The Things We Water

“Are you mad?”

I peered down at the little boy clutching my hand tightly. The same little boy who hadn’t loosened his grip even a little bit from the moment he’d taken ahold of it over twenty minutes ago, all damp palm and slippery fingers, clinging so hard my hand hurt more than it already did from the scrapes and the tiny puncture wounds from clutching at the fallen log that had probably saved my life and Pascal’s. One day I’d go back and give it a hug.

“I’m not mad,” I assured Shiloh, squeezing his hand. It was taking everything I had not to let my teeth chatter.

There was a poke to my forehead a moment before the top half of a familiar head appeared in my vision. “Are you mad at me?” Pascal asked from his position perched on my shoulders again, where he’d been holding on to my ponytail like it was reins on a horse. He was basically a cold, heavy brick on top of me. He’d taken off most of his clothes, and I’d wrung them out as much as I could, same as I’d done to mine. The difference was, he seemed perfectly fine. His skin wasn’t even cold.

I was still shaking. My bones and skin literally hurt. Every muscle in my body was wound so tight, they felt on the verge of tearing.

But in a weird way, I felt more alive and more dead than I ever had before.

Not that I wanted to relive that incident again.

For now, my whole focus was centered on us making it to the golf cart, and the sooner I got us back to the clubhouse, the sooner everything would be fine.

Because what I needed more than anything at that moment, more than warm clothes, more than a hug, was a cry in the privacy of my shower. I didn’t want to traumatize any children more than I already had. We’d been a spectacle, and I was glad no one else had been around to witness it.

Shiloh and Pascal had wept all over me on the bank, and Duncan had done the puppy equivalent. He had let out these little “awoos” that had the potential to scar me for life. Agnes had managed to keep her tears in check, standing off to the side of us, her face tense. Her arms, on the other hand, had been crossed over her chest.

A violent shiver went through my whole body right then, and Pascal grabbed onto my ears to hold on better. When we’d realized he’d lost both shoes in the river, I’d been under the impression he would just change into his werewolf puppy form, but he said he was too tired. Then, I’d asked him if he wouldn’t prefer a piggyback ride on the way back to the UTV—because of his barefoot situation—and he’d hugged my head and said very earnestly, “No, thank you.”

I must have been a sucker because I didn’t insist on him not riding my shoulders. But I did grit my teeth when he pinched my right ear too tight. “No, I’m not mad at anyone.” Maybe I was a little, but I wouldn’t say it out loud to him after we’d all just gotten done practically wailing until I’d forced myself to be an adult and calm them down enough to figure out our next step. “I was just scared someone was going to get hurt.”

And worse.

“I’m mad,” Agnes threw in from where she was walking close to my other side. Her hand kept brushing my thigh, and I was trying so hard to pretend I didn’t notice just how purposeful it seemed. But I’d seen her face when I’d taken my clothes off to wring them out. Maybe she hadn’t made an actual peep, but there had been no hiding the emotion coming from her either. She’d been just as scared as the rest of us. “You’re dumb!”

“Who’s dumb?” Pascal asked, sounding offended and not like he’d been blubbering for his mom and dad minutes ago.

“You’re dumb. You and Shiloh,” the little girl accused.

“I’m not dumb. You’re dumb!” Pascal claimed, leaning over my head again so I had to reach up and grab his hips so he wouldn’t topple over and send us both headfirst into the ground. A concussion was the last thing I needed. And if we didn’t find the UTV soon, I was plucking him off my shoulders regardless of what he wanted. He was too dang heavy.

“I’m dumb?” Shiloh sounded more than a little hurt.

The universe was balancing out my perfect Duncan with these agents of chaos. It had to be. It’s what I deserved.

Almost like he knew I was thinking about him, a nudge had me glancing at Duncan trotting beside me. “Love you,” I told him as my calf cramped so hard, I wanted to stop and massage it, but if I bent over, I might not get back up.

“Love,” he told me in return, watching me carefully with those incredible, observant eyes.

Shiloh and Agnes froze at the same time Pascal tensed up on my shoulders.noveldrama

No. I couldn’t deal with this right now, I thought, as I paused right where we were, expecting the worst. If this was some magical being that liked eating people, I was going to scream. I wasn’t going to break something; I was going to⁠—

“You’re gonna be in sooooo much trouble,” Agnes cooed as something big crashed in the distance, getting louder and louder, closer and closer.

