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Chapter Sixteen  

O

nce everything settled down, Dad got straight down to business. While I attempted to spoon soup with my non-dominant hand, he wove the sort of story I’d expect someone would tell their kids to try to scare them, only every bit of what he said was true.

“So, I’ve known about lycanthropes for…” Dad whistled, rubbing his hand through thinning hair. “Lord, since Gram-Gram taught me to shoot at eight. She saw it as a family business of sorts, helping folks since we came over to colonize with the unexplainable.”

“Suddenly, Gram-Gram’s extensive collection of guns makes sense,” I joked weakly. “Then… you’ve always known.”

Dad nodded.

“And you kept it from me?”

He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes turned away. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know I should’ve, I just didn’t know how to explain it. I never thought I had to, truthfully, since you wanted to stay with Mom.”

A squirm of guilt ran through my stomach, souring whatever soup I’d managed to keep down. “Dad…”

“I don’t want you feeling guilty about that,” he added quickly. “If anything, it was a relief. Leaving the business didn’t erase any enemies I made, and I knew you’d be safe with your mom.”

“Was she one, too?” I asked. “A hunter, I mean.”

Dad shook his head slowly, a small smile playing across his face. “Let’s just say you get your deductive reasoning skills from her. But then you came along, and we had some,” he paused, a somber look passing across his face, “disagreements. About what I should do with what I know. She was right, in the end; you should’ve known about it all.” He sighed, shifting around the side of my bed. “I just wasn’t comfortable with it. Throwing you into such a violent world; I wanted you to have the choice I didn’t get.”

I stirred my spoon around bits of noodle and broth, mind still whirling from questions and the concussion. There was so much to ask, and I finally had the chance to do so. Yet, my mind was frazzled, completely blanking out.

“Is… there anything you want to ask me about?” Dad asked gently.

Of course there was. I just couldn’t get my brain to cooperate. “Did Mom die because of a bite?”

Again, Dad seemed to have been expecting the question. “Mom died of natural causes, sweetheart. Nothing to do with the supernatural. Just—” His voice caught slightly, and he rubbed his face with the back of his palm as he cleared his throat. “Just unlucky, is all.”

“And Clyde’s dad? You weren’t—I mean, that wasn’t…?” The question flew out before I realized how awful it sounded.

Dad just chuckled lightly. “It’s okay, Aria. I’m used to being the first suspect.” He straightened slightly, as if uncomfortable reliving the memory. “Both Duskfall and the Northerners know how hard I fought to protect him. This is my proof.” He gestured to the scar across his lip.

I abandoned my soup on the nightstand, gingerly shifting in bed as a small twinge of pain shot down my bandaged shoulder. “So, I guess that explains your obsession with me carrying a pocketknife?”

That got a laugh out of Dad, something he sorely needed.

A light knock came on the door as Nurse Aurora’s face poked around the frame. “Hello, again! If it is alright, I have a sling to place around Aria’s shoulder?”

“O-oh, yes, of course.” Dad quickly stood and moved toward the window, giving Nurse Aurora space to work. She practically glided across the room, a black fabric literally drifting behind her, and I couldn’t help but make a slight face.

“So… we’re just gonna assume I’m okay with every weird thing, now?” I asked, expression deadpan as I turned to Dad.

He gave me a blank stare back, only to let out a slight gasp. “Oh, right! I’m sorry, sweetheart—Aurora, I didn’t have the chance to explain witches just yet.”

A small smile crossed Nurse Aurora’s face as the sling settled into her hands, followed soon after by a peal of giggles. “Oh, I am terribly sorry. It is not often I can ‘stretch the muscles,’ as it were.”

She made careful emphasis to keep the sling in hand while gently slipping my robe back off my chest. Dad looked out the window sheepishly while the cast was strapped onto me, not that I could blame the guy. Who really wanted to see their teenage daughter’s chest?

“Okay, so, magic,” I began.

Nurse Aurora beamed, waving her hand as a simple long-sleeve seemingly stitched itself onto my person. “Wonderful, is it not? But I can assure you, I am very much still human.” She then began fitting the cast against my shoulder, a faint aura hovering around that seemingly dulled the pain. “I have simply been touched by the otherworldly, gifted to see and influence that which exists around us.”

Again, I turned to Dad for a translation, knowing full well he could sense the desperation on my face.

“Magic,” he stated plainly into the windowpane. “Aurora was born with magical abilities. There’s a few folks around Ayersville with the gift; it’s not really something I get too much myself.”

“At least we’re in the same boat,” I joked.

With one more gentle tug, Nurse Aurora stepped away from my bed, inspecting my new cast with scrutiny. “Alright, that should keep the shoulder in place for healing. Mr. Harvey?”

Dad didn’t make a move to turn around.

“She is covered, now,” Nurse Aurora added. “If you would like, I can allow Aiden to come in and visit?”