Affliction ab-22

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Affliction ab-22 Page 11

by Laurell K. Hamilton


  I did the only thing I could think of under the circumstances; I went forward and offered my hand. He could ignore it and be utterly rude, or he could shake it. He looked surprised for a second, and then he took my hand. He didn’t seem to know how to shake hands with a girl, or maybe it was me being the girl with Micah. Either way it was a step forward from him just refusing.

  ‘This is Nathaniel Graison,’ Micah said.

  Nathaniel followed my example and Jerry shook his hand, too. He gave Nathaniel a firmer handshake; maybe he was recovering from the surprise of us being polite?

  Micah came up behind us, closer to his brother. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come home sooner.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’

  ‘I thought you’d hate me, so there didn’t seem to be much point.’

  Jerry’s eyes were shiny. ‘Well, you’re right, I do hate you. You said terrible things to Mom and Dad.’

  ‘I know I can’t explain it, but I didn’t feel I had a choice.’ Micah’s voice was a little thick now, as if Jerry weren’t the only one whose eyes were shiny. I fought not to look at him, not to move too much, as if moving would ruin things.

  ‘Dad’s friends with a Fed. He said that he saw files about what would have happened to us if you hadn’t convinced some bad-guy shapeshifter that you hated us.’

  Again, I wondered how in the hell any Fed knew that and where the information had come from. But now wasn’t the time to ask, and Jerry wouldn’t know anyway. I wasn’t sure if I was looking forward to meeting this friendly Fed or dreading it.

  ‘I saw him do terrible things to other families. I couldn’t risk it.’

  ‘You did a good job of making us think you hated us. Mom cried for weeks, and Beth didn’t hear it, so she didn’t believe you’d said it, any of it. She thought we were lying, because we thought you being a wereleopard made you too dangerous. She thought we’d kicked you out for years.’

  ‘I don’t know if I could have said all I needed to say if Beth had been there.’

  ‘I know you couldn’t have. No way could you have looked her in the face and been so … cruel. You were her favorite brother even though you hunted and killed things with Dad, and she hated that, but she still loved you more.’

  ‘She didn’t love me more, Jerry; she loved me different, that’s all.’

  ‘You lying bastard.’ His voice held the tears a moment before the first of them slid down his cheek. His voice was choking on his tears when he said, ‘I hate you, you lying bastard.’

  ‘I know,’ Micah said, and something I heard in his voice made me have to look at his face so I could see the tears falling down his face.

  It was Jerry who made the first move forward, but Micah didn’t wait for more. They were suddenly hugging, clinging to each other and crying. Jerry was still calling him a lying bastard, but somewhere in all the name-calling I heard Micah say, ‘I love you, too.’

  14

  When both men had dried their tears enough so they could pretend they hadn’t been crying, Jerry took us to the family waiting room. It had a few couches, chairs, a coffee table full of magazines that almost no one ever read, and a few paintings on the walls, everything in colors that were supposed to be cheerful, or soothing, but never really were. It looked like a hundred other waiting rooms I’d seen, where I’d go to talk to families or police about the person in the other room, in surgery, and what had attacked them. To police it was, How do we hunt it down and kill it? To families of victims it was, What can you tell me that will help me hunt it down and kill it? It was a room like so many others, except this one had some of Micah’s family in it, and that made it unique and strangely more intimidating. We might never walk down an aisle together, but Micah was a permanent part of my life and I was as happy as I’d ever been. Wedding band or not, these strangers were my potential in-laws. Scary, even to us tough-as-nails vampire hunters.

  Micah’s mom had the same big pale blue-gray eyes as Jerry, and she looked like him, or rather he looked like her. Her shoulder-length hair was the same tight curls, but the color was paler brown, on the borderline between ash brown and sandy blond. She had that clear, soft shade of skin that only nature and some very fun genetics give you. She looked a little more ethnic than her sister, but not by much. Her full lips were lipsticked and her makeup was perfect, but she wasn’t wearing that much and if I hadn’t known she was Micah’s mom I would not have put her over fifty, but she had to be, didn’t she? She was heavier than she’d probably been when she was younger, but it was mostly just more curves, so it looked good on her. A nicely tailored suit flattered the fuller figure rather than hid it, which I liked a lot. She was voluptuous, exotic, and beautiful, and Micah’s mom. She was also a hugger.

  She enveloped Micah in a hug like he was the last solid thing in the world and she was holding on for dear life. We caught snatches of what she was saying through the tears: ‘So glad you’re home … your dad will be so happy … love you …’

  Micah said the only things he could: ‘Love you, and I’m sorry.’ He said other things, but they were mostly lost to his mother’s crying. Nathaniel probably heard more of it, but he stood there holding my hand and waited for the emotional storm to abate enough for us to matter. Dev and Nicky had moved back to the entrance to the waiting area. There was only one way in, so they could guard just fine from there, and give us room for the family reunion at the same time. It was bodyguard multitasking at its best.