I couldn’t deal with another catastrophe right now. Please let this be help. Please don’t let this be a Mothman or whatever other cannibalistic asshole might be in this forest.

“Is it someone we know?” I asked, ready to lower the kids and hide them if I had to. It didn’t sound small. Or friendly.

But I sensed the wrecking ball of magic before anyone answered.

A flash of a coat appeared in the distance, and the sight and color of it relaxed me as much as my frozen body could handle. Massive, fluffy Henri was flying across the ground, his long strides eating up the distance. He looked like something out of a children’s fantasy book, all imposing and menacing and just… unreal.

But he was very real.

Because at that exact moment, on my shoulders, the boy shook. “I’m sorry, Henri!” Pascal shouted in a broken voice.

The black wolf slid to a stop a few feet away, head held high, his posture regal. His coat was so glossy I would’ve sworn he got regular baths. He was beautiful.

The air shimmered, and in the place where a colossal, black wolf had stood, there was now a man with the same color hair. A very pissed-looking man whose amber eyes slid from one child to another before finally landing on me. The muscle in his cheek popped.

I’d barely seen him since my talk with Franklin, and the times I had, had been through the window across from my room that faced the parking lot. He’d been working extra-long hours again, and when he wasn’t, from what Randall told me, he was dealing with ranch stuff. The same old story.

Matti had been right when he’d called him a principal.

Regardless, I liked to think Henri was giving me space to deal with the news Franklin had shared, but there might have been a chance he was still mad at me after our conversation with the Alaskan leader. Not that that conversation had even made all that much sense in the first place, but he hadn’t made the effort to bring it up again so chances were that maybe he’d seen my point. Maybe he was fine now with letting me keep Alaska as a backup option.

I didn’t let that possibility hurt my feelings. It was what I’d asked for. It was what I needed.

And he was here.

Glaring, but he was here.

Taking us all in while we looked like a million bucks.

There was a drowned rat on my shoulders, a protective puppy at my side, Shiloh looked like he’d been haunted by ghosts for a century, and Agnes was about ready to fight someone.

And I was more than likely a mix of all of them.

I kind of wished someone had a camera so I could remember this moment forever. Me and my band of magical menaces. I loved them.

Weakly, I smiled right as a shiver hit that had my whole body shaking, even my teeth chattered.

Henri’s cheek popped again. His nostrils flared, and I watched his throat bob. As much as he was trying to hide it, he was mad. “Is everyone fine?” he asked slowly, like he was chewing on glass with every syllable.

Two small heads nodded, and it felt like the one above mine more than likely did the same.

Amber irises locked on me, his eyes going a tiny bit squinty. “Are you?” His attention swept over my clingy, wet clothes briefly, nostrils flaring.

I nodded, not trusting my voice or my teeth to not give me away even more than they already had.

Bright eyes crept over all of us one more time, lingering on each person as that muscle in his cheek kept on flexing. It was clear he was pissed… but there was something else in his eyes. Worry?

“Where are you heading?” Henri asked after a loaded moment of silence, his focus lingering on the little boy who was doing his best impersonation of an opossum on my shoulders.

Here went nothing. “Looking for the UTV. I don’t remember where I left it,” I explained in my own funny voice—crying did that to vocal chords—only feeling a little sheepish I hadn’t left a trail behind that Hansel and Gretel could be proud of.

Lids a shade darker than the rest of his face dropped over those stunning eyes of his as the rest of us watched him, not sure what to expect. It wasn’t Henri holding out his arms though. “Come here, Pascal,” he ordered.

To give the little boy credit, he launched himself off my shoulders like it was an Olympic event and into waiting arms, only stepping on my chest a little bit. For all he was worried about being in trouble, here he was jumping ship the second he could. Henri easily settled him on his shoulders. He didn’t seem worried he was wet, but then again, he was a werewolf. He handled cold better than I ever would.

I sniffled.

“Let’s find the UTV and someone can tell me exactly what happened,” he informed us, still taking his time with his words.

Not that he could see it, but Pascal grimaced. Shiloh’s hand went even slicker somehow.

“What happened is that they’re dumb.” Agnes threw them under the bus.

