Chapter 12 #2
She shook her head, still not entirely ready to forgive Zander for his presumption, but grudgingly understanding why he’d done it. “When are they coming?”
“Three days,” Zander said. “The hunt is scheduled to start within about an hour after their arrival. I’ll need to help oversee the hunt, and then we’ll have dinner with them that first night.”
Three days. She had three days to figure out how to tell her parents she was in a relationship with a vampire older than most countries — and his gorgeous, submissive boyfriend.
This was going to be a disaster.
The following days passed in a blur, mostly working on her thesis with the occasional breaks to eat, work out, fuck, and sleep.
Zander and Spence were both kept busy a large portion of the day, but that was fine with Emmy, since she needed to focus on her project.
But the big day finally arrived, and she stared at her clothes, trying to figure out what to wear.
There wasn’t a whole lot to choose from, since she’d been limited on what to bring, and Rhea had told her to just bring comfortable clothing for the silo, with a few warmer items for when they went up to the Aurora Ballroom for exercise or just to hang out in the sunshine.
And god, she missed the sun.
She blew out a breath and grabbed some dark jeans and a soft merino sweater. She wasn’t going to overthink this.
But she’d need a layer under the sweater since they’d be outside, so she grabbed a flesh-colored, thick thermal shirt.
Three minutes later, Emmy stood in front of the mirror, fiddling with the loose turtleneck, and re-draping the sweater over the thermal shirt for the third time.
The deep forest green brought out her eyes, but she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
Did she want to look good for this disaster of a dinner?
“You look great,” Spence said from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed in dark jeans and a charcoal henley.
“I look like I’m trying too hard.”
“You look like you’re wearing a sweater.” He stood and moved behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders. “It’s just dinner.”
“It’s not just dinner.” She glared at him in the mirror. “It’s the ‘hey Mom and Dad, I’m fucking your best friend and his boyfriend’ dinner.”
Spence’s reflection smiled at her. “When you put it that way, maybe now I’m a little nervous, too.” He kissed the top of her head. “It’ll be okay. We’re in a public place, and your dad isn’t going to make a scene. They love you. They want what’s best for you.”
She stepped into the bathroom and opened the drawer they’d cleared out for her makeup. Shit, she needed to wash her brushes, but not now. She grabbed the one she used for primer and got started.
“I’m not even mad at Zander anymore, and how fucking annoying is that?
” She dotted primer on her forehead, cheeks, chin, and began blending.
“I want to be mad at him for being high-handed and making decisions without me, but—” She paused while she worked under her eyes and then continued.
“I hate that he’s right, but he is. Dad’s going to hear about it, and it’s better coming from us. ”
“Doesn’t mean you have to like how he handled it.”
“No, but I can’t be pissed at him for doing the logical thing just because the logical thing is uncomfortable.” She finished, changed brushes, and grabbed her contour palette. “So I’m stuck being angry at the situation, which is significantly less satisfying than having someone to be angry with.”
He smiled. “Look at you, adulting like a pro.” His smile faded. “You could be angry at your parents for making you feel like you need their permission.”
Emmy glanced at him, then looked back to her face in the mirror. Just a touch of contour. She didn’t want to look like she’d tried too hard, and yet, she wanted to look pulled together. “I don’t need their permission.”
“I know. But you’re acting like you do.”
She stopped adding contour around her hairline and met his gaze in the mirror. “That’s not fair.”
His voice was gentle but confident. “You’re twenty-four. You’re brilliant. You’re working your ass off at school and enjoying it, mostly. You’re happy in the coterie. And you’re about to go explain yourself to your parents like you did something wrong.”
“I’m in a relationship with someone they trusted to look after me.”
“You’re in a relationship with someone who respects you and treats you well. The fact that he’s also their friend is just … a complication. Not a crime.”
Emmy worked the dark under her cheeks and changed out the brush so she could do the pink on her cheeks while she considered what he was saying, and then met his gaze in the mirror again. “When did you get so wise?”
