Page 31

Chapter

Thirty-One

Since we sat down, I haven’t stopped stealing glances of my father. He seems genuine—the easy way he smiles as he talks about my mother makes me think he loved her as much as I did. It almost seems too good to be true. I want to trust him, but I have to be careful.

The aromas are too much, and unfortunately now I can’t read the fae lettering so I have no idea what to order as both Harek and my father read from the menus.

Einar sets his down and glances at me. “What do you want to eat?”

I shrug. “What was my mother’s favorite?”

A smile tugs at his mouth. “I’m not sure she had one. She loved trying new things, and anywhere we went she wanted to taste everything at least once.”

“That does sound like her.”

“But not you?”

“I’m adventurous,” I say a little too quickly. “I just, uh, can’t read the menu.”

“You don’t read?” His eyebrows wrinkle with surprise.

“Not fae writing. I was raised believing I was nothing more than a human.”

He jolts. “You were raised as a human ? When you’re one of the rarest fae alive?”

The words surprise me, though I suppose they shouldn’t after hearing him say there’s never been a female hunter before.

Harek glances up from his menu. “Maybe that’s why she raised you as a human. Nobody ever suspected anything.”

My father tilts his head toward him. “You never knew?”

“Of course I did, but I was sworn to silence.”

Einar studies Harek. “You’re part of Tyra’s pack.”

“Yes.” He returns his attention to the menu.

That catches my attention. “You knew she was a shifter?”

“I can tell what any fae is. That’s another thing you’ll pick up on before long, though it might take a while if you’re completely new to fae life.”

“I am.” I sigh. “If performers hadn’t come to Skoro from time to time, I might not even know they exist for real. Kids whispered about fae like they were myths.”

“Hold on. You’re saying you were in Skoro all this time?”

“Right.”

My father’s eyes widen. “That’s so close. I traveled past there easily hundreds of times over the years. How did I never sense you? Or her?”

“Our pack has always had access to magic,” Harek said. “Maybe that’s how she kept everyone from being noticed.”

“The boy does talk.”

“I’m not a boy.”

A smile tugs on my father’s lips. “I’m a hundred and fifty years old. Everyone under a hundred is a kid to me.”

I stare at him. “You’re a hundred and fifty?”

He gives me a mock offended look. “You make it sound like I have one foot in the grave. I’m considered young by many around here, though I suppose you’re used to much smaller numbers. Is it true humans only live to be about eighty?”

“If they’re lucky,” Harek says. “Can we order the food now?”

I kick him under the table.

He pretends not to notice.

My father waves over a server, and she flirts with him. He speaks easily with her, as if he’s used to that kind of attention. Then he and Harek order, but I’m stuck. Apparently, I can only read fae when it’s about hunters.

I glance at Einar. “What was something you remember my mother ordering?”

He turns back to the server and says a food dish I’ve never heard of, and she manages to flirt back at him with just that.

Harek leans over to me. “He seems to enjoy the attention.”

“What guy wouldn’t? She’s pretty.”

“I only care if you notice me.”

Heat floods my face. I don’t think I’m ever going to adjust to him saying things like that, but at the same time I like it.

The server promises to be back with appetizers and she takes off.

“Do you come here often?” Harek asks.

My father nods. “Been coming here for decades.”

“You must travel a lot, given your skills.”

“I do. In fact, I have to head out again tonight. I’ve been hearing about more and more evil fae ravaging cities. My work is never done, and as usual, the nefarious activities always pick up when there are two mature hunters.”

“You aren’t weakening?”

“Those are only rumors.”

“We read it in the hunter book at the library.”

“Despite what you’ve read, I assure you I’m no weaker than I was before.”

They stare each other down.

I sigh.

Luckily the server arrives with three drinks and a large plate of colorful finger foods.

My mouth waters, and I dig in first. Harek jumps in after me, and my father jokes with the server. The food melts on my tongue, and I scarf down close to half of it before I know it.

The server glances at my father. “Should I bring out another platter?”

“Might be a good idea.” He looks amused. “Perhaps bring out two, Jeje.”

Einar is a far cry from what I expected after everything I’d heard and read about hunters.

“Two. Got it.” She walks slowly away, her gaze lingering on his.

I wipe my mouth. “We haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“No need to explain. If you’re hungry, eat. I owe you a lifetime of meals.”

“You do?”

“Of course. That’s how many I’ve missed out on. I never had any idea you existed—that thought never even crossed my mind when Tyra disappeared.”

“Did you look for her?”

“All over. I put my tracking skills to the test, but I never caught even a whiff of her whereabouts.”

I turn to Harek. “Where does our pack get access to magic?”

“There’s a line of witches we have an alliance with. I wouldn’t be surprised if your mother reached out to them.”

“So my siblings are protected?” I ask. “Assuming they don’t kill anyone.”

“That would be my guess.”

“Can we find out?”

“It would seem she kept all of that to herself. My parents never mentioned her seeking the witches to me.”

“But it doesn’t mean she didn’t.”

He frowns. “I really doubt it. They kept me in the dark about a lot as I grew up, but once I was a teenager I demanded answers. When I returned to tell them about Gunnar and the sword, I asked if there was anything else I should know. They couldn’t think of anything.”

