9. Nine #2
“Uncle Knox talked about you,” Hayley volunteered, speaking for the first time. She was much calmer than her brother.
“I did not,” Knox sputtered, his cheeks flooding with color. “You’re making that up.”
Hayley had an expressive face. She might have been only five, but there was no questioning what she felt at any given moment. “I asked you about the lady we had lunch with that one time and you said we would see her again.” She pointed at me. “There she is.”
Knox looked as if he wished a hole would open up and swallow him. “I was talking about someone else. You remember that time we had that lunch with that other lady. I was talking about her.”
Hayley wasn’t having it. “What other lady?”
“You remember. It was at that place with the good beignets.”
“There was no other lady.”
“Hey, if I give you guys five bucks each will you go away?” Knox asked.
“Yes!” Hoyt pumped his fist.
Hayley took longer to consider it. “There was no other lady,” she insisted as she took the bill from Knox. “You’re being weird.”
Knox might have been embarrassed for this to play out in front of me, but he clearly loved his niece too much to gaslight her. “You’re very wise. You’re going to make some man miserable one day, and I’m here for it.”
Hayley smirked as she tucked the money in her pocket. “I’ll be back later with questions.”
Knox groaned. “Of course you will.”
Hayley and Hoyt took off, leaving the adults to stare between one another. I felt uncomfortable.
“So … you guys have been married a long time,” I said like an idiot when the silence had stretched far too long. In reality, it was probably only four or five seconds.
Dalton chuckled. “You’re a great conversationalist, aren’t you? I guess all those stories I’ve heard about you are true.”
I balked. “What stories?”
Kelsey elbowed her husband in the stomach, hard. “Do not be rude. You’ll make her uncomfortable.”
Why did she care if I was uncomfortable? “Um … I’m fine.”
Kelsey fervently shook her head. “You’re not. You’re overwhelmed, and you really need to develop a better poker face. Shifters feed on the discomfort of others. You’re out of your element here.
“Over in the Quarter, when there might only be one or two of us, you’re the dominant force,” she continued. “Here you’re not, and these guys are getting off on it.” She grabbed my wrist. “Come on. I’ll give you the lowdown.” She dragged me away from Craig.
“I was showing her how to grill,” Craig complained.
“There will be plenty of time for that,” Kelsey shot back.
Plenty of time? Did she know something I didn’t?
“You never taught us how to barbecue,” Dalton lamented.
“There’s still time,” Craig replied. “She was open to the process. I’m not sure the same can be said of you and your brother.”
“That’s kind of rude, Dad,” Dalton complained.
“It’s the truth.”
“Ignore them,” Kelsey ordered as she dragged me to the driveway so I could see what was going on. People were coming from every direction, folding chairs in hand, ready to hunker down in the Cullen yard for the night. “This is a community,” she started.
“So I’ve noticed.”
“They’re not all shifters,” she said. “It’s about fifty-fifty. This community is about more than pack politics.”
She had my full attention. “You and Dalton are very involved in the pack?”
“Dalton more than me. I want the pack as a safety net for the twins, but there are things that go along with the pack that are not … .” She shrugged.
I searched for the words to make her understand that I understood. “We don’t have that sort of politics in our community. We are all solitary, individual families.”
“That’s the vampire part of you, right?” She gave me a sidelong look. “What about the witch part?”
No one — no one in a very long time — had asked me that.
“The witch part is overlooked more than it’s embraced,” I replied, keeping my voice low.
I wasn’t sharing ancient family secrets or anything, but it felt weird to talk about it in front of a bunch of people I knew could eavesdrop.
“All anyone cares about is the vampire part.”
“That’s not all that you care about,” Kelsey guessed. “You value both parts. Do you favor one?”
That was a strangely insightful question. “I guess it depends on the day.” I held out my hands. “When I need to get somewhere fast, I’m thankful for my vampire roots. When I’m in a physical fight, the same goes. When I need to make a potion or ward something, I tend to favor my witch roots.”
“What about your parents? Which do they favor?”
“Vampire. Definitely.” That wasn’t even a question. “The witch part has fallen by the wayside as far as they’re concerned.”
“And your sister?”
It was a punch to the heart. “My sister is … gone.”
“I know.” Kelsey’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I mean before she disappeared. Was she more vampire or witch?”
No one had ever asked that either. “I don’t know,” I replied after several seconds of contemplation. “She never had time to make a decision. Back then, she was just a teenager. She was too busy worrying about boys and how her hair looked.”
“That must suck,” Kelsey lamented. “She never really got to become a full person. Teenagers are, well, let’s just say there’s a reason they can never be deemed a sociopath or psychopath. Too many of them would cause false positives.”
“My sister wasn’t terrible,” I said in a low voice. “She just wasn’t done becoming a person.”
“I get it.” Kelsey’s hand landed on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for all of that.”
I believed her, but remained suspicious. I couldn’t help myself. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Maybe I think you’ll be back and I want us to be friends.”
It had to be more than that. “Why would I come back?”
Her lips swished into a smirk. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just fated to be that way.”