He and my mother turned to each other for several seconds. Finally, it was Mom who answered me.
“It’s because you’re not supposed to exist.”
CHAPTER 14
“Not supposed to exist?”
“Forbidden, actually.”
“Technically, not even possible,” Dad added.
I was hoping this little Q&A session would shed some light onto the weirdness of the day. It had, but not in a way that I was hoping for. Instead, it was like I had fallen into a rabbit hole, only to discover it was a bottomless mineshaft. And I was still falling.
Regardless, there would be plenty of time to feel sorry for myself later. For now, my parents had promised me answers, and by God, I was going to get those answers. I swallowed the bitter pill of my dad telling his puppy pals that I was a demon rather than his daughter. “Explain, because so far, none of this is making any fucking sense.”
“Language,” Mom warned.
That did it. “You know, I’m thinking right now you have a choice: bad language or I start punching holes in walls. I’ll let you decide which you’d prefer.”
“Calm down, both of you,” Dad ordered. He turned to me. “I can understand why you’re upset, but at the time, it was the best I had to go on. Heck, it was the only thing I had to go on. You see, doppelgangers can emulate a person’s scent as well as their appearance, but only to a degree. It was the most believable thing I could come up with, the only thing keeping the entire pack from kicking down our door.”
“Because I’m forbidden?”
“Precisely.”
“Even though Melissa, and I’m assuming other werewolves, know damn well I’m your daughter?”
“It’s...” Dad trailed off. The look in his eyes told me that whatever he had to say was yet another bombshell. The way this day was going, I was beginning to feel more like a World War II bunker than a person.
“What?”
Mom glanced sidelong at my father then turned to me. “It’s because they think you’re adopted.”
“Why would they think I was adopted?”
“Because that’s what we told them.”
What?! All at once I was glad Chris wasn’t home. He’d have a field day with this one. Obviously he knew he was adopted. My parents had never tried to hide that fact. But I knew the little snot. This would have set him to cackling in that stupid way he had that made me want to punch his punk-ass lights out. “So ... am I?”
“Of course not,” Mom replied, “but we had to say you were.”
After I was silent for several moments, trying to comprehend the bizarre maze of words I was somehow expected to navigate, Dad finally found his tongue again.
“It’s like this, Tam Tam. Lycanthropes and mages ... don’t really get along. In fact, you could kind of say that we’re sworn enemies.”
“So I’ve heard. I’m assuming that’s why your side of the family doesn’t like Mom.”
“Amongst other reasons.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, and he quickly continued. “You have to understand, our two races have a deep-seated dislike of each other that goes back centuries, maybe longer. And with a rivalry that old, there’s a bit of arrogance on both sides.”
“Speak for yourself,” Mom said.
“Oh really?” he asked with a wry smile. “Is that a fact, oh Queen of the Monarchs?”
“Must we do this now, Curtis?”
“Hold on,” I said. “Queen of the Monarchs?”
“That’s your mother’s official title within her coven.”
“The queen of kings? How does that even make sense?”
Mom sighed. “Monarchs as in butterflies. It’s a hereditary title meant to signify my standing as a high priestess of our order, a supreme protector of nature and all of its secrets.”
I blinked back at her for a moment or two. “That’s ... a really stupid title.”
Dad let out a chuckle. “I’ve been telling her the same thing for twenty years.”
“Wait. You said it was hereditary. Does that make me the Swallowtail Princess?”
That set my dad to laughing, which really wasn’t my intent. I mean, I was still mad at him for telling his friends that I was an adopted demon. Nevertheless, I allowed myself a small grin. It helped cut the tension by a smidgeon or two.
Mom, for her part, didn’t seem overly amused. Her scowl served to remind me that I was letting myself get sidetracked from what sounded like a pretty big revelation.
“All right, enough of that. If you two are the great enemies you’re telling me you are, then how did ... this happen?” I indicated the two of them. “Did you guys find out this stuff after you met at college?”
My parents shared a glance before turning back toward me.
“About that,” Dad said. “That story of how we met is kind of ... not true.”
“What?” They’d been pummeling Chris and me with that sickeningly sweet story for years, ever since I could remember. I could practically recite every vomit-soaked moment. It was a mixer at my Mom’s sorority. Dad wasn’t going to go, but one of his friends was dating a member and pretty much dragged him there. She saw him standing off in a corner, thought he looked cute in a shy sort of way, and they hit it off from there. I mean, I always assumed that when they said mixer they meant kegger, but from the look on my parents’ faces, I got the impression the difference between that and the truth was a wee bit more than I expected.
“Yeah. We met under slightly different circumstances.”
“What your father means is that he was trying to kill me.”
“I was trying to scare you off. You were trespassing on our land. As alpha in training, it was my job to protect our territory.”
“I was conducting a complex ritual, and that glade happened to be perfect for it. Forgive me for saying so, but I got the sense that its significance was lost upon you ... except maybe for marking the trees.”
“Wait just a second. You were trying to kill each other?” I stared at both of them, but particularly at my father. Mom ... well, I could sort of see it, but the thought of Dad trying to purposely hurt anything was blowing my mind.