If we ever got to the point in our friendship where I wanted us to get to, I was going to have to teach her about snitches. I was all for honesty and understood that it was pointless to lie to a werewolf, but she could’ve stayed quiet and given the boys a chance to confess first.

But she didn’t know that, and her claim set off a chain reaction.

I stayed out of it as the kids talked over one another, their story going backward and forward between getting to the river, falling into it, and walking. Someone said someone else cried. I was pretty sure Pascal shouted that we almost died. Not a single word left my mouth. Part of the reason was just because I liked hearing the kids bickering, and the other part was because I didn’t want to bring any attention to my shaking hands or the wobbliness that I was pretty sure would take over my throat if I gave it a chance. I didn’t fool myself into thinking that Henri couldn’t tell I was worked up—he would’ve smelled it way before he got to us.

And despite having the entire forest that could have been between us, Henri walked so close to me his knuckles kept brushing mine. I wanted to take his hand, but I didn’t. All my energy went toward trying not to wince or groan with how miserable I felt and how much soggy shoes sucked. Another shiver shot down my spine, so violent, my donut lifted his head to peer at me.

I gave him a grim smile and winked.

“Love,” he reminded me again.

“I see it!” Pascal hollered like he hadn’t just about had a meltdown recently, pointing in the process.

Sure enough, the camo-colored UTV was there. Henri set Pascal on the ground, and I dipped down to hug Duncan tight. His warm, gangly body made me feel instantly better.

“Grab the emergency blankets in the glove compartment and put one on, Pascal,” Henri instructed in a gruff tone.

The little boy turned and frowned. “But I’m not cold.”

Must be nice.

“I don’t care, put it on anyway,” Henri instructed, using his no-nonsense voice.

Pascal looked like he wanted to argue but did what he said. Quietly, the kids ran over to the UTV, and only then did Henri’s attention swivel to me again. His cheek was still doing that thing. But when he spoke, the words were for the kids. “One of you get a blanket for Nina.”

There was going to be zero argument at my end. I pressed my lips together and kept my chin up, thinking about what I was going to name the future children I was going to get from Pascal. Sticking to a “D” theme might be cute. Duncan, Derek, Desiree….

A hand landed on my lower back, and I flinched as it brought the cold, damp clothing into direct contact with my skin. Henri’s hand retreated almost immediately. I was pretty sure I heard him curse before he moved to stand in front of me. His Great Wolf face was on, and so was his tone. “You need to take off your clothes.”

There was something wrong with me when the first thought that came into my head was an inappropriate joke to make in front of the kids.

“I already… wru-wrung them… out,” I stuttered instead.

That bulge at his temple started throbbing at the same time as the lines on his face went tighter than they’d already been. “You’re freezing, and the seat’s too small for you to sit on my lap so I can warm you up,” he informed me, like he wasn’t insinuating he would’ve snuggled me half naked if he could slide the seat back on the UTV.

A part of me wanted to argue, or even joke around with him because I’d missed him the last few weeks, but I didn’t have it in me. I was barely holding on from the cold, the shock, my discomfort from whatever had hit me in the water, and that freaking fear that had dumped through my body and brain. I watched as the boys climbed into the back seat and was surprised when Agnes came around, dropped to her knees, and took my shoes off, one at a time. She didn’t even look at me as she climbed into the back seat with the other two when she was done. I wrestled my shorts down my legs one more time, struggling to get them off my ankles, and then pulled my shirt over my head, trembling the whole time.

A silver emergency blanket went around my shoulders before I stood up straight. A foot pawed at mine, and Duncan stood there, holding the package for another blanket in his mouth. But it was Henri who had wrapped the first blanket around me and him who reached to take the second one from my boy. He shook it open and tugged it around my hips like a tiny towel, those warm hands almost making me hiss when they came in contact with my exposed skin.

He looked at me, and I could barely say, “Why… is your eye… twitching?”

His mouth went about as flat as his voice did. “Get into the UTV.”

So, somebody was still mad.

“Then, we’re going to drive back, and after that, you and I are going to have a conversation about why my eye is twitching, Cricket.”

I blinked, and he blinked.

All right then. I climbed into the front bench. Henri though leaned over and reached for the seat belt, clicking it into place for me, his warm fingers brushing the sliver of skin exposed between the blanket on my shoulders and the one around my waist.

