Chapter Five #2
She sat up and smiled sleepily. Echel inhaled sharply and stroked her cheek. “Hey, Emhara. Time to communicate.”
She nodded and gave him a thumbs-up. “Hey, Father.”
“Why don’t you call me Dad like Mateo does?”
“Oh, your wife would slap me across the face when I did, so I stopped. Father is appropriate, but she still made a face when I said it.”
“But, you called me Dad until you were four... oh no.”
“I am thick-skinned. A normal slap doesn’t show up right away. Even when I was three. From what I remember, I tried to sneak it in when she wasn’t there, but then she insisted that I help her in the kitchen after that.”
“But, she doesn’t cook.”
“I know.” She smiled. “Was that the only question?”
“No. I got you some art supplies.”
She shot out of Echel’s lap and looked around. “Where?”
He pointed toward a dining room table, and she grinned. “Thank you, Father.”
He laughed softly as she grabbed the sketchpad and used her teeth to score the plastic around the charcoal and coloured pencils. She asked as she got ready, “What should I draw?”
Her father smiled. “Why not a portrait of me?”
She paused. “You know how I see you.”
“Yes. I have always been curious. He has no interest in mirrors.”
She nodded and said, “Can you get me more charcoal? You are really dark.”
She glanced at him, flipped to a clear page, and got to work.
* * * *
Samsor watched Emhara as she chortled and rubbed as she created a tarantula wearing a suit that had amazing realism. “How did you know?”
“I had some of my men enter her pack house. There were no materials for her to draw or sketch, and that used to be how she processed the world. They only allowed her to do bookwork online. No creative outlet at all.”
She spoke as she was muttering and rubbing at the paper. “I drew Augusta in the pack, and I used their greedy faces. They didn’t like it, so they didn’t let me draw again under their roof.”
The image was coming together with surprising speed, and it was terrifying.
She chuckled and said, “Father is easy. He’s just black and brown with dark blue accents. All of his eyes are super shiny, though. The mandibles are hard, but they are so fuzzy.”
She kept working and humming, getting charcoal all over her hands, forearms, and palms. The longer sleeves on her dress were getting the worst of it.
Samsor asked softly, “She’s an artist?”
Her father nodded. “It manifested when she reached for her first crayon, and it never stopped.”
“Why did you stop visiting her?”
“She stopped coming when Mateo turned eighteen. There were things he needed to learn, and she was in the way. I always thought I would see her at the next event, but there was never a next event, and then she disappeared into that pack.”
She laughed and finished with a flourish. “There. Father, this is your portrait.”
She turned and held up a terrifying image. The thick head of a tarantula with gleaming fangs and mandibles, standing in a designer suit, his hands gripping clamps, and more limbs sprang from his back and leaned forward, ready to capture prey.
She had managed to make it realistic, and that was an impressive feat in the time she had spent. She was holding the portrait of her father, and he stared. “This is how you see me?”
“Yup. In my head, I sometimes put a bow in your guard hairs when I think about it.” She bit her lip. “Do you want it? If not, I can scrap it and draw something else.”
He took the portrait from her and smiled. “I have never looked into his eyes before.”
She nodded.
“You see this when you look at me?”
“If I squint, I can see the people you. But this comes in first. Finding the alpha in you is much more difficult.”
He looked at the image and then said, “What is Mateo like?”
“Harder, leaner. His body has a hard, smooth coating. His eyes go more up and out. Why?”
He held up the picture. “I am going to show him this and see if he wants any of his pack drawn for family portraits. I will pay you accordingly.”
“I charge more than three marshmallows per picture now.”
Her father chuckled. “Good. Now, Emhara, go wash up.”
She smiled and walked toward the restroom.
Samsor looked at the image. “Your beast?”
“Yes. I have not seen it like that. The suit is a nice touch.”
“Yes. She hugs you knowing that you look like that.”
“I... yes.” He looked at Samsor with wonder.
“She is far braver than I ever guessed. She wasn’t intended, but then her mother produced her and her lineage was confirmed.
Emhara was mine. My mother named her. Her mother had refused to name her, so she was named at six months old.
I have copies of all her birth documents if you need them. ”
“I will let Duran know that they are available.” He paused. “Do you have any of the trust copies?”
“Certainly. My mother doted on her, but she was gone too soon.”
“She left the trust.”
“No. I left the trust. My mother just left her a bequest to be given on her wedding day or her thirtieth birthday.”
“So, there was never a doubt that she was a beta.”
“Never. She was sturdy and wild. There was some thought she might be an alpha, but...”
“My upper body strength is shit.” Em came back with her sleeves damp and her face shining.
Her father chuckled. “That. She can’t do a chin-up to save her life.”
She made a face. “I would be outraged, but he isn’t wrong.”
“These are things that your alphas should know.”
“Not my alphas, Father.”
He frowned. “But, the slow seduction...”
