Page 224 of Deadfall

EMERSYN

We hadn’t even been back at Alpha One for a full twenty-four hours and I was already down in the forest behind the house. The pine scent wrapped around me in a comfortable way that managed to seep deep into my bones. My throat closed and my knees folded. I sank into the pine needles with reverence—grateful that I was home at last. When I heard familiar footsteps, I stood up and brushed debris from my knees.

“Should you be up walking?” I asked without turning.

My father scoffed roughly. “You better not be calling me old,” he warned.

I grinned and turned toward him. “I meant because of your injury.”

“I’m hurt, not dead.” He looked around us at the trees and the soft light of the afternoon, as it filtered in great sheets through the foliage. “It really is beautiful back here.”

His gaze settled back onto me and he jerked his head at the house.

“Walk back with me?” He asked. “Dinner is nearly ready.”

I fell into step with him as we picked up a path back to the treeline.

“It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”

My father hummed in agreement. “Yes, well, Nyx insisted.”

“I thought he didn’t like to cook for this many people?”

The house was packed. Arkady had decided to stay for a few more days, as well as Knight and Cal’s team. Even King’s group decided to stay for another week before they flew back to Florence.

“He doesn’t,” my father grumbled. “I told him to cater it—he refused—said we could do it this once, then refused all help and kicked everyone out of the kitchen. Then, a few minutes ago, he ran out—nearly in a panic—and said we had to eat in fifteen minutes—” My father shook his head while I bit back a smile. “Something about how he mistimed something. I don’t know. I learned not to ask questions.”

We emerged from the trees and started the trek up to the house. I could already hear the conversations drift down toward us from outside, where people sat with beers near the pool.

“Oh, I should warn you, the Russians are here for dinner,” my father said.

“Warn me?”

My father’s lips twitched in a small smile. “I’m sure they’ll drill you with inappropriate questions about your stay with a certain Russian spy.”

“Ah, alright, that should be fun.”

“Just tell them to fuck off if you don’t want to talk about any of it,” my father said.

“No, it’s fine. I–I miss him,” I said.

“You know if you ever want to go back there to visit, we can do that.”

I nodded, because I’d thought about it. I missed the forest I grew up in. The mountains and the river that had healed me, and the trees that had taught me more about myself than anything else ever could.

“I think I’d like that actually,” I admitted.

My father nodded. “I think I would too,” he said.

I turned to him in surprise and he shrugged. “I’d like to meet the man who raised my daughter.”

“Well, you know he’s dead,” I said dryly.

My father slipped his arm around my shoulders and kissed the side of my head.

“I know, but I’d like to pay my respects.” He smiled. “Maybe cuss him out for putting you through SERE—”

“Hey, I pretty much forced him to do that,” I said.