“I’ve always been this wise. You just weren’t paying attention.” He leaned down and kissed her temple. “Come on. You’re beautiful. Let’s go face the firing squad.”
“I need to do eyeliner and maybe just a little eyeshadow. I need to dig my wool socks out of the bottom of my drawer, too.” And she needed to curl her eyelashes and add mascara, but no need in listing everything.
Shit, did she want to do lipstick? Or just a ton of chapstick? Maybe her tinted lip balm.
Ten minutes later, Emmy’s hair was fixed so it would still look good when she took her hat off, her makeup was flawless without looking overdone, and she had her wool socks and warmest boots on.
She was surprised when Spence headed for the elevator, but she didn’t argue. Not many people in the silo had access to it, but of course Spence and Zander did. She figured Zander would probably give her access if she asked, but she didn’t intend to.
Zander was in the first-floor office, bent over a tablet with Lucien when they arrived. He looked up as they entered, his gaze sweeping over Emmy in a way that made her feel seen and settled at once.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Not even a little bit, but I don’t see a way around it, so I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
He wrote something on a few sticky notes, which he affixed to different sheets of paper, and told Lucien, “I don’t think I’ll be gone longer than three hours.” He sighed. “I might be, but you know the drill, if this takes longer.”
“I do.”
The three walked up the steps and through the Aurora Ballroom together, the cavernous space quiet at this hour.
A rack of heavy parkas stood near the entrance, and Emmy put her own cap on over her hair before donning a parka and then lifting the hood over her cap.
She zipped and buttoned everything, a little claustrophobic with most of her face covered.
Spence did the same. Dragons and wolves can handle normal cold, but it was minus thirty-eight degrees outside. That’s fuck-you weather.
However, Zander just wore his normal heavy wool suit coat.
Vampires aren’t bothered by normal cold, and this wasn’t normal by any stretch of the imagination, but dressing like this was an alpha thing, proof of his badassery.
Also, there was no need to pretend humanity — everyone in town knew exactly who and what he is.
Outside, the arctic wind hit like a physical wall despite the extreme-weather gear, and she hurried toward the waiting SUV, something massive and black with snow tires that looked like they could handle the apocalypse.
Two security guards sat in the front seat, and the three of them climbed into the back.
Zander motioned her into the middle, and she decided it was too cold to argue with him, so she slid to the middle.
She didn’t need to be protected, but the sooner the doors closed, the sooner they’d all be a little warmer.
The short drive to Mordnik took three times longer than it’d taken when they’d arrived. Not a big deal, and Emmy actually enjoyed looking out into the darkness at the endless snow, lit only by their headlights.
“The restaurant is called The Hearth,” Zander said as they pulled into town. “It’s been here since shortly after the town was formed around the original radar array, though it’s on the third owner. And no, there isn’t a hearth, or a fireplace. Best not to mention that to the staff.”
Emmy hadn’t seen the town yet, other than her curious look at the Google satellite and street views.
It was tiny, three main roads connected by cross streets, and she didn’t see much of it tonight, taking one of the cross streets to the farthest main road.
Lights glowed in windows, and everything had that weathered, practical look of a place built to survive rather than impress.
“Your parents are staying at the B&B,” Zander continued. “The owner of the restaurant is also the cook. There’s a menu, but most people eat his dish of the day.”
Emmy nodded, not trusting her voice.
“I flew in the ingredients so he could make braised lamb shanks with root vegetables his dish of the day.”
She turned to look at him. “You had him make Dad’s favorite meal?”
Zander sighed, his expression unreadable. “This is going to be difficult enough without your father thinking I don’t respect him. Small gestures matter.”
The SUV pulled up in front of a low building with the name painted above the door, weathered and faded. Warm light spilled from a single window, and Emmy could see people moving inside.
“Here we go,” Spence murmured.
Emmy took a breath, squared her shoulders, and reached for Spence’s hand.
This was going to be a disaster.
But at least it would be a disaster with braised lamb.