81. Deacon
Chapter 81
Deacon
It took practically every trick in the book to get myself out of the house without Henri. And it wasn’t just Henri I had to lie to. The ends justify the means, so it’ll probably be fine.
We’re going home tonight. My wolf argues with me for the fifteenth time.
Yes. We’re going home tonight. I reassure him, hoping I’m still not lying to him, but he’s behaving, and I haven’t seen too many people who haven’t been real, according to Michael.
“This it?” Michael Tate, Cade’s chief security officer for Corinth Security, asks, looking at the brick-front Cape Cod home we pulled up in front of.
“Numbers match.” I shrug.
“What’s the plan?” Michael asks as he chambers a round in his gun.
“Fuck. What do you think we’re here for?” I hiss, pushing the gun down. “You’re nowhere near on my first list of people to bring with me when going to kill someone.”
Michael rolls his eyes. “I know you haven’t forgotten about the death threats against you. That meeting was just the beginning. I’m going nowhere without being locked and loaded.”
I sigh. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re not even human, so let’s not pretend we’re going to need the bullets.” I open the car door and get out.
When I turn back, Michael’s staring at me with a mix of awe and horror.
I fucking knew it.
Michael is out of the car in a flash and following me up to the house.
He doesn’t bother calling my name to get me to come back. We’re in the middle of nowhere, Ohio, on a school night after supper. It’s not the most dangerous place in the world. He’ll chill out.
But my nerves are shot for another reason. I ran the conversation through my head a thousand times, so all that’s left is to ring the damn doorbell and have it in person.
I don’t focus on anything other than the blue door as I walk up to it, the tunnel vision of the task at hand setting in.
The doorbell casing is a little worn, but I push it instead of knocking, giving it a chance to do its job.
“I’ve got it,” a woman calls from in the house.
Through the frosted glass window, I can see a shape moving through the space toward the door.
“Hello?” The woman looks just like her picture. Dark hair, glasses, more avian face than Henri’s rounder one. No one would mistake them as biological family. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Paulina Greene?” I ask, trying to keep myself standing upright.
I’m not normally great with parents. I’m the guy you take home to scare Mom and Dad. No conversation I’ve had with parents in person has ever gone well. This would have been easier on the phone .
“I am.” She eyes me and then leans to see Michael standing a few feet behind me before calling out, her voice pitching with fear. “Frank?”
“Coming,” Frank, presumably, shouts back.
Rather than repeat myself, I wait for him to come to stand beside her.
“Oh, hello.” He eyes me suspiciously. Which isn’t even fair because I purposefully didn’t wear all black because ‘it would look like I was here for bad news.’
“My name is James Deacon Alden of The Ardelean Bloodline.” I shuffle to the side. “This is Michael Tate of Corinth Security. We’re here to talk with you about your adopted daughter, Henri.”
“Daughter,” Paulina says sharply. “We adopted her, yes, but she is our daughter.”
I smile. I like her already.
“Is she okay?” Frank is quick to ask.
“She’s doing quite well.” This is as far as the conversation in my head really went in the form of details. I was hoping they’d ask some questions to guide it, but I’m still standing awkwardly on their front stoop. “She asked me to come speak with you.”