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Darknight(81)



“Seriously,” she’d said. “It’s part of the reason I decided cultural anthro would be a good major. I never get lost, like, ever. I could probably get dropped in the wilds of Peru somewhere and find the nearest highway and hike out, no problem.”

At the time, I’d reflected that it seemed as if everyone had a better talent than I did. I was even falling down in the ghost-talking department. Mary Mullen seemed to have taken a powder forever, as far as I could tell. Maybe all the headboard-thumping had driven her right on to the next plane of existence.

I swirled the stir stick in my chai, watching pale brown traceries appear in the foam. “Jessica would have to be in high school when Damon’s wife died, wouldn’t she?” I asked, attempting to do the math in my head.

“Yes,” Mason replied. “And seriously, I tried to tell her that crushing on someone that much older when she wasn’t even legal yet was gross, but she wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t even date anyone else, which was crazy, because she was always pretty and had so many guys who wanted to ask her out. But no, she said she knew in her heart that she was meant to be with Damon, and that was that.”

No wonder she’d latched on to him the second he’d decided to go trolling for a baby mama, since that whole plan for kidnapping me hadn’t worked out so well. “Then I guess there isn’t much anyone can do about it,” I said. “And whatever she was thinking in high school, she’s certainly an adult now, so I guess it’s none of our business.”

Carla frowned. “I suppose. But if we don’t talk about them, who will we talk about? Everyone else is so normal.”

Oh, if only my aunt were around to hear that pronouncement. She’d probably fall over in shock at the mere notion of referring to a Wilcox as “normal.” “Well, I have a question, actually,” I ventured, finally gathering the courage to ask about the thing that had been bothering me for weeks.

“Ooh, what?” Mason asked.

“What’s the deal with your cousin Marie? I swear, I’ve probably only exchanged twenty words with the woman, if that, but I keep getting the impression that she really doesn’t like me very much.” There, I’d said it. Marie’s vague hostility still puzzled me, but when I’d tried to broach the subject to Connor, he’d just told me I was imagining things. I still didn’t know Carla and Mason all that well, but one thing I did know was that they didn’t have much of a filter. If they were thinking something, they were basically saying it.

The two of them exchanged a glance. “Honestly?” Carla said after a brief pause. “I don’t really know. She’s never been all that friendly to anyone. I mean, she and Damon are sort of close, or as close as either one of them can be, since neither of them is exactly the friendly type, but I think that’s partly because he’s the primus and she’s our seer, so they have to work together on — well, on stuff,” she finished lamely.

It was pretty clear that she’d been thinking of my kidnapping and then realized that probably wasn’t the best example of “working together” to bring up around me. I decided to let it go. Done was done, and in the end, everything had turned out for the best. I was willing to forgive a lot when it came to my ending up with Connor.

“Yeah, maybe it’s because she is the seer, or because her mother was Navajo, but she never seemed to really be that friendly with anyone,” Mason added.

“Really?” I asked. That is, I’d noticed that Marie appeared to be far more obviously Native American than anyone else in the family, whose Navajo blood was many generations back, but I couldn’t quite figure out how that had worked. “Isn’t that sort of unusual? I mean, I just figured that the local Navajo didn’t have that great an opinion of the Wilcoxes — no offense,” I added quickly, as I saw the two girls exchange a glance.

“Oh, no worries,” Mason said. “That’s ancient history. And yeah, it did seem a little strange to us, but who knows what happened with Marie’s parents. Her father was my grandfather’s oldest brother, but he died before I was born. And her mother went back to live on the tribal lands after Cousin Marie graduated from high school, so I don’t think any of us ever even met her.”

“But Marie stayed?”

“Yeah,” Carla replied, swirling the foam on the top of her cafe latte.

“And she never got married or anything?”

“Not that we know of. I heard somewhere that she was engaged once, but it didn’t work out.”