It hit me for the second time at that moment.

I’d been this freaking close to never seeing his face again.

And I almost told him that, but instead, I whispered, “You could’ve just let me borrow your shirt, you know.”

His nostrils flared, his body jerking unexpectedly, and the hand that had lingered on my hip came up, and he tapped me under the chin. “Brat,” he whispered back, his jaw clenched so hard while he did it.

I gave him a tight smile as another shiver made me shake.

He frowned. Henri pulled back and started issuing orders to the kids, checking them in the back seat, before circling around to pick up my bundle of clothes and finally ending up in the front of the UTV to get behind the wheel. Duncan jumped between my feet and braced himself there as Henri turned on the off-road vehicle and got it going.

No one said a word the entire ride back to the clubhouse. No one even breathed loud, and if they did, I couldn’t hear them over how bad my teeth were chattering. I wanted to tell Henri he should call Phoebe and let her know the kids were fine, but my jaw felt too tight. My tongue lazy.

I’d really gotten the shit scared out of me.

I had been scared when those people had tried to hurt me to get to Duncan, but I’d known in my gut that I’d be fine. I had been able to control not just my destiny but theirs too. There was safety in that.

The river though? There was no amount of my magic that could have saved me or them from it. I’d known exactly what I was risking.

Everything.

And I would do it again if I had to, but please no.

No one was waiting for us when we got back to the clubhouse. My legs shook as I got out and put my wet shoes back on, while Henri helped and then carried barefoot Pascal. His expression went troubled as his eyes landed on me standing there in two tiny blankets that covered me as much as some of my swim coverups did. Agnes was holding my clothes in her arms, and Duncan leaned against my bare lower leg in a way that felt like he was guarding me.

Henri tilted his attention up to the sky, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat once. Just once. He had a beautiful throat.

Pressing his lips together hard enough that I could see the white line form between them, he dropped his gaze back down and pinned me with it.

“I’ll carry you to your room,” Henri called out, sounding dead serious.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to stop another shiver from working its way down my spine. I shook my head. “You need to deal with them first, Fluff.” But that sounded nice; I would’ve loved it in another universe. A hug would’ve been great, but… the rat-werewolf boy was a mess, Shiloh looked on the verge of crying again any second, and Agnes was… she was breathing hard beside me. I didn’t know what that was about, but I’d deal with it when I wasn’t out here in my underwear. “Want me to stick around?” I offered the man I wanted to believe was still my friend.

He did that frowl thing—a half frown, half scowl—even as he just about glared at the two kids who were about to be grounded for the rest of their lives. One of them was stuck to his legs like glue, and the other had already wrapped his arms around his neck like he was much younger than he was.

We both knew I was right.

But he still hesitated. I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching even at this distance. “Nina.” His voice was all crushed velvet, his expression so pinched, so raw… I didn’t know how to describe it. It couldn’t have been anguished.

Could it?

The shrill ring of his cell phone erupted the way it always seemed to, at the worst moment, and Henri grimaced toward his hip before pulling it out of his pocket with his free hand. Whatever was on the screen made him close his eyes, made him sigh. His forehead was furrowed when he lifted his head again.

Murder Henri was in the process of reactivating.

And it was my job to reel him back in.

“It’s okay, Fluff.” I wanted to make him feel better when he seemed so torn standing there. “I can make it to my room.”

My comment didn’t help.

But he lifted his chin, his mouth a flat, harsh slash across his face that told me Murder Henri still lurked somewhere in his body, but he was trying his best to wrangle him in. “Go shower. I’ll come for you the second I get them to their parents,” Henri told me through clenched teeth.

Was there something else he wanted to say?

I didn’t know, but I lifted my hand, trying to tell him it was okay. They were kids. And they’d had the shit scared out of them even more than I had.

“I’m glad you two are okay,” I told the boys simply before turning and moving toward the clubhouse as fast as my stiff legs would let me.

Agnes’s fingers grazed my thigh so lightly while we walked, her touch resembled a feather. I had to fight to keep a neutral expression; too much and I would scare her off… but I couldn’t help myself. I touched the top of her head for the same amount of time she’d touched me. Just a second.

I’d only taken two steps when a hand cupped my hip and turned me all the way around.

It was Henri.

