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“I saw you talking to Micah’s dad before, but come and meet his mom and Asher’s parents,” he suggests, looping an arm through one of mine.
“Oh—no, Garrett, I need to speak with you,” Damaris says, so quickly she almost stumbles over the words. “Zac will introduce Cam to everyone.”
“I can introduce myse—” I begin, but she interrupts me.
“Micah will get you a drink. We’ll be having dinner soon, so just chat and enjoy. Zac will take care of you. Come, Garrett.” She turns away, clearly expecting her instructions to be followed, and Garrett bugs out his eyes at me before following. I feel like maybe he’s trying to convey some kind of message, but I’ve never been good at understanding signals like that. It’s hard enough to concentrate on what people are actually saying, much less try to read their minds.
“Come and meet everyone,” Zac says cheerfully. “I promise they only bite on Tuesdays.”
“Not Mondays?” I joke halfheartedly. “I’m sorry you got stuck with me.” And I really wish he was Micah. I like Zac, but he’s not Micah. Meeting strange people in a new place is something I really want Micah with me for.
“No, we’re good. I like your company. Say hi to my mom, Dalia. Mom, this is Cam Torrence, who’s going to solve the puzzle door and help us lure the community to this town.”
The genes in this family run strong. Zac’s mom looks like Damaris would have a few hundred years ago, but less… forbidding. Not that she’s soft and cuddly, but where I can believe Damaris might put a hit out on someone, Dalia would likely just key their car.
I hope.
“Hello, Cam.” She holds out her hand to me. “It’s great to meet you. We’re all very excited about the cave.”
Okay. This, I can talk about. “Not as much as me, probably. This is like all my dreams come true.”
She looks at me, her son, and then over our shoulders. I turn and catch a glimpse of Damaris watching us. “Not all your dreams, I hope.”
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Micah
Something weird is going on,and I’m not completely sure what it is. It has to do with Cam, though, and that’s getting my protective instincts all riled up.
Not that I think anyone here would hurt him—all signs point in the opposite direction. Grandmother’s beingtoowelcoming, if that’s possible.
I give my head a tiny shake. Too welcoming? That’s ridiculous. I’m overthinking this. Cam’s got me tied up in so many knots, I’m not seeing things clearly.
Except, Garrett keeps giving me these meaningful looks I don’t know how to interpret. He and Asher were whispering together earlier, and Asher’s been acting strange ever since. First he stared at everyone like he was trying to see what they were thinking, and now he’s muttering to himself and looking only at his plate.
“Have you spent much time in the Alps, Cam?” Grandmother asks. It must be the thirtieth question she’s directed at him since we sat down, and once again he lowers his fork to reply. At this rate, he’ll never get to finish his dinner. I wish I was sitting next to him so I could nudge him to be less polite and keep eating, but one of the weird things was Grandmother instructing us all on where to sit. She’s never done that before, but nobody was going to argue with her, so I’m across the table from Cam. Zac’s sitting beside him, and I wonder if I can text him to make Cam eat more.
“No, none. This is my first time here. Your view is incredible.”
Aunt Dalia clucks her tongue. It’s a sound I can’t remember her ever making before, and Zac shoots her a strange look. I’m not the only one who’s noticed people being weird. “That’s a travesty,” she declares. “So many people come all the way to Europe and never leave the cities.”
“Oh, I’ve never been to Europe before either,” Cam says casually, picking up his fork again. “I’m kind of a homebody.”
“You’ve never been to Europe at all?” Dad asks. “But you’re not that young.” The community of species has a higher rate of international travel than humans do. Partly because we live so much longer, but also because we tend to be less inclined to the kind of nationalism that leads to people proclaiming their home country “the best” and refusing to consider that other places have something to offer. Demons, of course, travel the most, but even those species that have to rely on mundane transportation like to get out and see new places.
“I’m a hundred and nineteen,” Cam volunteers. “So yeah, not that young. I planned to travel, but when it came to actually doing it, there was always something else that got prioritized.”
“A puzzle?” I smile a little, inviting him to share the joke, and he laughs.
“A puzzle,” he admits. “It was usually a puzzle. Once it was a bunch of them.”
“Well,” Grandmother interjects, “we’re glad a puzzle brought you here. Perhaps since you’ve finally made it to Europe, you should do some sightseeing while you’re here.”
“In winter?” Asher’s mom asks doubtfully. “Many of the tourist attractions are closed.”
Grandmother and Aunt Dalia glare at her so fiercely, it’s a wonder she doesn’t turn to ash. But my instincts are screaming at me now—and I’m guessing Zac’s too, since he gives me a confused look. I shrug. I have no idea what shenanigans are afoot.
“It’s awonderfultime to sightsee,” Aunt Dalia says through clenched teeth, and Cam scoots his chair back from the table an inch. It’s very easy to see Auntie’s resemblance to Grandmother at times like these. “There are no lines and no annoying tourists.”
