by Danae Ayusso
Surprisingly, no one said anything.
I figured the Van Zuls would have been laughing and cracking jokes, especially considering my mouthy brat of a child was black and they were crowned princes of the whitest state in the country. Instead, they were looking at me, waiting for me to continue. That’s the only way I can describe it.
Perhaps they were enjoying the show.
“We know what that’s like,” Draven said, and the others nodded their agreement, to my surprise. “Being children of immortals, of the damned, we’ve seen the loss over and over.”
“Sometimes it’s not loss that we’ve experienced personally,” Christian added. “It’s the loss that runs deep, to the very soul of He that created us, that haunts him and we’re stuck standing here questioning what we did to deserve his dismissal and inability to be a fucking father and parent.”
Kieran reassuringly patted his hand, offering a small smile.
Paul snorted, sulking down in his chair. “At least when your father bailed you knew why. Mine forgot to pull out. Isn’t that special? Then the fucker dumps me off on Soren… Father the year, huh?” he scoffed. “If Soren wouldn’t have taken me, Father was prepared to dump me out of the county so the Hellhounds would take care of the problem on my eighteenth birthday. Thanks, Dad. Nothing screams welcome to manhood like fighting for your life against hellhounds,” he grumbled, kicking at the chair in front of him.
Lizzy rolled her eyes. “Try being nothing more than a toy, a trinket, to wave in front of the other founding asshole of the curse to their family so you can boast of possessing something they don’t. Just to find out you’re nothing more than a lab fuck up,” she said. “To keep my mouth shut, I got three times what the assholes will in their trust funds and early access to it at sixteen. Isn’t that special? Like a whore, I was paid off. It shouldn’t surprise them that I’m pretty much a whore now because of it.”
Christian shook his head. “At least you put your whore mouth where your money is. I can’t touch my trust fund until I’m twenty-one. It was Émile’s way of making sure that he would always have a honey pot available if his ran out, as always. Pretend to give a damn about my drunk father so he can bleed his bank account dry again. Aw, family!”
“Or having bloody hellhounds rip them apart in front of their young sons because he was a bloody wanker that didn’t tell his wife and children the truth,” Bleu whispered with a thick English accent.
Everyone turned and looked at him with wide eyes.
That’s the first thing he’s said in the company of others?
And here I thought I had issues.
“Let us not forget,” Kieran added in a pained whisper, wiping the tears from his eyes, “the coward selfishly took the only person his sons would have in the world from them by jumping in the vessel of his unborn son to try to hide. Hellhounds aren’t daft. We watched them, their red demonic eyes followed father from his tattered vessel to the one within our mum.” He shook his head. “Mum’s screams I still hear when I close me eyes,” he said, struggling to catch his breath. “The taste of her blood I cannot wipe from me tongue… The nightmares that followed nearly killed both of us, and they were solely because our father was a bloody coward.”
Christian pulled Kieran into him and hugged him tight.
To my surprise, Kieran returned the embrace and buried his face against Christian’s shoulder and cried.
Interesting that white people dysfunctions are much like those in the hood, only more hellhoundy and preventable, it seems.
“Huh, maybe I’m not as messed up as I thought I was,” I mumbled.
Draven shook his head. “You are, but we make you look slightly saner,” he said with a wink.
I rolled my eyes. “Gee thanks, Man Whore.”
“Anytime, Training Bra, anytime,” he reminded me.
“Are you still mad about your truck?” I asked.
Shep looked over at me from the backseat of Bleu’s SUV.
“Stupid question,” I admitted. “I’m sorry someone did that.”
“It’s to be expected,” Shep grumbled under his breath, sulking down in the seat and pouted.
When we got to the parking lot to head home, all four of Shep’s tires were flat. I was pissed, but Shep just shook his head, as if he knew who did it and why. When I pressed it, he told me not to worry about it and he’d have his dad help him air them up and get his truck home. We caught a ride with Bleu and the others, and I could tell Shep was resolving the entire drive; I didn’t know the details, but I had a bad feeling I would be the one getting stuck in the middle and hurt because of it.
The puppy will get over it. How was De’Von really? We can read between the lines, especially when our boy is involved. He’s scheming something, isn’t he?
If I had to venture an educated guess, yes. De’Von is plotting something but I don’t know what. If he gets his round butt kicked out of school I will be making a road trip to Philly to kick his ass.
We can only blame our self. He’s our mini-me in every way.
I know. But I was hoping that he’d understand why I can’t be there now. It isn’t safe for us in Philly.
Was it ever?
Point, but not the point at the moment. We’re almost eighteen, a legal adult, that wouldn’t even have had a G.E.D. to fall back on. Not to mention, whatever those douchebags looking for us want. We should consider ourselves lucky that Price isn’t like Paul’s father. I can’t believe he was going to abandon his son so he was… Oh whoa.
Holy shit.
That’s putting it mildly.
If Mr. Smith wouldn’t have…
Found Dad we would have been torn apart when we turned eighteen.