“Yes,” Mom replied. “Your father interrupted me in the middle of a ceremony.”
“You mean this father? The guy right here?”
“Of course.”
Dad apparently took the hint from my look of disbelief. “Back then, I was ... a different person.”
Mom nodded. “This all happened before I domesticated him.”
“In your dreams,” he said with a laugh.
“Anyway, I warned him off. He wouldn’t leave. So I decided to teach him a lesson.”
“Teach me a lesson? You were the one who was losing.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear.” Mom turned to me again. “Your father put up a good fight, dodging and weaving past my constructs, but it was only a matter of time.”
“I’m not following. How did you get from trying to kill each other to this?”
Dad looked away, a blush rising on his cheeks. Mom, however, kept talking as if none of this was a big deal. “I mistimed a spell as your father was charging my position. I missed, he plowed into me, and we both landed on the ground. We started rolling around. Both of us had our dander up from the battle and...”
“And?”
“And you were born nine months later.”
I sat there in stunned silence for several seconds, contemplating what had been said. I’d grown up hearing a sweet, if somewhat mundane, tale of how they’d met, only to learn the truth was more like some sick paranormal sex fantasy. “That’s ... horrible.”
“Quite far from it, actually,” Mom said, throwing a wink Dad’s way.
“Gross! I so didn’t need to know that.”
“Don’t pretend to be such a prude, Tamara,” she chided. “You and I both know you’re not so innocent, or need I remind you of Kevin last summer. Or that boy Jeff from...”
“How do you know
about them?”
“Oh please.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Did you really think today was the first time I’ve ever scryed you?”
Dad leaned forward. “Hold on. Kevin? How come I didn’t know about...”
Mom patted his arm. “Ignorance is bliss, dear.”
I ran my hands through my hair, totally skeeved out. It was like discovering a hidden camera in my bedroom, except one that could – and probably had – spy on me anywhere.
While I sat there, debating the best way to express my distress at all of this, the doorbell rang. At that point I’d have welcomed even the pushiest of Jehovah’s Witnesses, so I quickly stood up. “I’ll get it.”
I stepped into the foyer and pulled open the door before they could say anything else. I’d been expecting to see my brother, or maybe the mailman, but instead a different face greeted me, one no less familiar.
“Oh, hey, Uncle Craig,” I said, glad for the distraction.
It was the space of a split second for me to make two connections. One, he was my uncle on my father’s side and, two, while I’d seen him often growing up, it had always been at his place. I couldn’t recall him ever showing up at our home.
In that one small moment, barely a heartbeat of time, I saw his nose twitch and then I was sent flying back as he tackled me head-on, his teeth bared in a snarl.
CHAPTER 15
Oh yeah, he must be a werewolf, too.
The fact that I wasn’t screaming in terror told me that I was rapidly acclimating to the fact that my life had become akin to an episode of The Munsters. I couldn’t pretend to be happy with that, but for the moment, I had more pressing concerns.
Uncle Craig had never been an overly warm fellow. He wasn’t the type to shower me with hugs and kisses when I was a kid – something I always attributed to his man’s man persona – but he’d never been mean to me. And he’d certainly never wrapped his hands around my throat like he was doing now in our foyer.
Behind him, I saw he’d come with two companions: Dad’s cousin Mitch and someone else, a younger man I didn’t immediately recognize – some pudgy guy covered in, eww, warts. They stepped through the door and closed it behind them. I guess it wouldn’t do for the neighbors to watch as they murdered me.
My air was cut off as I vaguely registered that Uncle Craig’s arms were a lot furrier than I remembered. I realized, in a detached sort of way, that this was probably something I should seek to remedy lest my body begin to balk at the lack of oxygen flowing into it.
“Jesus, Craig! Get off of her!”
My uncle turned his head toward the family room. “Curtis? Thank goodness you’re all right.” After a beat, he added, “You too, Lissa.”
I saw my dad step in, but Mitch and Wart Boy cut him off.
“Stop it!”
“Has your nose gone soft?” Craig asked, his voice coming out more like a growl. “She’s the doppelganger.”
I used the distraction to slide my hands up between Craig’s and pry him off of me – no small feat. Damn, he was stronger than I was expecting, which wasn’t saying much since I hadn’t expected him to strangle me in the first place.
Before he could compensate and try squeezing my head off again, I let fly with a punch to his solar plexus. The resulting whoosh of air from his lungs gave me just the distraction I needed to refill mine. I shifted beneath him, preparing to throw him off before the rest of our uninvited company could join the party, but I was a moment too slow.
“Mhéara ar tintreach!”
All at once, the foyer lit up as sparks of electricity began to dance about, striking everything in reach. Several hit our uninvited guests, knocking them down and leaving them twitching.
I tried sitting up just as three of the miniature lightning bolts slammed into my chest. I expected to be thrown back, but instead felt nothing more painful than a minor static shock.
“That is enough!” Mom’s voice rang out, this time in English. “You are in my home, violating neutral territory, I might add. Talk fast before I incinerate the whole lot of you!”
