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“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Pollux doesn’t lift his hand. “I appreciate the invitation. This will be a new experience for us.”
“Fish!” Andromeda cheers, eyes massive. She dances on the tips of her toes and stares into the living room where my father’s seventy-gallon tank makes itself the centerpiece of the far wall. She whips her attention up to Pollux, then back to the tank.
Dad lowers his hand and crouches in front of Andromeda. “Greetings, half-pint. Would you like to say hi to the fish?”
“They talk?”
He laughs. “Well, we can find out. What’s your name?”
She rocks on her heels. “Andromeda.”
“Wow. That’s a big name for a half-pint.”
“If it’s too hard, you can call me Meda. That’s what Mrs. Role calls me.”
My father’s brows rise. “Mrs. Role? My wife is already giving you nicknames?”
Andromeda’s head lops to one side. She points at me. “Mrs. Role.”
“Ahh, I see. Mrs. is used for married women. Did you know that?”
Andromeda’s head bobs. “Yes.”
“My daughter isn’t married.” Dad oh-so-subtly glances at Pollux. “Yet.”
“Dad,” I hiss.
Andromeda looks at her father, and something unspoken passes between them. A moment later, she’s tugging my father into the living room. “Fish!”
He laughs. “Okay, okay. Let’s learn about the fish.”
Left alone in the hall with Pollux, I try to release a breath, but it gets stuck.
“Does your kitten have a name yet?” he asks, lowly.
I hug my flowers and give up the big, bad secret. “Chai.”
“You must really like the drink.”
“Mmhm…” I clear my throat as scandalous red fills my skank cheeks. “He’s been banished to my room all day, so we could cook without fur getting in the food.”
“Do your parents know where he came from?”
A nervous laugh exits me. “Oh, absolutely not.” I am, at this point in time, willing to believe you only drink recreationally and are a bit of an obsessive connoisseur, but I have no plans to reveal the fact you gave me a random kitten while you were drunk at a Halloween party. I don’t even know why you were at the Halloween party because your cult doesn’t seem to approve of holidays. You’re welcome. I replay the Oh, absolutely not that I actually said, not what my brain monologued, and stiffen. “Not to be rude. It’s just… It was very interesting, and sudden, how I got him.”
“So they believe he’s an average pet. I see. That explains things.”
What…things, exactly, does that explain?
He changes the subject before I even begin to know how to phrase my question. “I spoke with Willow in an effort to learn what behaviors might be acceptable today.”
I fiddle with a soft petal on one sunflower. “O…kay?”
“She told me to bring the flowers, but your mother’s response makes me question the other information I have been provided.”
I am scared. I don’t know exactly why. I just know I am. My brief meetings with Willow lead me to believe, of everyone in Pollux’s cult, she is the one least likely to be trusted. “What other information did she tell you?”
“She mentioned that after the bird has been killed and dismantled, I may be asked to break its bones. I hope that all bird-killing-related activities are suspended, given that it would be wasteful to kill something you don’t eat? Or, perhaps, your parents are not also vegetarian, and I might need to fortify myself for this request?” His eyes narrow. “If that is the case, I shall do my best to pulverize every vertebra.”