Henri who used his other hand to palm the back of my head, tilting my face up. His head dipped. His mouth and nose right there, inches, inches, from mine.

“What is it?” I croaked, surprised. “What’s that look on your face for?” I raised my hand, ignoring the scrapes and tiny puncture wounds from the tree that peppered my palm, and pinched his chin. “Fluff, the kids are fine. If I was going to die from hypothermia, I would’ve already,” I tried to assure him with a slight smile… that melted off at the fire that rose up in his eyes at my comment.

His hand took mine, and he drew it away, staring down at my injured palm. A knot formed between those dark eyebrows. Henri’s chest rose with a single deep breath, a moving wall in front of my eyes, before he exhaled, roughly.

I was going to die of shock, I figured out right then, when his mouth pressed against my palm. “If they were anyone else”—Henri lifted his eyes, his lips grazing the broken skin of my hand—“I’d be following you back right now.”

Every part of my body seized up.

“Tell me you understand.” It almost sounded like he pleaded.

Something happened in my chest. Right in the middle. Right in the center where my heart was. And I found myself nodding, giving him a smile that probably looked near death but was more overwhelmed than anything.

Because I finally understood that we had scared the shit out of him.

This man I felt so much for, who I knew I needed to feel less for, closed his eyes for a second before he opened them again. He pressed his lips to my palm for the second time in the sweetest kiss I’d ever experienced, and it wasn’t even on my mouth. “Go get warm. I’ll find you as soon as I can,” he seemed to promise in a harsh whisper.

I nodded more out of reflex than anything.

A hand on my thigh brought me back to the girl who had touched me, her head ticking toward the clubhouse in a reminder of what I needed to do, and I gave her a weak smile of agreement as I took a step away from Henri.

From the frown he gave me, he didn’t seem to like that very much but….

When the three of us were halfway to the clubhouse’s back door, I stopped and peeked over my shoulder.

Henri was where we’d left him, watching us, with Shiloh and Pascal whispering to each other behind him.

I tried to give him a little smile, but it felt hollow.

By the time I made it to the building where we lived, Agnes was holding the door open for me.

No matter how stoic she came across, she’d gotten the shit scared out of her too. My mini wolf. But before I could say more than “thank you” after I went through the doorway, she asked in that high voice that was young and old at the same time, “Why’d you do that, Nina?”

I slowed down until she was beside me. “Do what?” I asked her.

“Save them. They’re not yours.” The way those sentences came out of her mouth was so matter of fact, they might have broken my heart if it wasn’t half-frozen.

I didn’t touch her often, but I couldn’t help but nudge her shoulder. Her eyebrows were almost touching from how hard her face was. I smiled at her, one that wasn’t bitter or confused, just as we made it to the end of the hall and turned right. “They’re all mine, Agnes.”

Duncan glanced at us, and I winked at him.

But of all the things Agnes could have replied with, what she actually did say would’ve been on another page, in a different book altogether. I wasn’t even sure she did it willingly when her eyes went slightly wider afterward. She asked it though, and there was no taking it back.

“Me too?” came out of her mouth.

It was so innocent, so curious….

I almost freaking melted. My mouth and the rest of my body were on top of it though. I nudged her again, smiling wider than I would’ve expected I had in me considering the day, and said, “Of course you too, Mini Wolf.”

There was no way I could ever go to Alaska now.I’d have a polygamous relationship with every gnome to stay here. I wasn’t going to be one more person to disappoint this child, I promised the universe at that exact moment.

And my thoughts were repaid a moment later when the little girl stopped when we got to the staircase to go upstairs and an arm wrapped itself around my thigh.

She might as well have hugged my heart.

And in a rush, she whispered what sure sounded like a deep, dark, dirty secret. “I was really scared.”

I didn’t want to touch her too much and send her scrambling away, but I set my palm on the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Agnes,” I told her, imagining how deep she’d had to dig to admit that out loud. And because she could, so could I. “I was too,” I told her. “It’s a crappy feeling.”

“Yeah, it’s shitty,” she agreed.

I stared down at her head. I wasn’t going to be the one to say anything; hadn’t I been meaning to talk to her about snitches? Instead, I pet her head while I made eye contact with the bright red eyes watching us intently from the first step on the stairs.

“Love,” he told me, and I blew him a kiss.

