“So you knew my birth mother,” I say. It’s not a question but it’s the only way I know how to get the ball rolling.
“Yes,” he replies curtly. Ok, this is going to be like pulling teeth. I make myself comfortable and plop down in the chair across from his desk.
“Did you know what she was? Right away?”
“No, not right away. As your mother, I mean Donna, and I became more serious, it was brought to my attention.” Chris drums his fingers against the arm of his chair anxiously.
“And how did you feel about that?”
Chris pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, contemplating the answer. Then he rubs his weary eyes. I brace myself for the worst; he must’ve hated being coerced into all this.
“How did I feel?” He looks up at the ceiling and then returns his earnest gaze to me. “Your birth mother gave me the opportunity to meet the love of my life. And then furthermore, I was given the honor to love and protect the most beautiful, curly-haired little baby girl I had ever seen.” His solemn expression morphs into a heartwarming smile and my apprehension melts away.
My new knowledge of my birth mother must be incredibly hard for them. Maybe they’re afraid of losing my love. And with the discovery of a birth mom, comes the discovery of a birth dad. In all my confusion, I had hardly considered their feelings. They must be just as scared as I am.
Instead of launching into the interrogation I had rehearsed in my head, I get up and walk over to Chris and wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, giving him a heartfelt squeeze. He’s been my dad my whole life and I honestly could not imagine anyone else replacing him, blood or not. I can feel him instantly relax and before either one of us becomes emotional, I release him from my embrace.
“Goodnight, Dad,” I grin. He answers with a smile of his own and I turn on my heel as I notice his watery brown eyes. I’m not emotionally strong enough to see him unraveled.
I retreat to my disheveled bedroom and flop noisily on my bed, exhaling the day’s events. Donna’s Wiccan revelation, Dorian showing up at my job, having drinks with him after work, the eerie parking lot phantom… it’s been a helluva day. That was no crazed homeless person in the bushes outside the department store. Whatever it was moved in a way unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It was ghostlike. Alien, even. The thought chills me to my core and I shiver uncontrollably. Seeking comfort, I look at my mother’s book, resting on my nightstand. Surely whatever attempting to accost me tonight would be something she would know about.
Before I can flip to that page where I left off, my cell phone perks to life, indicating a text message.
Unknown, 11:46 PM
-Are you ok?
I usually ignore all unknown phone calls but an unknown text? Who would have my cell phone number? I know I haven’t given it out lately. I think about hitting Delete but my curiosity gets the best of me.
-Who is this?
-Dorian.
Damn. Amazing how one name can hold so much weight and instantly make my heart jump into my throat. A big, goofy ass grin spreads across my face. Wait, how did he get my number? Stalker alert! Maybe Jared is right. Maybe Dorian really is a creeper. A ridiculously sexy, alluring, gorgeous creeper that I wouldn’t mind being accosted by in a dark alley.
-Yes, why? How did you get my number?
-That is not important. You are safe?
Okay, now he’s freaking me out. Why would he think otherwise? He was long gone by the time that freaky apparition-like figure came out of the bushes. Right? I quickly text “I’m good” and plug my phone up to its charger, putting it on silent.
As much as I’d like to chat with Dorian, I can’t shake the unnerving feeling that something is wrong. Whatever was out there tonight was out to get me, I’m sure of it. Not only that, there was something strangely familiar about it, though it was obviously otherworldly. Why didn’t I ever notice these things before? Never in my 20 years have I ever seen something nearly glide across a parking lot, not to mention with such incredible speed. It was mostly blurred, though I could visibly make out its eyes. Deep, vacant, icy eyes, fixed on me with violent intensity.
I shudder and pick up the book, finding where I left off the night before. I indulge myself in Natalia’s account of her days living underground, preparing herself for her encounter with the Shadow. She was smart; it was two against one and she knew they’d have a chance to overpower her. Her plan was to have them come to her, on her grounds. No one knew the forests better than the Light, especially Dark Hunters. The Shadow would be disoriented, sitting ducks for her to take out at will. I was enraptured in her account and couldn’t wait for her to strike, putting a permanent end to her vile pursuers. My mom: bad ass, strong and cunning. She was the epitome of everything that I’ve ever wanted to be.