Chapter Forty-Five
Theo fidgeted in his shirt. It was a strange thing to see.
He wore suits day in, day out, yet somehow looked uncomfortable in a simple polo.
Verity knew it wasn’t the shirt unsettling him.
It was the prospect of dinner with her parents.
She was almost grateful for his fidgeting, if only because it distracted her from her own nerves.
The past week had gone by in a blur. She’d spent time with Cora, who in turn spent a fair amount of time with Adam.
Enough that they’d organised unofficial donor meetings at the café.
The real meetings had started up again too, and at Verity’s insistence, they were now run by humans rather than vampires.
A small change, but she hoped it would make a difference.
And if it didn’t, donors had somewhere to talk that wasn’t official, wasn’t being watched.
The police were looking into the missing people.
She wanted, badly, to push Georgie’s case to the top of the list, but she knew that wouldn’t be fair.
So many had vanished in the weeks and months before everything came to light.
Every family deserved the truth. Every family deserved closure, whatever shape it came in.
Jesse was gone. Where, she didn’t know. Theo insisted he’d be okay, often disappearing for months, sometimes years, at a time. What had happened between him and Petra sat heavy on Verity and she hoped it wouldn’t be years before she could thank him for his help.
And then there was Abe and Sienna. Verity didn’t know how she felt about the pairing, but Sienna insisted she genuinely liked him.
That he was exactly the man Verity had started to believe he was.
Both Harris and Sienna were moving to Salvation.
Harris wanted a fresh start, away from the Roses.
Sienna wanted something simpler than that. Love, or at least a chance at it.
Every day since the agreement with Petra brought a new challenge, but this one, facing her parents with Theo at her side, felt like the one she dreaded most.
Theo raised his hand to knock.
Verity laughed. “Just open it.”
“I can’t just open it. It isn’t my house.”
“It’s my house,” she said, hand already on the handle. “Was my house. We don’t knock.” She pushed it open and called out, “We’re here!”
“Oh, it’s so lovely to see you both!” Her mum swept her into a hug before Verity could warn her about her ribs. She bit back a wince.
A clatter of glasses came from the kitchen, and her dad appeared in the doorway. “Evening,” he said, looking Theo over again as though the inspection in his apartment hadn’t quite settled it for him. He still didn’t look entirely convinced of their union, but he tried to smile.
“What’ll you have to drink, Theo?” he asked, then visibly cringed at his own question, as if he’d half-expected him to ask for a cup of blood.
“I wouldn’t mind a drop of wine, if you’ve got it,” Theo said, and Brian’s shoulders dropped half an inch. Verity wondered if Theo had caught the scent of wine from the kitchen the moment the door opened.
“Come on in, then,” Brian said, ushering them through.
The smell of dinner and the murmur of her mum’s radio settled over Verity, familiar and safe.
They sat, and no sooner had Theo been handed his glass than Brian started the questions: how safe Cliffhaven actually was, whether they’d be visiting, how long they expected to be gone, when they’d be back.
Theo answered as honestly as he could, glancing to Verity every time he gave an answer that didn’t sound great. Which was most answers.
“Truthfully, there’s a lot we don’t know yet,” he said. “It’s been a long time since those people had any real governance, or policing, or felt safe at all. It might take a while before they trust us again.”
Brian nodded slowly, his expression grave. It wasn’t the answer he’d hoped for, but Verity knew he’d take honesty over comfort every time.
She reached for Theo’s hand under the table and squeezed it. “We’ll figure it out,” she said, with a smile.
Debbie fussed over the meal as they ate, insisting they never usually had visitors and hoping everything was up to standard, addressing Theo as “sir” more than once even after he gently asked her not to.
When Debbie reached to clear a plate, something dropped to the floor with a small thud, a fork, Verity assumed, already bending to retrieve it before she registered what it actually was.
Theo’s coin.
He snatched it up before she could, pocketing it quickly, looking faintly embarrassed at being caught fidgeting with it beneath the table.
Verity smiled. He’d stood his ground in front of Petra fucking Rose without flinching, and yet here he was, needing the coin in his fist just to face her parents.