Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
“I meant to have this conversation with you before Ilya arrived, because he might not talk much, but he always seems to say the wrong thing.” Franklin sighed as he settled into the recliner with almost a plop. “Please sit.”
Henri gestured to the one other chair in the room, a simple wood one in the corner, with a surprisingly delicate design on the back, and he took the edge of the bed. Duncan curled up at my feet, having demolished the rest of his trachea before we’d come inside. The elder set his palms flat on his legs, his eyes watchful as he took in the pup and then me.
He was uncomfortable. There was no denying that.
I had so many questions.
“He told you?” the elder finally asked, catching my eyes full-on.
That was a strange opening question. “All he told me was to ask you about my DNA dad, because he made it seem like you should be the one to answer my questions,” I replied, watching him closely. Franklin had hazel eyes, a proud nose, and skin a particular shade of honey that wasn’t light or brown, but somewhere in between. His ancestry could have been from dozens of different places, I thought again. But the surface of his skin was oddly smooth, and if he colored his hair, I wondered what age he would actually look like.
Franklin nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. At his knees, he wiggled his fingers. He was nervous. “I didn’t mean to avoid this conversation, but….”
“But?” Henri piped in from the bed. He sounded irritated.
The elder shot him a side look. “I convinced myself I could put it off.” He almost harrumphed. He was building this up big-time.
He was definitely hiding something, and it sure felt freaking huge.
“What are you not telling me?” I went right out and asked.
Franklin’s fingers fidgeted some more.
I gestured toward them. “I’ll be specific. What is that bracelet keeping from everyone?” If he thought I was going to take it easy on the questions, he was delusional. This was the most personal question I had ever asked in my life, and I couldn’t find it in me to regret it.
The elder hesitated before picking at his wrist, then folding up his sleeve and revealing two bands of a variety of obsidian beads linked together with a gold chain and clasp. From the color of the gold, it wasn’t 14 carat either. He turned his wrist one way and then another. Those hazel eyes flicked up to meet mine, and he seemed to come to a decision. The fingers of his free hand came over the top, and he undid one clasp after another with surprising dexterity and ease, taking them off, then setting both on the table beside him.
It was like being swallowed by a tidal wave.
His magic… it was strong and subtle at the same time. Not a punch like Duncan’s mom’s or my old neighbor’s had been, there was a smoothness to it that was unlike theirs.
From my feet, Duncan rose up like the dead in a single, fluid motion, ears up high, posture straight. His tail did that candlestick thing it did, though the color of it didn’t change.
On the bed, Henri shot up to stand. “You son of a bitch,” he just about spat.
The elder rolled his eyes before picking his bracelets up and putting them back on.
“What is it?” I asked, fully aware that I was missing something. He was some kind of long-lived being, all right, but I figured he’d been a god from some ancient, small pagan religion.
Henri’s teeth were gritted as he glared. “Tell her right now or I will.”
So it was like that, huh?
Franklin glared at Henri before he focused on me again and said in a very careful voice, “First, I want you to understand, that I, at no point, was aware of your existence”—I sat up, and Duncan peeked at me over his shoulder, sending me “love,” and I leaned over to pet him—“until you arrived here. If I had known you were in the world, I would have found you, child,” he warned.
The way he said “child”….
“Cut to the chase,” Henri growled low, still standing.
There was a pause. Then, “You and I are family,” Franklin admitted, staring straight into my eyes when he did.
Henri scoffed, but I couldn’t look at him.
Franklin wasn’t nervous, I realized at that moment. He was being cautious, but not because there was any dread going through his body. No, he wasn’t afraid. The elder kept right on meeting my gaze as he said, “Your father is my brother. I’m your uncle, Nina.”
I hadn’t seen that coming, not in any way, in any universe, in any kind of folktale, and I could feel it on my face and in my soul as my eyes widened.