Holy shit! That’s major, Sis.
I know. We really need to figure out what the hell the restrictions and specification of this curse are before we accidentally get ourselves killed!
I’m in complete agreement this time.
“Mikhail?”
My head snapped to the side then I looked around, confused.
I was home, parked in the driveway, and I was sitting in the backseat of the SUV, alone. My door was open and Price was standing there, looking at me.
“Justice?” he pressed, confused.
“We’re here… We would have been killed, wouldn’t we have?” we blurted out.
Price gave us a look. “Shep wouldn’t have driven with four flats, Girls. He’s already headed back with Nick to air them up. If they were sliced this time, I’ll have words with the one I know is responsible and make him pay for them, again.”
I shook my head. “Not that. If Mr. Smith wouldn’t have found you, wouldn’t have gotten me here before our birthday, we would have been ripped apart by hellhounds, wouldn’t we have?”
Shock by my words was quickly replaced by guilt and his face dropped. He motioned for me to slide over and he joined me in the backseat.
This is bad.
I nodded my agreement.
“What brought that up?” Price asked, his eyes moving over me many times.
This isn’t embarrassing in the least.
“English Lit.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he pointed out. “Unless the curriculum has greatly changed since I was a student at Anaconda High.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ha ha, funny man.”
“You appreciate my sense of humor even if it isn’t as juvenile as your uncle’s is.”
It was a good tension breaker, I’ll give him that.
“We have to share our English Lit block… The brats of the founding families,” I explained and he nodded. “Principal Wallace thought she’d exercise her street-founded-evil-genius by putting all of us together and making us play nice in the sandbox otherwise we’re out. Apparently, the others don’t get their trust funds or something, so money’s their reason.”
“And yours?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Making you proud,” I admitted and he smiled. “Because of the crackwhore, y
ou lost out on so many firsts that I don’t want to be responsible for having you miss the rest. I want to make you proud to call us your daughter. I signed up for mythology in hopes of spending more time in the library my father built,” I teased and he chuckled, tears flooding his eyes. “I also wanted to learn more about what we are, what we were cursed to be without appearing as if I was. I hate not being the smartest person in the room. With you, I understand and I’m completely accepting of that. But with everyone else it’s not acceptable.”
“Humble,” Price teased.
“We’ll call it my sin of choice,” I agreed with a wink and he laughed. “I was hoping to find answers today, to wrap my head around the mythical info-dump you bestowed upon me last night, and that Grams gave me as well, but I found no answers and only more questions.”
He nodded his understanding. “What can I answer for you?” he asked.
This is what we wanted. Daddy’s the only person that’s allowed to be smarter than us. Got it?
I nodded.
“Why is my mask different?” I whispered, looking away from him.
Price coaxed me by the chin so I was looking at him. “When did it present in a means that you could see it?” he asked, concerned.
I snorted. “Funny you should mention that. Draven kissed me without my consent.”
He growled, eyes solid black and burning with rage, hands balled into fists on his lap.
“Calm down, Daddy,” we scolded. “It was a kiss that lasted a second and a concussion that lasted for a few hours in return. In case you missed it, I can totally kick his ass.”
Price nodded, his eyes returning to normal.
“Why are my eyes solid white when the mask of the damned presents? That isn’t normal. Draven said that Soren is tripping out about it, and that the look on your face when you first saw it was confirmation that you’ve never seen anything like it either. That leads me to believe that there’s something wrong with me, because it isn’t normal. Should I be concerned? Should we? Do Soren’s concerns have merit, Dad?”
Price sighed, shaking his head.
Yeah, that’s never a good sign.
I agree.
I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them, waiting for the worst.
The things you do to him.
I know. I’m trying though.
And that’s the only reason why I haven’t pushed you out of this conversation yet.
Bitch.
Jerk.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to admit that Soren Van Zul, of all creatures, was right about something either.”
Price chuckled, nodding his agreement. “Yes, we haven’t ever seen anything like it from one of those in our damned family trees,” he admitted, choosing his words carefully.
We have to go about this from a different angle. He’s too smart and mentally editing everything. We need filterless Daddy.
I agree. He’s keeping something from us.
“Okay, so if we look at it from the obvious difference in me and the others,” I said and he cocked an eyebrow. “I’m the only heir from the loins of the Simoeau side of the curse, and Draven is the only heir from the loins of the Van Zul side of the curse. Draven’s mask is the same as the others and his eyes are black just as his soul is, I’m sure. My mask is the same as theirs, only my skin takes on more of a gray pallor and the orbital sockets darken a bit. The major difference though, that I can tell, is my eyes are pure white.”
Price shook his head in aspiration; he knew what we are doing. “Tone noted.”
“We would be greatly insulted if it were missed.”
“Very funny, Girls,” he scolded.
We smiled wide.
“There are various mythical creatures and races whose eyes are white on white,” he said.
So we’re like the little bitch in the woods?
That’d suck.
