Page 116 of The Silver Fox Vampire

“Now you’re talking in riddles,” Grayson huffed out. “I’m a man who likes facts.”

“I’ll explain over a whiskey sometime.”

“Deal. Finest malt only.” Grayson smirked. “Regardless, I’m happy for you both. I can vouch for married life… Though eternity…” Grayson whistled softly. “That’s a big ask.”

“I think we’re equipped for it.” Oliver smiled. He didn’t think, he knew. “Thank you, Grayson. And for all your help with the case.”

“My pleasure. You’ve brought the humans home, caught Matteus finally.” He grinned. “But gargoyles will always be superior to vampires, you know that right?”

“Egh, piss off.” Oliver fist-bumped Grayson’s granite bicep. “You may have size, but we have style, mate.”

CHAPTER 35

Clare sat on a bench in the graveyard next to her father. The sky glowed red on the horizon—the sun had set a while ago, but it was that last hurrah of summer that only October could deliver. Winter was around the corner. It was a time of year she had always loved—its gentle sadness had never worried her, and now she understood why.

Inside the family home next door, Oliver was helping her mom with the dishes after a very pleasant evening meal. She could hear their chatter, Oliver’s deep laugh and her mom’s mellow chuckle. Clare’s heart settled in her chest. Oliver and her mom were getting on famously by the sound of things.

The family had been remarkably cool about the fact she was romantically involved with a vampire—and her boss at that (soon to be ex-boss). They had agreed not to mention the small matter of him having turned her. Not with Trina there—she was prone to get hysterical, so they’d decided to tell her parents when the other guests had left.

But first, Clare needed to raise her necromancy heritage with her father.

“Dad, I have a question.”

“Yes, honey?”

Clare twisted her fingers in her lap. “I need to check out something about our family background.”

“Sure.”

“This may seem a strange question, but how old are you?”

She sensed her father glancing sideways at her. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve never said. And it seems like you don’t age much, and we’ve lived here a long time but there’s no real history of our family anywhere, apart from a few photographs. You and Mom never talk about the past. And we do seem to have been kept at a distance by the townsfolk.” She paused. “I used to get called a zombie at school, and honestly, I was always happiest right here in the graveyard. There were so many things that didn’t add up—until I found out that… I have necromancer blood in my veins.”

Her dad sat silent, staring at his hands in his lap.

“Dad? Did you know?”

“Yes, yes, I’ve known for many years,” he said quietly.

“And Mom? Is she… too?”

“Yes, she is also descended from necromancers, but she tries to deny it, even to herself, to fit in with the Tween wives. We met at college. A fortune teller at a fair told us soon after that we were necromancers. It made sense. Your grandparents on both sides were slightly odd folks who spent a lot of time chatting to dead souls and we have records that confirm our background. I never really thought much of it, and as you know, we’re all very comfortable being among the dead. As for age, I am ninety-seven, and your grandparents on both sides lived to be well over two hundred.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Your mom and I thought it would… make you and Adam feel different.”

“Dad, I always felt different. I always got treated differently as school.”

Her father sighed. “I know, sweetheart. I hoped in time things would normalize.”

“Who needs normal?” Clare huffed. “When I went to work in Motham, that was when I—I felt like I belonged for the first time. And then when I met Oliver, it was like it was meant to be.” She didn’t mention that maybe they had started off on the wrong footing; Dad didn’t need the details. “It sounds a bit woo woo, but it was like we were drawn to one another. He’s had such awful trauma in the past. He lost his family, they all died in the mass staking in 48,356.”

“I know,” her father said softly.

Clare’s head swiveled, eyes like saucers. “You know?! We didn’t discussthatover dinner.”