by C. J. Hart
“S—sure, I can do that.” I can’t do that! I know I’ll end up crying in front of everyone and making a fool of myself.
“Okay, great.”
Great. I exhale audibly. “Got time for a coffee?”
She bobs her head and follows me to the kitchen.
“Dad bought me those Belgian chocolates I like.”
“Ooh. Can I pinch one?”
“Help yourself.” I grab two mugs and the jar of espresso beans.
“Thanks.” She leans against the counter and watches me grind the coffee to dust. “So, when’re you coming back to school? Marcus has been driving everyone nuts, asking about you.”
“Bet Tori loves that.”
She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter what she thinks now.”
“What does that mean?”
Her eyes widen. “They broke up. Didn’t you hear?”
“Marcus and Tori broke up?” I’ve been so far out of the inner circle lately that tidbits like this have slipped by, gone unnoticed until someone prods them. And what does this mean for me? Will Marcus’ blatant flirting ratchet up ten thousand notches? “Crap.”
Miley misinterprets that as sympathy. “I know, right. Sad.”
I figure it’s been a long time coming, but I don’t voice my opinion. She might not see things as I do. “Is the whole school still talking about me?”
Wincing visibly, she says, “Yeah.”
“It’ll blow over soon, right?”
“For your sake, I hope so, Cass.”
Half an hour later, I wave goodbye to Miley from the porch. As her coupe pulls out, Dad’s SUV swings in.
He hurries to lock the car and bounds up the five steps to me. “Hi, sweetheart.” He coils his arms around my shoulders, presses his lips to my cheek. “So delighted to have you back. Did you find the chocolates?”
“Yes, and thanks.”
He leads me into the house, shutting the door. “How’s Seb?”
His question catches me by surprise. He’s never asked about him before. “He’s fine, good.”
“Brilliant!” he says, without a clump of sarcasm. “I thought we could invite him over for dinner one night this week.”
I’m not sure I trust this alien facet of my father. Has he moved too quickly into accepting Seb?
“What do you think? Can be any night of your choice.”
“Sure, yeah. That’ll be great.”
He beams. “Let’s see what we can scrounge up for dinner, eh?” With an arm still around me, he tows me into the kitchen.
“I could whip up some pasta.” If I recall correctly, there’s still an unopened jar of sauce and a packet of spaghetti in the pantry.
“If you wish. Though we can easily call for takeout as well.”
I feel my stomach twist and knot. I’ve had too much junk this week. The drawbacks of living with someone who has a bigger sweet tooth than I do. Trying to outdo Seb is not an easy feat. “Hm.”
Dad smirks. “You look green. Is something wrong?”
“Pasta will be fine.”
He chuckles. “Someone in the Adler household must have a keen sugar stash.”
“Mm. And that someone is my boyfriend.” I swivel to fill a pot with water and set it on the stove.
Dad grabs the box of noodles and tears open one end. “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know, Dad.”
“You have every right to hate me.”
“I don’t, not anymore.”
“Seb?”
I shake my head. “But I’m curious why we drifted apart from my godparents.”
“Undoubtedly you are,” he says under his breath, dropping a handful of pasta into the pot. “We had a disagreement about whether I was a fit enough parent to raise you by myself. My wife had just died, and I was a wreck. They wanted to have you live there, with them.” He sighs. “Sometimes, I wonder if you would’ve been happier there, with a sister and a brother to play with …”
“I might not’ve met Seb.” And I wouldn’t be able to tell a skinwalker apart from a regular human.
“Yes, well, things have certainly changed, haven’t they?”
“Everything,” I say.
He’s silent for a minute. “I am sorry, also, about Eve.”
I tense, wait for the misery, the guilt, to come. It doesn’t. “Thanks.”
“If you like, I can drive you tomorrow.”
“Miley beat you to it.”
“She did? Oh. Never mind.” He lowers his eyes to his shoes.
I stir the noodles. “Are you going?”
He nods once. “As a courtesy to the Murpheys. I owe them that much.”
