“What do you mean?” Grim looks at the others.
“I mean, is it a ‘hey, I’m really your dad and I’ve come to collect you and take you back to the underworld, because some miscreant stole you from my loving arms’ kind of a story?” Please don’t let that be the case. If I find out I’m lusting after my dad, I might just hurl. That’s a little twisted, even for me. “Or is this a ‘you were supposed to be dead, and we’ve come to kill you’ kind of thing? I’d like to know before I decide what room to take you guys to.”
Calix blinks at me several times. “Are we sure this is the right time?” he eventually asks, but he’s not talking to me, he’s asking Gunnar and Grim.
“Don’t be a pussy,” Gunnar snaps, and takes a step in front of the group. His face softens a bit, reminding me of the man who woke up on my bedroom floor instead of the bossy jerk from the club.
“I told you to knock that off.” I waggle my finger at him.
“What?” He looks around. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Yes, you are, and you know it. Trying to be all cute and shit.” I cross my arms over my chest and give him a disgusted sneer.
Gunnar’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “I don’t even know what to do with that comment. I’ve never been accused of trying to becute.” He sounds completely baffled.
“Any room of your choosing will do fine, Damiana,” Grim supplies, ignoring Gunnar and his exasperation.
Calix nods his head. “This isn’t bad news, Damiana.” He looks to the others for confirmation, but no one else agrees with him.
“If I mess up my kitchen, I’m kicking your asses… I’ll...” I look at them, coming up short for threats.
“Yes, yes. Anything you’d like,” Grim agrees without me finishing. I give him the side-eye, but head down the hall toward the kitchen. I think I need some hot chocolate for this. And I’m not even going to offer them any. Ha!
“Ha, what?” Calix looks around like he missed the joke, and it’s then I realize I must have said part of my thoughts out loud.
“I’m not going to make you any hot cocoa.” I give him a sinister smile, as if it’s the most horrible harm he could suffer.
“Ooookaaaay.” He eyes me. “Is that code for something else?” he questions, not understanding what an amazing experience he’s about to miss.
“No, you’ve just never had my hot chocolate.” I strut into the kitchen, waving my hand at the bar stools lined up opposite the stove under the island. Funny how perfect all three of them look lined up there. Oh, how I do love a captive audience. I start to spin on my heel to grab my pot, but stop myself. I want to get them talking. In my experience, when I ask the hard questions, everyone suddenly has some other place they need to be.
“You guys are staying until all my questions are answered, right?” I regard the three of them.
“That could be a long—” Gunnar starts, but Calix reaches over and swats his arm.
“Yup, we’ll stay untilallthe questions are answered,” Calix offers instead.
“Unless one of us is called away,” Grim adds. “We each have duties where our presence may be required, but if that should happen, the others would stay.” Grim nods to the two other men.
“Agreed,” Calix and Gunnar both declare at once.
“Spooky. It’s almost as if you guys have done that before.” I pick up my wooden spoon and pot to get started.
It doesn’t take much focus to make the drink—I’ve done it countless times—but I wait until all I have to do is stir before urging them to begin.
“Who’s going to start talking?” Each of them takes turns looking at the others. “Well, someone has to. How about you?” I point my chocolate covered spoon at Gunnar, then at the other two. “They said you broke the covenant, or whatever, by showing up here.”
Gunnar makes a sour face and glares at Grim and Calix. “A long time ago—”
“When?” I demand interrupting him.
“About thirty-one years ago,” he supplies, not sounding very happy, “it was decided that we would be your guardians.” He opens his hands on the island like ta-da, that’s all there is to the story.
I continue stirring my hot cocoa. “First, why would I need guardians, and second, where the hell were you?” I shout the last part of the question, letting the spoon go; it continues on the circular path for a few moments then stops.
Other than the sound of my breathing, the room is silent. Grim licks his lips. “We also decided that we would be your guardians from afar,” he explains slowly, his voice just loud enough to be heard, as if he’s worried that he’s going to set me off.
“Which one of you assholes thought that was a good idea?” I accuse all three of them.
