“Is everything okay?” Holly glanced toward the hall to indicate the meeting I’d just concluded without actually mentioning it in front of Kaci. Her intent was sweet—protect the child from all mention of tragedy—but a bit ironic, considering that Kaci knew much more about my father’s death—not to mention his life—than she did.
“As okay as can be expected, considering.” I ran my hand down the length of Kaci’s braid, and she gave me a sad smile, accepting physical comfort on instinct, the strongest werecat impulse I’d seen in her yet.
“Good.” Holly poured two drops of mint extract from the lid of the bottle into the saucepan, then opened a five-pound bag of granulated sugar and picked up a measuring cup. “I was just asking the munchkin here about her family.”
Kaci went stiff, but Holly didn’t notice. I rubbed Kaci’s back, then started to step in for the official redirect, but Kaci beat me to it, her face caught somewhere between a scowl and a gloat. “She said we’re weird.”
Holly flushed instantly, and her eyes went wide. “I didn’t… That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” I tossed my head toward the hall and Holly frowned, then nodded and followed me with a promise to “Karli” that we’d be right back.
There was nothing Kaci liked to talk about less than the fact that she’d accidentally killed her mother and sister during her first, completely unexpected Shift. Kaci was what the experts were calling a “double recessive.” She was our miracle tabby, born to two human parents who had no idea they both carried the recessive werecat “gene.” Though it’s actually quite a bit more complicated than the simplistic phrasing I clung to.
Kaci’s human father assumed she’d died in the “animal attack” that killed his wife and older daughter in Canada, and he’d only recently given up the search for her body. But as far as I was concerned, Kaci got the worse end of the deal. She’d had no idea what was happening to her during her first Shift and she was forever haunted by the role she unintentionally played in her mother’s and sister’s deaths. And unlike her father, she could never achieve closure because while he could mourn her and eventually move on, she knew he was still alive, but out of reach. Because we couldn’t send a teenage Shifter back to live with a human father, even if she wouldn’t have had to explain her absence and her family’s deaths.
In the hall, I whispered. I knew perfectly well that Kaci could hear us, but Holly did not.
“She doesn’t like to talk about her family,” I began, glancing into the kitchen once, as if to make sure that Kaci wasn’t listening. “They died a few months ago, and we’re all she has left, so she’s with us for good now.”
“Oh, how horrible for her!” Holly whispered, pale brows drawing low on her lineless forehead. Then she cringed, as what she’d actually said sank in. “The death part, not the part about being with you guys.” She shook her head as if to reset her train of thought, while I stifled a smile. “Was it another accident?”
“Sort of. It was actually a bizarre animal attack.” The key to lying effectively is to stick as close to the truth as possible. I don’t like to lie, but when I have to do it, I want to get away with it.On the edge of my vision, I saw Kaci stiffen again, but again Holly missed it.
“You guys have had the worst run of luck! First Karli’s family, then Ethan, and now your dad… Fortunately, I don’t have anywhere to be for the next two weeks, so I’m completely at your disposal. Just tell me what I can do to help.”
I swallowed a groan of frustration and forced my lips into a halfhearted smile, trying to keep in mind that she had no idea she was making my job harder. Or even that I had a job. “Thanks. I’m gonna steal her away for a few minutes, but we’ll be back for hot chocolate.”
“Sure…” Holly went back to her cocoa and I gestured for Kaci to follow me to my room. Then I thought better of it and redirected us toward the office, which Marc and Jace had left empty. Holly didn’t have supernatural hearing, but I didn’t want to risk her overhearing anything, just in case.
I closed the door behind Kaci and we sat on opposite ends of the couch, facing each other with our feet tucked beneath us. “Thanks for keeping Holly occupied,” I began, suddenly wishing I already had that mug of cocoa. Or better yet, coffee.
“She seems to think she was babysitting me. Are you sure she’s not right?”
“I swear on my best pair of boots. I just needed an excuse to keep her out of the meeting. I have no intention of hiding anything from you.”