I’m about to ask what he means, when there’s a smash, tailed by a sickening crackling and the acrid smell of wood burning. My heart belly flops to my toes. Dad jogs into the hall. I shadow him.
A thick, gray waft of smoke clouds the entryway. My eyes can just make out the table by the door, snaked in amber—it’s on fire—and the trail of gasoline passing under our feet. Was this here when I came home? I would have smelled it, if it were.
Dad shoves me back the way we came. My toe snags on the corner of my suitcase, and I stumble.
He catches me and flings open the back door. “Run.”
Run where?
“Get out of here! Go!”
My pulse thunders in my ears. Before I realize where I’m going, my feet are carrying me around the house and down the street, through the darkness. My mind is numb as I am running. I can’t tell where I am going. I pause to catch my bearings. A porch light snatches my attention, shining bright, illuminating the front yard. I’ve returned to my safe haven.
Jack is in the yard, watering the hydrangeas. “Hello, Cassie.” He notices my bare feet first, then whatever’s on my face—fear? “What’s the matter?” The hose drops from his grasp.
“Call the fire department,” I say as I gulp in breaths. “My house is on fire.” Lizzy! I clutch at my chest. Oh, my poor cat.
He charges up the steps, into the house. I’m too shocked to move, catch my breath, process what had just happened.
Seb comes to the door, sees me and rushes over. “Are you okay? What happened? Jack said your house is on fire?”
My breathing evens as soon as his arms are locked around me. “Yes.” Is Dad safe?
“Are you hurt?” He holds me at an arm’s length to check for visible wounds.
“No.”
He pulls me tight against his chest again. “Tell me what happened.”
It isn’t a question; I can’t avoid it. So, I fill him in—on everything since our phone chat this afternoon.
Someone offers me a plastic cup of water.
My gaze swings up to Jess. “Thanks,” I mumble and accept it.
Sarah tugs her back a bit, onto the porch steps. “Give them some space.”
A fire truck roars down the street, and then makes a hard right, turning onto mine. My feet want to follow, as if they have a mind of their own, disconnected from the rest of my body. But I resist and sink to the ground, salt water welling in my eyes, blinding me.
“Hey.” Seb pokes me.
I ignore him.
“Look.” He wipes my eyes, forcing me to see, and then points over my shoulder.
Reluctantly, my eyes follow to the last shrub in the yard. At first, I see nothing out of the ordinary, nothing worth pointing out. Then I glimpse a white-tipped tail. Two black, pointy ears. Four white paws. Two yellow eyes, glowing in the light from the porch.
I jump up. “Lizzy!” I’m crying again, tears spurting from my eyes. I thought I’d never see her again.
She lets me pick her up, and I rock her in my arms. Seb smiles, goes to scratch the fur behind her ears. She hisses and tries to shred his hand.
“Nice cat.” Jess’ tone drips with sarcasm.
A minute later, a figure appears in the street, two houses down. Dad. How’d he know I’d come here? Or did his heart show him the way to me?
“Dad!” I’m caught between wanting to run to him and wanting to stay.
He sprints over. “Oh, Cassie, I’m glad you’re safe.” He goes to hug me, and then notices Lizzy in my arms. He settles on patting my back. “The good news is that they put the fire out. It didn’t spread, thankfully.”
I’m surprised. The gasoline didn’t catch? “The bad news?”
“None, really. We can go back in. There’s not that much damage, and the fire department has given us the all-clear.”
I didn’t really want to sleep there; whoever it was may come back.
Sarah pads over to us. “Why don’t you just grab some things and stay here?”
“Are you sure?” Dad says. Things between them are still fragile; this will be the ultimate test—can they move on?
“Yes.”
“Okay, then. Let’s go before it gets too late.”
“I’m coming with,” Seb says.
I have a feeling he isn’t going to let me out of his sight for a while.
Dad stares at him for the longest minute before sighing. “Okay, but tonight—”
“I sleep on the floor, I know, sir.”