I waited until the arm around my thigh loosened and Agnes had taken a step away from me before I moved. She didn’t make eye contact again, but when she started walking, so did I. We went up the stairs together and into the bedroom. I crouched after I closed the door and gave Duncan another hug while Agnes dropped my wet clothes into my laundry hamper.

“You okay, Donut?” I asked him, stroking along his spine and then one of his front legs, noticing how much longer it was now. He was growing up so fast.

Those big ruby eyes took their time staring at me before he answered, “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

My puppy took two steps forward, his head proudly back, those propeller-like ears hanging low, not so close to the floor anymore either. And my emotionally mature puppy, who had been very concerned earlier, answered the same. “Yes. Love.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, and he put his paw on my foot, staring right at me the whole time.

“Fine.” I smiled again, sneaking down to press my cheek to the top of his head. “Tell me if you’re not,” I said into his ear.

Duncan lifted his paw and set it back on the top of my foot. “Yes.”

Agnes was already on the edge of the bed when I stood up, reaching for the remote. Kids were so resilient, and someone had to protect that. That someone being me.

That had never felt as obvious before as it did in that moment.

But I could think about that later, when I wasn’t feeling cold down to my bones. At my dresser, I pulled out clothes, settling on sweatpants that would have been way too warm under normal circumstances and a toasty sweater, along with clean underwear and fuzzy socks. Duncan jumped on the bed while I did that, scrambling up to his favorite spot on the end while Agnes turned on the television, her back propped by pillows and the headboard.

“I’m going to shower,” I told them, even though it was obvious. That might be a magical river I’d been forced to take a dip in, but wildlife didn’t get the memo not to take a pee or go number 2 in it, so….

A nod and a “yes” answered me, and I ducked inside the small bathroom.

I made it as far as rinsing the shampoo out of my hair before my eyes got watery, and it wasn’t because I got soap in them.

I hadn’t been exaggerating when I’d told Agnes I had been scared.

Some part of my brain recognized that nothing had actually happened, but it hit me hard how much I had to lose.

And that was so freaking much.

Not once had I ever consciously taken my life and everything in it for granted, but it had never truly hit me just how easily I could lose all the precious things I valued the most.

Duncan, my parents, my best friends, my life, the other kids.

I had so many questions I still wanted to ask Franklin.

And then there was Henri, whose every action made it seem like he cared about me, even if he wasn’t doing anything about it.

I wanted him to do something about it, dang it.

When the water finally washed away my tears, ones that fortunately didn’t come from my soul but from my brain, I let out a long, long sigh and finished my shower.

Once I was dressed, with the towel wrapped around my hair, I checked my face in the mirror. My eyes were red, a little puffy, but they had to have been that way since our Sob Fest at the river. If I looked half as bad as Shiloh and Pascal had, then there was nothing to be done about it. How bad were they going to get in trouble this time?

Agnes and Duncan were both asleep when I opened the door. My donut was on his side, and Agnes was on hers too, curled into a little ball. I had just taken a picture of them when a soft knock came at the door. Neither of the kids lifted their heads, and I crept over, pushing my senses out and not picking anything up.

There was only one person it could be.

Franklin stood in the hall, his arms loosely at his sides. Today he had on a baby blue button-down shirt tucked into khaki pants with a brown belt. He backed up as I closed the door behind me.

“The kids are napping,” I explained, crossing my arms over my chest to preserve my warmth. “Did you need something?”

The man, who seemed younger every time I saw him, shifted his weight around. I wouldn’t go as far as to say he’d been avoiding me—I didn’t think someone who had to be thousands of years old would do that—but he had definitely been scarce since the day he’d dropped one truth after another on me. I really wasn’t upset with him, specifically. How could I be when he’d seemed so sincere in his anger toward his brother for keeping me a secret? For trying to be kind when he’d repeated what he’d learned?

I couldn’t.

But it was still a lot to take in, and he had kept things a secret.

Like I wouldn’t have done the same, but I could be a hypocrite and ignore that.

“I know that you’re upset with me,” my biological uncle started almost somberly. “I’m also aware I have no right to scold you⁠—”

“Scold me?” I cut him off.

Franklin nodded, his old and young features strained. “Yes. Scold you. But I blame myself, and your… donors… so I’ll refrain.”