Samsor laughed. “Deltas. We are all deltas.”
“But... the odds of that are extreme.”
“Emhara beats the odds.” Samsor smiled. “Her heart stopped, and she came back, and then Duran was there.”
“I asked them to call the book club, and then Luna was there, and then she called Duran because it was obvious that I needed legal representation. Somewhere in there, my heart had a major arrhythmia, and they shocked me to get me started. That pain is unmistakable.”
She looked at the drawing pad and sat down, working efficiently but quickly.
Samsor looked at her father. “Coffee, Carlos?”
“Please.”
* * * *
Carlos. Her father’s name was Carlos. He was so well protected in the digital world that she had never been able to find him. Well, she had, but when she had his office number, his receptionist blocked her at every turn.
She had been polite. Hello, my name is Emhara, and I need to speak to my father.
The man had been busy for three years.
She took a deep breath, focused on her project, and smiled softly at the face that was emerging under her pencils. When her pencils dulled, she went to the kitchen and got a paring knife. She sat, sharpened them, and kept making the face from memory.
The drawing relaxed her and let her examine her situation, just like Abuela had taught her.
Some people need to use their hands to focus, Emhara.
There is no shame in it. When you can’t draw big, draw on your palm with your fingertip.
Keep your focus. It’s important to feel in control when you are not in control.
She had gotten a hug and then a kiss to the top of her head, and the scent of peaches and roses surrounded her.
She sighed as she finished and sat back. A pack of wet wipes was next to her, and she used one. As she stood up and went to get some of the coffee she could smell, her father walked over and gasped. “Oh, Emhara, you captured her perfectly.”
“I reflected her with the eyes of someone who loved her. That woman could not be captured.” She smiled and doctored her coffee until she could sip without wincing.
Samsor smiled. “Don’t care for dark roast?”
“Tea drinker by preference.”
“What kind?”
“Earl Grey. I like it when my teeth squeak.” She checked her phone, and it wasn’t quite eleven.
“What are we doing for lunch? I don’t want to freak out on the stand, and it is either eat or start another picture, and I don’t know how Mateo’s mates would like to see the other him.
” She looked at her father. “If you want to keep that, we will need to get some fixative spray.”
He smiled. “I want to keep it. It is going above my desk in my office.”
“I can always make you another one.”
He looked at the picture on the table. “I want to keep this one. It is very powerful.”
She looked at it and nodded. “It is almost like he can jump off the paper.”
Her father smiled. “Yes. I would be very interested to see Mateo’s pack.”
“I will ask them before I do it. I haven’t seen Armand yet. Not properly.” She shrugged and looked at Samsor. “What is the option for lunch?”
Echel grinned and got to his feet. “We are going out.”
“Oh, shoot. Time to switch dresses.”
Echel lifted a garment bag. “Got it. Just in case you are as enthusiastic about lunch as you were about breakfast.”
She blushed but nodded. “Good call.” She grabbed her phone. “Ready when you are.”
Samsor nodded and spoke to her father. “When we get them stabilized, we will call you. I am guessing that you want the image of your mother as well?”
Carlos smiled. “Yes, please. I remember those pearls. I wonder where they ended up?”
“Your wife sold them five years ago.”
Her father stiffened. “What?”
“Yes, she took as many of Abuela’s items as she could, and she sold them. The serious stuff is still in your office safe, but I notified the executor, and they tried to reclaim as much as they could. I would have, but I didn’t have any resources, and I couldn’t draw attention to myself.”
He touched her shoulder. “It is fine. We will find them.”
“You don’t really need to. They are just a collection to you.”
“They were my mother’s. I have many memories of her dressed for events, weddings, funerals, and board meetings in those jewels. They will return to the family. Perhaps you will have a daughter to wear something one day.”
“That is a messed-up reason to have a kid. A jewel rack.”
He sighed. “I was trying to say that the jewels are yours. They were listed for you in the will.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.”
“You were still a child. There was no reason you should have. It was supposed to have been kept in the trust, but I am guessing someone was persuaded to steal them. I will deal with that when I return to my home.”
She nodded. “You do you, Carlos.”
He looked at her. “Please tell me you knew my name before today.”
She bit her lip. “I knew your company name, and I found the phone number. Your receptionist is a raging bitch.”
He blinked. “I will pass the sentiment along. Do you know when you called?”
“I can send you a list.” She shrugged.
“Thank you. Well, as law enforcement and I don’t get along, I will ask you to let me know how the afternoon goes.”
She swallowed. “I don’t know how this kind of thing is scored.”
Samsor said softly, “We will keep you apprised of how it is going, Carlos.”
Emhara sensed subtext, but she shrugged. Not her problem. Life or death had been out of her hands for quite a while. The now was all she could manage, and it was pretty freaky on every level. Alphas needed omegas for emotional stability, but what the hell did deltas need?