“I’m fine, by the way,” I croaked, pulling myself to my feet.
Dad grabbed me and dragged me into the living room away from the others. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
“Peachy.”
“Get away from that thing, Curtis,” Craig snapped, shaking off the effects of whatever ... spell, I guess, Mom had just hit him with.
“It’s ... not what you think,” Dad replied, shuffling me behind him as if we were watching a movie and a sex scene had just come on.
“I said to get away from her,” my uncle repeated, stepping forward. “Or do you need a repeat of last night’s lesson?”
In a flash, Mom was in front of him. Though he loomed over her, she possessed the stance of one who wasn’t going to be so easily dismissed. “I will warn you once, and only once, that you are in grave danger of violating our treaty. The very fact that you stepped foot into High Moon...”
My uncle held out a hand behind him to stay his two companions, but at the same time didn’t appear ready to back down either. “Oh, really? I got word that four of my pack were killed earlier today at the Morganberg Diner. My people said the place reeked of gald. Care to explain?”
“Gald?” I asked.
“Magic,” Dad replied quietly.
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Mom explained smoothly, the lie flowing effortlessly from her lips. “Unlike some, I respect our boundaries. Oh, and speaking of which, I told you to explain yourself. Your presence here is in violation of our treaty and I would be more than within my rights to summarily execute you, alpha dog or not.”
Mom and my uncle, Dad’s younger brother, stared at each other for several seconds. Now that I thought back on things, it was rare that they’d ever been in the same room together and it was never at my uncle’s house in ... Morganberg, of course. It had always been at special events and only in public places – like birthday parties at Chuck E. Cheese’s. And the few times they’d been face to face, I’d gotten the distinct impression neither particularly cared for the other. Watching them now, it all began to add up.
Finally, Craig backed up a step and adopted a formal tone, albeit with a generous dollop of sarcasm thrown in. “Very well. As alpha of my pack, I beg your pardon, oh esteemed mistress of butterflies, for this intrusion. I call upon the contingencies laid forth in our treaty which allows such transgressions to be made in times of emergency.”
Mom glared at him for a moment, but then nodded and stepped aside.
“This is pack business,” he added.
“So long as it’s in my home, it’s my business too.”
Uncle Craig looked as if he was about to say something to that, but then he caught sight of me again. “Step away from it, Curt.” He turned to my mom. “That isn’t Tamara. It’s a doppelganger.” Then, back to my father. “I’m surprised you can’t smell it. That’s not like you.”
I waited impatiently behind my dad, swearing silently to God that if they didn’t drop the act and fess up, fists were going to start flying and I wouldn’t be overly concerned with whom they hit.
Mom turned and locked eyes with Dad, and it was as if an unspoken conversation passed between them. Heck, I had no idea what my mother could or couldn’t do. For all I knew there was a conversation going on. If they didn’t completely sell me out, I’d have to make it a point to ask her about that.
At last, Dad looked at my uncle and the two others he’d brought with him. He took a step to the side, revealing me, and my heart leapt into my throat.
No, Dad!
But then he put his hands on my shoulders and said, “I can smell just fine, Craig. There is no doppelganger. This is Tamara, the same girl you’ve seen at her baptism, birthdays, and holidays.”
Craig’s eyes narrowed. “That’s impossible. Take a good whiff of her.”
“Like I said, my nose is working fine.”
“But last night you told us...”
What happened the night before suddenly made sense. I’d thought my kick to the balls had driven him nuts or something. If what I was hearing was correct, then Uncle Craig was the pack leader and Dad had attacked him as a distraction so I could get away.
It also explained why he always seemed willing to take shit from his brother, despite being three years older. Craig was in charge. But hadn’t Dad just told me he’d been alpha in training?
Uncle Craig looked confused, a sentiment I could very much agree with. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said, echoing several of my thoughts.
“You’re telling me,” I commented beneath my breath, drawing a glare from Dad.
My uncle, either not hearing or choosing to ignore me, continued. “Are you trying to tell me you willfully adopted a demonic shifter?”
“She’s not a doppelganger,” Mom said.
“Nor is she adopted,” my father replied a scant second after.
Uncle Craig’s jaw dropped open. It was a confession apparently almost twenty years in the making, but I felt a small ping of love in my heart at hearing them say it nevertheless.
It was Mom who finally broke the impasse as she turned and walked toward the kitchen.
She stopped at the doorway. “I can see this is going to take a while, so I’m going to make some coffee. You take yours with bourbon right, Craig?”
He nodded.
“Think I’ll join you. In the meantime, try not to do anything that even remotely provokes me.”
♦ ♦ ♦
If I was hoping that Mom’s decree would lessen the tension in the room, I was mistaken. Uncle Craig, Mitch, and Warty, who I learned was actually named Jerry – possibly the least threatening werewolf name I could imagine – stayed where they were in the foyer right outside our living room.
For my part, I wasn’t quite ready to relax either, despite being exhausted enough to close my eyes for a good week. Problem was, I couldn’t be certain they’d ever open again if I dropped my guard around current company.
Get Bent! Page 11