Our breath is not that bad.
I hope not.
“Since no female has been born from either cursed tree, I’m not saying loins,” he informed us and we giggled, “there’s no way to compare the differences between male and female. Is it painful?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t even feel when it happens. My vision changes, almost as if it becomes sharper and focuses on my target. I can still see movement and everything around me, as if my peripheral vision is still sharp and clear, but my only concern is what’s in front of me. Is that normal?”
He chewed on his bottom lip, obviously that’s where we got that bad habit.
“Yes and no,” he eventually said. “Nick says that it’s predatory vision. He went through a veterinary faze for a decade or two. But the older you get the more you’ll be able to control it.”
I laughed. “Justice is so screwed!”
Shut up. I can control my temper when I need to… Shut up.
Price chuckled. “You’ll both be able to control it if you work together. No more fighting and it’ll come naturally.”
That was directed towards you.
No, it wasn’t.
Yes, it was.
“Why can’t I move with mad ninja skills and speed like you and the others? Or mess with people’s heads like the Van Zuls? I know they’re different and the mythical redheaded stepchildren of the Lares, but it appears that I’m broken because I can’t do shit. Y’know, due to my lack of super damned powers. Could you imagine? The ability to fly or shoot lightning from my fingertips would have been awesome,” I sang the latter, and he chuckled. “Hell, I’d settle for shooting lightning bolts out my ass at this point.”
Price shook his head in aspiration. “You girls aren’t broken in the least; damned side or mental well-being.”
That’s another thing to bring up.
Not right now.
“Females are different, and the curse could affect you differently when it comes to characteristics of the damned that we’re experienced with. There might be something completely unique about you that the others, that I, will never know or experience because of your gender. It isn’t a bad thing. You’re more special than you could possibly imagine.”
I groaned. “Great, we do need a shiny yellow helmet,” I grumbled.
He shook his head. “No. You’re what I’ve been waiting centuries for. Just have patience, and you’ll grow into the person you are meant to be. Over the next couple of years you might notice additional differences or changes, but it isn’t anything to worry about.”
Bullshit! That’s always what the doctors say before they pull the sheet over the body. They act as if it’s totally normal and that everything is great and happening how it’s supposed and the next thing you know we’re at a fucking funeral.
“We politely disagree,” I said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Every time someone says not to be concerned with something, or they say that it’s natural and going accordingly, we end up burying someone.”
Price’s face dropped. “You aren’t going to have to bury anyone, Girls. If you must know, that’s what I’m not looking forward to.”
“Huh?”
“Burying my daughters,” he whispered, looking at his hands. “For so many lifetimes I have watched my brothers experience elation from holding their child in their arms, but much too quickly melancholia consumes them when they lay their child to rest. It doesn’t matter if the child was born still or if they saw ninety years of life. The heart wrenching result is always the same. When you pass, I do not know how I will handle that… If I’ll be able to handle it at all, which I’m not convinced I can. There’s so much that we missed out on, so much time lost that we can never get back and it floods my heart with hatred towards your mother…” his words trailed off and a tear rolled down his cheek, his eyes solid black.
That’s where we get the temper.
Yeah, kind of scary.
“I’m terrified that I’ll get a call saying there was an accident and you didn’t make it. That someone took you from me,
that they hurt you… Every snapping twig in the woods, every quiet night when owls would be hooting and crickets chirping causes me to be even more vigilant and protective. I’ve slept less since learning of your existence than ever before, and I know it’ll only get worse the older you get.”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “I promise you, Dad, I’m not that easy to kill. You’re stuck with me for quite some time.”
He chuckled before kissing the top of my head. “I pray that’s true. The worst, I fear, quickly approaches.”
Uh, what is he talking about?
Beats the hell out of me. Dignity card?
Dignity card.
“Daddy, what are you going on about?” I asked. “Am I going to grow a third eye or something? Oh God, please tell me that my boobs aren’t going to grow… Wait, that’d be a good thing,” I said, looking down at my baggy tank top that would have looked much better with some boobs to fill it out.
He leaned back and looked at me with wide eyes.
“Draven said they’re rather small, and that it would be completely acceptable in modern society and understandable to go under the knife,” I said with a shrug.
I’m sure it was all for show since Draven went from ignoring me to demanding my attention when I was talking with Shep in shop.
Yeah, that French fuck doesn’t like to share.
Not that I’ve noticed.
“I mean, I’m content with them,” I assured him. “I’ve come to terms that I’ll always be the founder and C.E.O. of the Itty Bitty Titty Club. Sure, having slightly bigger boobs would make me look more like a woman and less like a twelve-year-old boy with purple highlights, but it’s okay. I couldn’t imagine the back pain that has to be involved with having tits that are as big as Dillon’s. Good God! I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for her wide ass, she’d be top heavy. Sorry, I’m rambling. I do that when I’m hungry and tired, and talking about my boobs with my dad is the icing on the cake. It’s beyond awkward.”
