Page 18

CHAPTER 18

KARC

T he limo glides through the streets of New York, the city’s neon glow flickering through the tinted windows. Raven’s sitting next to me, her fingers drumming nervously on her thigh. She’s been quiet since we left her apartment, which is unusual. Normally, she’s got something sharp or sarcastic to say. But not today. Today, she’s wound tight, her tension almost palpable.

"How will I know it’s them?" I ask as the limo pulls up to the terminal. I’m not exactly versed in human family dynamics, but I’m pretty sure “meet the parents” is supposed to be a big deal.

Raven glances out the window, then back at me with a look that’s half amusement, half dread. "Oh, believe me, you’ll know."

Before I can press her further, the car door swings open, and chaos spills in. Two figures barrel toward us, their voices carrying over the din of the airport crowd. The man is tall and wiry, his skin weathered like old leather, and he’s wearing a plaid shirt that looks like it’s been through a wood chipper. The woman is shorter, with a straw hat perched precariously on her head and a banjo slung over her shoulder.

"Well, I’ll be damned," the man booms, his voice like gravel tumbling down a hill. "You sho nuff a big fella." He thrusts a calloused hand toward me, and I shake it. His grip is surprisingly strong for a human. "You richie rich, is that right?"

"What?" I blink, caught off guard. "I thought you said your parents spoke English, Raven."

She pinches the bridge of her nose, her cheeks flushing. "They do. That is English. Sort of."

"Aw, don’t mind Terry," the woman says, her voice warm and twangy. She steps forward and pulls me into a hug that smells faintly of moonshine and hay. "I’m Sandy. Raven’s mama. And you’re the fella who’s takin’ our little girl off our hands, ain’t ya?"

"Mom!" Raven hisses, her face turning red.

Sandy just laughs, a sound like a banjo string snapping. "Oh, hush, darlin’. Ain’t no shame in it. He’s a looker, I’ll give ya that."

Terry claps me on the shoulder, his grin revealing a gold tooth. "So, what’s the plan, big guy? You takin’ us to one o’ them fancy restaurants where they charge ya a hundred bucks for a plate o’ lettuce?"

I glance at Raven, who’s now staring at the ceiling as if she’s praying for it to swallow her whole. "Actually, yes. I thought we could…"

But Terry’s already climbing into the limo, his boots tracking mud on the leather seats. "Well, hell, what’re we waitin’ for? Let’s get this show on the road!"

Sandy follows him, still clutching her banjo, and Raven mutters something under her breath that sounds like "kill me now."

As the limo pulls away from the curb, Terry leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "So, Kirk, is it? What’s your story, son? You one o’ them tech billionaires? Or did ya inherit your fortune from some fancy-pants family?"

"Terry!" Raven snaps, her voice sharp. "Can you not interrogate him for five minutes?"

"Aw, c’mon, darlin’. I’m just makin’ conversation. Ain’t that right, Kirk?" He winks at me, and I find myself grinning despite myself.

"I built my own company," I say, which isn’t entirely a lie. Veritas is technically my company, even if it’s not exactly a human one.

Terry nods approvingly. "Good for you, son. Nothin’ wrong with a little elbow grease. Ain’t that right, Sandy?"

Sandy’s strumming a tune on her banjo, her head bobbing along. "Mhm. Gotta earn your keep in this world. Money don’t grow on trees, y’know."

Raven groans, sinking lower in her seat. "Please don’t start with the life lessons."

Sandy stops playing and points the ban neck at Raven. "Now, you listen here, missy. You might think you’re all grown up now, but you’ll always be our little girl. And we’ve got every right to give you advice, whether you like it or not."

"Especially when it comes to marryin’ rich," Terry adds with a chuckle.

Raven buries her face in her hands. "This is a nightmare."

I reach over and squeeze her hand, my scales brushing against her skin through my image inducer. "It’s going to be fine," I say, though I’m not entirely sure I believe it myself.

Terry notices the gesture and raises an eyebrow. "Well, look at that. You got my daughter blushin’. That’s a first."

Sandy grins, her eyes twinkling. "I like him already."

Raven groans again, muttering, "I’m gonna need a drink."

The limo pulls away from the Four Seasons, and Raven slumps against me with a heavy sigh. Her tension melts, replaced by visible relief.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" I squeeze her hand.

"Easy for you to say. You didn't grow up with them." She straightens her dress. "I hope your family is easier to deal with."

My throat tightens. The words catch, and I stare straight ahead at the partition between us and the driver.

"Karc?"

I focus on a spot on the leather upholstery.

"Kaaaaarc." Raven's voice rises with concern. "What aren't you telling me? You're not already married are you?"

"No!" The word explodes from my chest. "No, nothing like that. It's just... my father, Vrahmin. He's... curmudgeonly and traditional."

"Traditional how?" She turns to face me fully. "Come on, spill it. How bad can he be?"

"There's no way to prepare you for my father." I shake my head. "He's..."

My phone chirps with an incoming message. The screen lights up with Vrahmin's contact photo - a scowling face that matches his personality perfectly. My stomach drops as I read the message.

"I believe the human phrase is, speak of the devil and he shall appear." I show Raven the screen. "My father is at my office, waiting to meet us."

The lobby of my office building is a sleek, modern space, all glass and steel. Raven and I step inside, and I immediately spot my father. He’s holding court near the reception desk, a crowd of wide-eyed Vakutan fawning over him as he regales them with some exaggerated war story. His human disguise is impeccable—tall, broad-shouldered, with a shock of silver hair and a jawline that could cut glass. But his voice, booming and irreverent, is unmistakably Vrahmin.

“And there I was,” he’s saying, gesturing wildly, “knee-deep in Grolgath guts, my plasma rifle jammed, and I thought, ‘Well, this is it. Time to go out in a blaze of glory.’ So I grabbed the nearest one by the tail?—"

“Grolgath don’t have tails,” I mutter under my breath, but no one hears me over the sound of Vrahmin’s laughter.

He spots us before I can steer Raven in the opposite direction. His eyes light up, and he abandons his audience, striding toward us with all the subtlety of a charging rhino.

“Karc!” he bellows, his arms spread wide. “My boy! Come here, give your old man a hug.”

I hesitate a split second too long. That’s all he needs.

Vrahmin’s knee connects with my groin with ruthless precision. The air leaves my lungs in a wheeze, and I double over, clutching myself. Raven gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Oh my god!” she cries out.

“You’re too slow!” Vrahmin cackles, slapping his thigh like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. “You starting a farm, boy? Because I just gave ya a couple of ACHERS.”

“Raven,” I manage to groan, still bent over. “Meet Vrahmin, my father.”

She looks from me to him, her expression a mix of horror and disbelief. “What the hell was that?”

“A Vakutan greeting,” Vrahmin says, still grinning. “Don’t worry, I won’t give you one.” He takes her hand, bowing slightly as he presses a kiss to her knuckles. “You must be Raven. My son’s taste is finally improving. You’re the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen.”

Raven blinks, caught off guard. “Uh… thanks?”

“If my boy ever pisses ya off too much and you divorce him, give me a call,” he adds with a wink.

“Father!” I straighten up, my face burning. “Would you stop?”

Raven bursts into laughter, the sound ringing through the lobby. “Oh my god, I think I like him.”

Vrahmin chuckles, slapping me on the back hard enough to make me stumble. “See? She’s got a sense of humor. Keep this one, Karc. She’s a keeper.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, glaring at him. “Can we take this upstairs before you embarrass me any further?”

“Embarrass you?” Vrahmin snorts. “Boy, I’m just getting started.”