonged to Aislinn in her youth. But Troy was too concerned with her present state of being to inquire about it, walking over to sit next to her and ask instead, “Were you just talking to yourself?”

  “I was muttering about the cake and balloons thing,” Aislinn shrugged, and he didn't entirely believe her because she quickly changed the subject. “What did mom want?”

  Troy wished he could read her mind the same way he communicated with his kindred when they were ferine. But even then, Aislinn would have to qualify a thought before he could hear it, so it wouldn't have mattered, and he didn't push for information. She'd tell him what she was thinking in time.

  Besides, the answer to her question ran the risk of upsetting her even more, making it necessary to choose his battles wisely. So he started by announcing, “Actually, Miranda said she's going to Atlanta with your aunt for a week starting tomorrow because The Esbat wants to make her an elder.”

  “Really?” Aislinn looked surprised for a moment, but soon asked suspiciously, “Why did she wanna tell you that?”

  Troy sighed. “Because she wants me to keep an eye on you while she's gone in case your dad tries to get in touch with you.”

  Thankfully, Aislinn didn't snap in anger, though her groan proved she wasn't entirely happy with the news. “That's what I thought, and I wish she hadn't done that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just wanna handle things myself.”

  He nodded, unable to argue, especially without some idea of what it was like to be abandoned. Troy's parents were killed by vampires when he was still in his teens, but losing them simply wasn't the same thing, and it was frustrating not being able to empathize when she so clearly needed comfort.

  But he had to try, latching an arm around her waist to pull her onto his lap. Aislinn gasped as if she hadn't expected the movement, but she didn't fight him, settling with her legs draped over his thighs.

  Troy then tilted her chin up to catch her gaze and remarked, “She's just concerned, and I wanna make sure you're okay, too. So are you?”

  Aislinn looked hesitant, her blue eyes glistening as if there was only a thin barrier keeping her currently calm visage in tact.

  It was an assumption she proved true by tugging his hand from her chin to lay her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arms tightly around his sides. Troy hadn't expected such a reaction after spending the past week being denied any physical contact with her whatsoever. But it felt so damned natural that he automatically responded by slipping his own arms around her to keep as close as possible.

  “I don't know if I'm okay or not,” she finally whispered, “or how I should be feeling.”

  “Do you think he will come back?”

  “I have no clue,” she muttered. “He left without a word, and that doesn't give me much to go on. When I was a kid, I thought it was because I was a witch, but then mom told me he was a warlock, even a medium.”

  “Medium? You mean he could talk to spirits?”

  “Yeah,” she confirmed with a soft sigh. “But it didn't matter what he was, I started questioning everything about myself once he disappeared, and it messed me up for a long time. So the biggest reason I hope he does show up is so I can tell him what a fucking jackass he is for leaving.”

  “Can't say I blame you,” Troy muttered, harboring mixed feelings over the matter as well. A part of him wanted to respect Aislinn's wishes to stay out of it, but another part wanted to beat Derick's ass bloody for hurting her. “If he does show up, and—”

  He stopped when Aislinn placed her fingers over his lips, lifting her head to shake in the negative. “No, I know you and mom wanna protect me, but this is something I need to handle myself. So I don't want you saying a word to him.”

  Troy smirked, then pressed his lips to her fingertips in a kiss before pulling her hand away to relate, “I wasn't planning on talking to him, darlin', I was planning on kicking his ass if he hurt you.”

  Suddenly, she bit her lip to hide a smile, giving the impression that she probably wouldn't mind if he did, but still had reservations about seeing her father hurt, particularly in mentioning, “Let's just forget about him for now. I need to get a bath and get ready for the cake anyway.”

  Aislinn tried to stand, but Troy wasn't ready to relinquish his hold, pulling her back down with a playful tug.

  Landing in his lap, she gave him an amused look, insisting, “Let me up.”

  He ignored the request in favor of asking, “What should I get you for your birthday?”

  “You mean besides the orgasms you gave me last night? Because I assure you, those were all top quality.”

  Troy nearly growled over how forward she'd become now that she wasn't resisting temptation, and it was driving him even crazier than trying to keep a distance had over the past week.

  So he promised on a deep voice, “I could always give you more.”

  A slow grin formed on her lips, her eyes sparkling as if ready to kiss him. Smirking, he drew in closer to capitalize, but at the last moment, she teasingly shoved him back and slipped out of his arms before he recovered.

  “Knock it off, Troy,” Aislinn started, backing several steps away. “If you wanna get me a gift, then go and let me take a bath.”

  “I'd rather wash you,” he retorted, standing to approach her.

  Her breath hitched as if she hadn't thought of that, but would likely enjoy it, and indeed, his own blood was running hot over the prospect of pampering every inch of her body with a relaxing bath. But the moment he'd stood, she quickly took several steps back until she was at the bathroom door, retorting, “No way, we both know what'll happen if you come in this bathroom with me.”

  “We do,” he agreed.

  “I'll barricade myself inside, Troy, using magic,” she warned with a mischievous grin, and in that moment, he realized something very important—Aislinn enjoyed baiting him this way. Fitting, because I'll never get enough.

  But he wasn't going to let her get away with it despite his amusement, and moved in to stop her. Aislinn quickly opened the door, but Troy captured her just before she could slip inside, grinning as she shrieked when he lifted her from the floor.

  Turning, he pinned her body against the wall and pointed out triumphantly, “You'd have to actually get inside first.”

  “That's not fair, you're—mmp!” she moaned, her retort cut off as Troy seized her mouth in a deep kiss.

  Aislinn clutched him tightly in response, digging he
r fingers into his shirt at his back as their tongues met. Her aroused scent grew thick, her hips arching when Troy clutched her ass in a firm squeeze, bringing to mind the way she'd moved it against his palms the night before—a thought that quickly hardened him.

  Between kisses, he growled, “Can't get … enough of you.”

  “Troy, I really don't … wanna rush into this,” she returned in the same breathless manner, reminding him to exert a little more control, otherwise they would end up on the nearest flat surface available. Or sloped surface. Hell, Troy didn't even have to move her from their spot against the wall. What can I say, I'm versatile.

  Slanting his lips over hers one last time before breaking contact, he attempted to catch his breath, insisting, “Tell me what you want for your birthday, then.”

  “You,” she answered, seemingly before thinking better of it because she quickly amended, “Damn it, I didn't mean that.”

  Troy grinned at her slip of the tongue, stating, “That can be arranged, but I don't think there's a bow big enough to cover my dick.”

  Aislinn stared for a brief moment, then erupted in laughter. Hugging him tight and nuzzling her face against the crook of his neck, she murmured, “Thank you. I needed a good laugh.”

  Troy groaned in enjoyment, resting his cheek against the top of her head. “I should thank you, darlin'.”

  “For what?”

  For everything, he thought, kissing her temple in reverence. “For being so damned gorgeous. Now, you promised to let me take you out this evening, so at least tell me where you wanna go.”

  “Wherever you want.”

  If that was the case, the answer was obvious. “My bedroom it is.”

  Though he wasn't entirely serious, Troy wondered how she'd react since she was no longer abstaining. Last week, she would've probably said something like you wish, but now, she scoffed, informing him, “I'll be demanding you do if our date goes well.”

  He tensed, questioning if she was serious or just teasing. “You don't think it's too soon?”