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“He … We were dating in secret, and he tried to kill me when I told him we should break up.”
She stares at me in shock. My father gets to his feet.
“We need to call the police,” he says. “That bastard … He was in this house so many times …”
“It’s okay, Dad. He’s dead. My mates saved me.”
“Mates?” my mother asks, grimacing.
“I was going to die,” I tell them. “He was in the middle of sacrificing me to the Dark Lord when Adrian killed him and bit me to save my life.”
My mother looks like she could throw up. My dad is shocked, but he’s clearly happy that I’m not dead.That’s something. It’s not much, but it’s more than I expected.
“You’re a … Oh, Goddess, I can’t say it.”
“I’m a hybrid, Mom. A witch-wolf shifter.”
“Oh, praise Freya. Please let this be a joke.”
“Oh, shut up, Rita,” my father snaps. “This is our daughter. She’s telling us a warlock we trusted almost killed her. One of these young men saved her. We should be thankful.”
“I don’t want furry grandchildren,” my mom blurts. “Oh, Goddess. With their little claws they’ll wreck the furniture.”
Carter bursts out laughing. He covers his mouth when my mom stares at him.
“And this one has blue hair. Blue! Why? Are you in one of those grunge metal bands?”
“Um, no, ma’am,” Carter manages. “I just like the color.”
“He just likes the color …”
She’s having a total meltdown, but she isn’t disowning me.
She looks at Silas and baulks at his tattoos. “Do you have a motorcycle?”
“No,” Silas answers, glancing over at me.
“Oh thank goodness. I don’t want my daughter on a motorcycle.”
She looks at Adrian next, and she actually seems to approve, giving him a little nod.
“Okay,” she says. “Okay. I’m calm. I’m calm. I’m not calm. I’m allergic to animals, you know. That’s why I never got Rachel a dog when she kept asking for one.”
“Maria!” my dad calls out.
The woman who answered the door appears. “Yes, Mr. Ellison?”
“Would you please run Rita a bath? And take her upstairs. She has a headache.”
“Of course,” Maria says.
“I have a headache,” Mom says. “My daughter just gave me my first gray hairs.”
Dad shakes his head as the help takes Mom upstairs. “Her first gray hairs? She got those before Rachel was born. You know how she can be. It’s going to take a while for her to get used to this.”
“That’s okay,” I tell him. “We brought cake and fancy pop from the café.”
“It would be nice if you’d stay for a while,” he says. “I missed Christmas this year. It wasn’t the same here without you.”