“Then I need to talk to the witches.”

“No!” Harek and my father speak in unison.

Jeje returns with the two plates of food, but she must sense the tension because she drops them off without a single word and scurries away.

“Why not?” I demand. “The witches must know more about my mother if she went to them. She was apparently the world’s best secret keeper, and nobody other than the coven will be able to help me.”

“I forbid it.” Einar folds his arms, his eyebrows drawing together.

“You can’t stop me.” I stare him down.

“I’m your father.”

“And I’m an adult.”

Harek shakes his head. “Eira, the witches are dangerous. Their magic isn’t like what you’ve seen here.”

“It’s black magic,” my father says. “It’s deadly.”

“Then why would my sweet mother trust them?”

He draws a deep breath. “There was more to your ‘sweet’ mother than you knew.”

“What does that mean?”

Einar pushes some of his dreadlocks behind his shoulder. “I’m not denying she had a sweetness to her, but that was also balanced out by a strong and sly side.”

“What are you saying?”

He turns to Harek. “Do you want to tell her?”

My mouth falls open. “Have you been keeping more from me?”

“No!” He turns to my father. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know about Tyra’s fighter side?”

“What are you talking about?”

I stare at him in disbelief. My meek mother who always acquiesced to Gunnar had a fighter side? Either she led a double life and I didn’t know her, or Einar and I are talking about two different people. If that’s the case, he isn’t my father and I’m not a hunter.

If only I had a photograph of her, but I hadn’t been able to grab one from the house before fleeing.

Einar starts to say something, but I interrupt him. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same person? My mother was a gentle, kindhearted woman who nursed birds and mice back to health when others would’ve tossed them into the woods.”

He looks lost in thought for a moment. “That definitely sounds like her, but Tyra was a highly complex woman with many sides. Anything she did had a purpose—there wasn’t a moment she wasn’t in full control of any situation.”

“Until she got sick.” A fresh wave of grief washes through me. “Why didn’t she try to cure herself with magic?”

“Because that’s likely what did her in.” Einar scowls. “That kind of magic always comes at a price.”

I feel sick to my stomach, and for the first time in a week, it has nothing to do with the renegade souls I absorbed. “Did she get sick trying to protect me?”

“Potentially. You said she had other children?”

“Yeah.” Tears threaten, and I blink them away. That explains why all the doctors she saw were useless. Gunnar had paid top dollar for the best, even finding other medicine men and women from towns that were a week or more away.

“With a werewolf?” My father asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

“A human. My siblings are halflings and don’t know it any more than I knew about my true nature.”

“Is he trustworthy?”

Harek roars with laughter.

Einar rubs his temples. “I take that as a no.”

“Gunnar tried to marry Eira off to a cruel and disgusting old man the moment her mother died. He’s the same person who stole her sword.”

Fire flashes in my father’s eyes. “This savage lives in Skoro, you say?”

“He’s one of the most influential men there.”

“In other words, he’s rich.”

We both nod.

“But he’s only human?” Einar asks. “You’re sure?”

I shake my head. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

Harek sits up taller. “He is. Your palm didn’t glow at all when he and his thugs showed up. He was a danger to you, but your powers didn’t activate because he’s not fae.”

My mind spins, and I turn to my father, realizing once again that he looks like a male version of me. There’s no way we’re talking about two different Tyras. He even said I look just like her, which I don’t see how since I’m clearly a replica of him. “That’s how it works, right? My hand won’t do anything unless I’m in danger by a fae?”

“It isn’t so much about us being in danger as it is about being in proximity to an evil fae. That’s how we know who to kill in order to restore the balance of nature.”

“But what if there are several fae, and only one is evil?”

“Then we have to figure out who the evil one is. Or take them all out.”

I gasp. “Even if the others are good?”

“Sometimes it happens. But think about it, would a truly good fae be with one who is evil?”

“They might not know!”

“Your intuition will grow with time. I’m at the point of being able to tell almost immediately who the problems are in a group.”

“You don’t need the glow at all?”

“The glow can be useful when I need to throw something a long distance.”

“That is pretty cool.” I can’t help but grin.

Einar nods toward the cooling food. “We should eat. I know you two are hungry.”

“Right.” I grab one of the appetizers.

Harek doesn’t. “What about getting her sword back? You’re sure it will help her get the souls out?”

“One hundred percent.” My father pops some food into his mouth.

“Has it happened to you before?”

“Anytime I find myself without my sword and I have to kill someone.”

I glance at his weapon strapped to him. “Do you ever not have it on you?”

“Rarely. Most everyone knows who I am, so even if I go somewhere that doesn’t allow weapons, I’m typically given a pass. People appreciate what we do.”

“Kind of like being an officer,” Harek says.

“A what?” My father reaches for more food.

So do I. “You don’t have police?”

“We have jailers, but nobody patrols for lawbreakers when they have me.”

My stomach knots, and it has nothing to do with the souls trying to get out of me. If my father is so good at what he does, then I’m not necessary. If only Mother had chosen a different husband, I might have been able to live a quiet human life never knowing any better, never activating either of my fae sides.

Now they’re both active, and either one could get me killed.