We already agreed on sleeping arrangements—that Dad trusted me enough—but I let that slide for tonight. No use in having another fight right now when we’re all exhausted.
A worn smile spreads on my father’s features. “Let’s go home.”
***
The front door has been eaten by flames.
“This can’t be safe,” I say, stepping over shards of what used to be the hall table.
“Is there any indication left of who did this?” Seb lifts me over a chunk of wood.
Dad shakes his head. “But I know what. There’s this one—” His eyes dart to Seb, and then back to the mangled carpet in front of him. “One skinwalker that I’ve been pissing off. You can probably guess.”
He aims this at Seb, but I can form the answer, too.
Ash.
I toe a rock out of the way. “So we’re all in his warpath, I see.” I spot a bigger stone ahead. “What’s this?” I pick it up and turn it over. A note is taped to the back of it and a chill shimmies down my spine, bunkering in my toes. I pass it to Seb.
My father peers over his shoulder and reads the words aloud. “‘Watch. Wait. Listen.’ Christ, what have I gotten us into?”
I roll my eyes skywards. “Dad, I’m pretty sure this began with Seb. They mess with you, get to me, to hurt Seb.”
Seb’s mouth scrunches. “It could’ve been the other way around, Cass. I could be the pawn in this game, not you after all.”
He could be right. What better way is there to get to a Hunter than to hurt his daughter?
***
I open an eye. The sun seeps through Seb’s bedroom curtains. I close that eye. My fingers march across the bed, searching for him, where he always is.
But he’s not here.
Voices carry from elsewhere in the house. Laughter. I peel back the blankets and crack the door open an inch. Two males, one younger. Seb and Dad. Chitchatting over breakfast?
This is so weird. But I can get used to it.
I trade my pajamas for sweatpants and a tee, coaxing my frazzled hair into a ponytail. Then I creep out of his room, up the hall, and lean around the kitchen archway, staring at them, their laughter echoing through the Adler’s house. Seb is cooking. The aroma of blueberries, butter, and coffee tickle my nose. Dad’s reading the paper at the table. The rest of the house is quiet; the Adlers don’t seem to be home.
Seb swivels to say something else and sees me. His grin is brighter than magnesium burning. He’s found another place to call home, and I don’t think he can get any happier than this. But I could be wrong. We’re only young—there are many more thrilling and terrifying experiences ahead of us.
He drops the spatula on the counter and swings me into his arms, kissing me. “Good morning.”
“Eh, eh,” Dad says, “watch the PDAs.”
“There were no rules about that, Dad. And besides, this isn’t your house.”
“So? I’m still your father.”
Seb releases me.
“What’s for breakfast?” I hoist myself up onto the countertop.
“Pancakes.” He flips the one in the pan onto a plated stack.
“Yum.” I reach for one.
He slaps my hand away, smiling. “Wait your turn, honeybee.”
“How long?” My stomach snarls. We didn’t have dinner last night.
He pours more batter in. “One more.”
“Cool.”
“Would you mind making the syrup?”
“Making?” I’m used to squeezing it from a bottle. “Sure. What do I do?”
He curls a finger, waving me closer. I hop off the counter and stand next to him.
“Everything’s measured out. Just pop them in this saucepan.” He edges it closer to me. “And when it boils, keep stirring.”
I do as told, curiosity growing stronger with every ingredient I throw in. “Where did you learn this?”
His eyes meet mine, saddening as the moments tick by. “Mom taught me.” He forces a grin, and then hugs me again.
He must miss her so much. I know how he feels. But at least he can speak to and see his again. I don’t have that luxury.
The mixture bubbles. As I stir, I think of what I can do to reunite him and his mother. Surely, there’s a way where his father doesn’t have to find out.
Dad stands, refills his mug. “Smells good.” His face contorts for a beat. “You should cook breakfast for us when we get back into the house. That kitchen hasn’t smelt like this since Libby…”
Welcome to the house of damaged souls. Please accept this complimentary bag of goodies as an appreciation for your stay.
