Page 84 of Hybrid Heroics

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Sam asked in exasperation.

“Because she doesn’t want to think about it,” Rig repeated. “You guys really don’t listen, do you?”

“Suck up,” Charlie muttered.

Rig touched his chest. “Understanding parent.”

Sloane chuckled, climbing to her feet. “Anyway, we have some time before he gets here, so make yourselves at home. There are new cigars in the library. Lucy stole the last box I had. I haven’t called them; I’ve been on the fence about it. I’m sure Lil would love to get her hands dirty, though.”

Amelia furrowed her brows. “If you’re just having dinner—”

“Ahh.” Sloane held her hand up. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Nate mumbled.

“So, call them or no?” Sam asked. “I need a straight answer to that.”

“Whatever you want,” she replied, pulling me to my feet. “But if they come, it needs to be soon or after dinner. Not during. And they need to be in the basement with you while Alric is here.”

Charlie sighed in frustration. “Anything else we should do before—”

“Nope,” Sloane quickly cut him off. “We’ve got it covered.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “She’s got it covered. Franklin and the guys are doing the rest.”

“Don’t feel bad for him,” Nate assured me. “I guarantee you the ancient vampire is enjoying every bit of it.”

“He understands her better than most,” I mentioned. “Do you know why?”

Her father smiled. “He’ll tell her when he’s ready.”

“I don’t like when that’s turned around on me,” Sloane admitted, frowning at him.

“I know, Dearest Lo,” Nate whispered to her, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “But he asked me to let him tell you. It’s not my story.”

Thursday, June 25th

Afternoon

Sloane came twirling into the kitchen like a tropical storm waiting to transform into a category five hurricane right under our noses. There would be no warning, no time to board up the windows…

She was inching toward a change that York couldn’t exactly articulate. He could only forewarn that it was coming.

Whatever she was up to right now wasn’t part of that change. I could tell it was fucked up, but outside of that… I couldn’t tell which way this storm was about to blow.

She smiled at me, wearing a mask of perfected—though extremely fake—innocence as she handed me a cold package.

“Remember that favor I asked for? I need you to cook this.”

I shook my head as I opened it, then I stared in confusion at the contents of the brown freezer paper.

“Why are you asking me to cook meat? You don’t eat it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of eating that,” she remarked, appearing disgusted. “It’s not for me. It’s for Alric.”

“Why?” I asked. “What is it?”

She rolled her lips in, like she didn’t want to answer, before tilting her head to the left. “It’s going to be great. You’ll see.”