“Does that mean I get the boots if you’re lying?”
I raised both brows at her, hoping she was kidding. “They won’t fit you. And I’m not lying.”
“Good,” she said, and a tiny bit of the tension inside me eased. “I’d rather have my own boots, anyway.” She pulled her braid over one shoulder and fingered the end of it like the bristles of a paintbrush. “So…Owen says you’re the Alpha now. Does that mean you got smarter?”
I waited for some sign that she was kidding, but none came.
I sighed. “Unfortunately, no. And I’m not any older, faster, or scarier. Nor have I suddenly developed an increase in testosterone or a decrease in ovaries. In fact, just between you and me, I may be the least qualified Alpha in history.”
She thought about that, then frowned. “I don’t think so. I’ve met Calvin Malone, remember?”
“Thanks. It helps to know that, in the opinion of a thirteen-year-old, I’m better qualified than a complete megalomaniac.”
She frowned. “A mega what?”
“Never mind. I just meant that Malone’s a big, power-hungry nutjob.”
“No arguments there.”
“Mom, come on. It’s too cold for you to stay out here.” She’d spent most of the last day in the barn, trying to say goodbye to my father, and I was starting to worry about her physical health, as well as her emotional well-being.
“I’m not ready to go.” She wiped her red, dripping nose on a tissue already soaked with tears, but didn’t even look at me. “Not until it’s over. All of it.”
“Please, Mom.” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to stop my own shivering, but there was little point in even trying. The homemade, half-full grave at my feet was the cause of my chattering teeth and shaking limbs, rather than the cold.
Everyone else had already gone inside to mourn in quiet solitude or in somber groups. Except for Marc, Jace, Vic, and Parker, who had dug the grave, and were now refilling it in their funeral clothes, because changing into work clothes felt somehow disrespectful.
“I’m not ready, Faythe.” My mother looked up that time, and great beads of moisture clung to her bare lashes and cheeks. “I need…a little more…time.”
“Okay.” The only real difference between my mother’s mourning process and mine was that I had something important to distract me from the cold chasm growing within me with each glance at his grave, and she did not. I would lose myself in plans for the invasion of the Appalachian territory. I would focus on the burn of bloodlust in my veins rather than the agony of loss. I would pour every last drop of my pain and rage into the details, and the resulting carnage would be my father’s true memorial, infinitely more heartfelt than the headstone still on order.
Shovel in hand, Marc shot me a look of sympathy that melted into concern when he saw my face. Was it that obvious?
He stabbed his shovel into the soil hard enough to make it stand up on its own. I flinched at the raw thunk, then ground my teeth in irritation over my own squeamishness. That would have to go. If it wouldn’t help us beat Malone, it had no business in my head until he’d joined my father in the ground.
I took off my coat and draped it over my mother’s shoulders, on top of her own, as Marc veered toward me from the side of the grave. I met him several feet away from my mom.
“You okay?” He brushed his palms together and grave dirt fell from them. The tiny clumps hit the ground and seemed to echo within my head, much louder than should have been impossible.
“I’m fine. I just need to go iron out the last few details. I have to verify the time and the number of men my uncle’s bringing, then I need to leave for the airport.” I was taking Vic with me to recruit the thunderbirds, because I couldn’t justify taking both Marc and Jace away from the Pride when it was most in need of protection, but I couldn’t choose between them.
“Maybe you should take a couple of hours off. Try to relax. Help your mom.”
I shook my head slowly, trying not to stare at the ground and remember that my father was now in it. “She wants to be alone, and I don’t want to relax. I want to stay pissed off, so I can finish putting this thing together with a clear head.”
His frown deepened and he crossed dirty arms over the front of his dress shirt. “Anger gives you a clear head?”
I nodded. “It gives me clarity like twisting the focus knobs on a microscope.”
Marc blinked, and for an instant, I read confusion in his eyes. Or maybe something darker. The hair rose on the back of my neck, though I couldn’t have said precisely why.