“Well, I hope they’re just as good.” Seb slides the last pancake onto the plate and sets it on the table. He then pours the syrup into a jug.
Dad slides two onto his plate. “I’m sure they are.” He drizzles some syrup over the top.
Seb pulls out my chair. I press a kiss to his cheek and sit. I catch Dad staring at us, a smile growing on his lips.
“Who would’ve thought my daughter and a creature I’m supposed to be hunting would make such an adorable couple?” he says.
His sincerity, his acceptance of us as a unit, shocks me. Who would’ve thought of Dad as a softie?
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing myself two pancakes. Everything’s gonna be all right. He and Seb are beginning to get along. I’m coping, even though my best friend is gone, my house nearly burned down, and we have psychotic Ash after us. I’m coping.
After I’ve had my fill of pancakes and coffee, I retreat to the bedroom and snitch a notepad from Seb’s side table. A pen as well. I flip to a blank page and stare at it, pressing the tip of the pen to the top line, trying to conjure up the words. Not just any words—they’ve got to be the right ones.
But I don’t know how to sum up all that is Eve, or how to express how much it hurts that she’s gone. I’m not a writer; I can’t command the words to appear.
I stare at that page for the longest time, salt water dripping off my chin because I—I can’t do it.
How do you write a eulogy for a friend you’ve known the majority of your life? I’m not sure it can be done.
I’m about to give up when he slides onto the bed next to me. I hadn’t heard him come in.
“What’s wrong, Cass?” He swipes a thumb under each of my eyes, and then glances at the notepad in my grasp. Catching on, he says, “Don’t worry about how it sounds right now—just write something.”
Easier said than done.
“You can fix it up later.”
Before he finishes, the pen is scratching across the paper and the words began to flow.
3:40 pm. The store’s quiet. I wait for a few minutes, to see if any customers come in. No one does. I slip into Chad’s office and dial home.
After a few rings, Mom answers. “Yá’át’é�
�h?”
“Hi,” I say.
“Hok’ee? How are you? Where are you?”
I can hear her sobbing. I take a deep breath. “I’m okay, Mom.” God, I miss the sound of her voice. I didn’t realize how much until now.
“When will you be home?”
“I don’t know, Ma. I’m not Dad’s favorite person right now.” I tap my fist against the desk, wanting to punch something. Ash, Dad, anyone that crosses my path.
“I don’t care,” she says. “Please. I’ll meet you anywhere, my son.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be.”
I clamp my eyes shut. I do.
“Where are you staying?”
I take another deep breath and hold it for a beat, steeling myself. “I have to go. Love you.” I slam the phone down and crumble into Chad’s swivel chair.
Cassie
At 3:50, Eloise sidles up to me. “You look beat. Why don’t you take your break?”
“I’m fine,” I say.
“Go on. It’s an order.”
“Okay.” I raise my hands in defeat. “I’m going.” I grab an apple-cinnamon muffin from the display case and trudge into the storeroom. I’ve thought up many ways to reunite Seb with his mom, but only one seems doable—call her. Get her to meet us somewhere.
I suck in a deep breath, and then dial the number I got from the phonebook.
After three rings, someone answers. There are four seconds of terrifying silence. Then, a soft, female voice says, “Yá’át’ééh?”
“Johona?” I say a silent prayer, thankful that her husband didn’t answer.
“Yes?”
“I’m a friend of Seb’s.” I want to say girlfriend, but I don’t want to shock her too much. I don’t know how much or little she knows.
She’s silent for another moment. Her breathing is heavy, as if her heart is pounding in her chest. “Cassie?” she whispers.
“Yes.”
“Call back in an hour.”
Got it. Her husband is home. “Oka—”
Beep, beep, beep. She’d hung up.
I replace my cell in my apron’s pocket and drag myself onto the counter. Have I done the right thing?
The hour passes slowly. Customers come and go. I deliver orders, top up coffees and sodas, and refill ketchup bottles. Forty-three minutes after the call, the pack—minus Seb, of course—enter. I don’t recognize two. Looks like they do have new members. Oh, joy.