“What exactly did I do?” I asked, rubbing up and down my arms, still so cold.

“My child, despite your parentage, you are not immortal,” he chided me, giving me a stern look that made me think of my mom. “You aren’t long-lived either. Only those of us who were around during the fall of the Great Meteor are. Magic isn’t kind enough to give our children long lives for whatever reason. And contrary to whatever you may have heard, we do not have 9 lives. If you were to drown, you were to drown. Your magic is death, not reanimation.”

I blinked at him.

Just when I thought Agnes’s and Henri’s behaviors were going to be the most stunning part of my day, here went freaking Franklin. “I had a feeling, but thank you for confirming that?” I muttered, not sure how to respond to him. He sounded so… aggravated.

Then he continued giving me that no-nonsense expression that was one I’d gotten dozens of times from my mom. “Your donors might not deserve anything from you, and I respect and understand that, but I didn’t make or agree with their choices.” He paused. “You’ve just come into my life. I would like to get to know you, Nina, but I can’t do that if you put your life at risk.”

This ancient man had been worried about me?

“I couldn’t let anything happen to the kids,” I replied, carefully.

Franklin looked at me for a long while before sighing, his body almost deflating a little. “You must get that from your parents, because you don’t get that from my side.”

“I’m sure I do. My parents are wonderful,” I agreed.

Neither one of us said anything. He watched me, and I watched him, trying to find signs in him that might show some kind of physical connection. My skin had more brown in it, and my nose was a little sharper than his. If my guess was correct, my hair was darker.

I couldn’t see the resemblance strongly.

Our eye colors were kind of similar, if I had to pick something.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” he rushed out. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to have a relationship with me, but it would bring me great joy.” His hand went to his opposite wrist, where he usually wore his bracelets, and he rubbed at them absently over his shirt. “It would mean quite a bit to me,” he added quietly. Even hopefully?

I was too easy. “I understand why you didn’t say anything until you knew for sure, but I don’t get why you waited to tell me, Franklin. It had been weeks since you got back.”

The older man made a face that seemed regretful—not a whole lot, but some. I could give him the benefit of the doubt. “I was worried that once you knew, you might leave. When you mentioned your parents when you first arrived, how you didn’t know them, there was clear detachment on your face.” He rubbed his hands together. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you. At my age, you would think I would know everything, but that’s not the case.” He huffed.

“I was angry thinking that they didn’t give a crap. My biological parents,” I told him. “But I don’t care about either of them enough to be resentful.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “That resentful.”

He nodded.

“And I do have a lot of questions, not about them, but in general… Uncle Frankie.” I looked him dead in the eye for a second before smiling a little.

The older man’s mouth pinched.

“Or is Uncle H-y-p-n-o-s better?” I whispered.

He ticked his head to the side, this funny, relaxed expression coming over his face that I’d never seen before. “I prefer we kept the latter between us. An old man needs to have some secrets.” Something powerful moved in his eyes. “It would be an honor to acknowledge you as my niece when you’re ready. That’s not something I’m unwilling to share.”

For the third time, my eyes watered, and I nodded. “That would be nice.” I hesitated. “Maybe in the future?”

The way his eyes lit up would stay with me for a long time.

“Will you tell me one day how old you really are? Or tell me about the meteor and how that happened?” I asked.

The elder took a step forward and held out his hand, palm up. An olive branch if I’d ever seen one. A step forward too, in a way.

It felt like I was accepting something. All the parts of me I hadn’t known what to do with, maybe? The parts I had struggled with for half of my life.

I was telling myself, telling the world eventually, that I was this man’s biological niece.

That I was descended from the night—his mother.

That his brother’s death blood ran through my veins—my DNA dad.

That my uncle was an old god of sleep trying to parade through this time in his life under wraps.

I didn’t know without a doubt if this “Isha” was who I thought she was or not, but that part didn’t matter so much.

Not then.

If I wanted Duncan to accept who he was when the time came, how could I not be an example for him?

We could defy the paths that choices others made set up for us.

I could take this man’s hand, or I could shun it all.

There was really only one choice.

I took Franklin’s hand, noting how it felt like every other hand I’d touched, except maybe a little more calloused.

My… uncle’s gaze was steady on me as he said, “There isn’t much I would enjoy more.”