  Micah extracted himself enough to say, ‘Mom, this is Anita, and Nathaniel.’

  She hugged me to her, and I had to let go of Nathaniel’s hand to return the hug. She started crying again, saying, ‘Thank you, thank you for bringing Mike home! Thank you so much.’

  I mumbled, ‘You’re welcome,’ and tried to figure out how soon I could break free of the hug and still be polite. My face was buried in her shoulder because in her heels she was at least five foot nine and I hadn’t had time to go on tiptoe to keep from being smashed in the hug.

  Jerry said, ‘Let her breathe, Mom.’

  She pulled back, laughing a little, dabbing at her eyes with her well-manicured hands. ‘I’m sorry; I’m a hugger, so just a warning.’

  In my head I thought, Too late for the warning, but on the surface I smiled and nodded, because I had nothing useful to say. People took it wrong if you told them not to touch you in situations like this, so I’d learned to smile and keep my mouth shut.

  Micah drew Nathaniel forward. ‘Mom, this is Nathaniel Graison.’ He didn’t add my significant other like he had with Cousin Juliet. It was harder sometimes with parents.

  His mom looked at Nathaniel, then looked at Micah for a clue as to who he was to him.

  Micah took Nathaniel’s hand and my hand, took a deep breath, and said, ‘Nathaniel is our live-in partner.’

  A look that I couldn’t interpret crossed her face, and then she hugged Nathaniel as tightly and completely as she had me. He hesitated for a second, then returned the hug, his face a little puzzled, but smiling over her shoulder.

  She said, ‘So happy to meet you and Anita both; you have no idea how happy I am to meet my son’s friends.’

  Micah and I exchanged a look. I tried to say with my eyes, Well, that went well. I was betting my stepmom wouldn’t do nearly as well with it, but then again, Micah had been convinced his mom wouldn’t do this well with Nathaniel. Maybe our parents were more grown up than we gave them credit for?

  Micah’s mom drew back from the hug, and I heard Nathaniel say, ‘I’m glad to meet you, too, really.’ He was smiling, happy and relieved, because none of us had been betting on it going this well.

  A tall man came up behind Micah’s mom. He was over six feet by a few inches, completely bald, with what amounted to five o’clock shadow in a thin pale half-circle on his scalp to show that he had started shaving his head after he went bald, rather than as a fashion statement. His eyebrows were thick, nearly black, and arched over dark-rimmed glasses. His eyes were a bright, clear blue. His
dark suit, pale blue shirt, and dark tie fit his slender frame well and helped bring out the blue of his eyes and the stark paleness of his skin. The glasses and the baldness distracted me from the rest of his face, so it took a moment to realize he was handsome.

  He put his hands on Micah’s mom’s shoulders in a gesture that, though innocent, was totally a couple gesture. I felt, more than saw, Micah tense. ‘So glad you could be here, Mike,’ the tall man said, and held out his hand.

  Micah took the hand. ‘I’m glad I could be here, too.’ He turned back to me and said, ‘Anita, Nathaniel, this is Tyson Morgan, my mom’s … husband.’

  I had my own stepmom so I knew the awkward moment when you wanted to acknowledge them but not claim them as your parent.

  Micah’s stepdad’s hand was big with long, thin fingers to match the rest of his lanky frame. He smiled. ‘Dr Tyson Morgan. I teach at the college with Bea.’

  ‘Anita Blake, U.S. Marshal.’

  His mouth quirked, like a small, lopsided smile, and then he shook his head, more at himself, I think. ‘I guess I’m prouder than I should be of being Dr Morgan, sorry, but please call me Ty.’

  ‘No need to be sorry, it’s a big accomplishment. Doctor of what, since you teach at the college?’

  ‘American literature,’ he said.

  Micah was searching the other people in the waiting room. ‘Where’s Beth?’

  ‘She’s at home with the other kids,’ Ty said.

  ‘Twain has to be what, fourteen now?’ Micah said.

  They both nodded. ‘And Hawthorne is twelve,’ Bea said.

  I fought to keep my thoughts off my face. Twain and Hawthorne; I realized that the kids were named after Mark Twain and Nathaniel Hawthorne, both American authors, but names like that were usually reserved for cats that lived in the literature building, not for children. Twain was tolerable, but Hawthorne, for a boy? Elementary school must have been brutal.

  Bea added, ‘We have two more now; did you know that from our Facebook page?’

  Micah shook his head. ‘I go online mostly for business. Two more? Boys or girls?’

  ‘One of each,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘How old?’ he asked.

  ‘Frost is six and Fen is four.’

  Micah looked past them to Jerry. He shrugged. ‘There’s a lot of catching up to do.’ He held up his left hand and we saw the wedding band for the first time.

  ‘Who to, and how long?’ Micah asked.

  ‘Someone new; she’s a nurse here at the hospital, her name’s Janet. Less than two years. Before you ask, I did marry Kelsey after high school. It lasted about two years and didn’t work from the start. Janet and I are doing good.’

  ‘I don’t even know what you do for a living,’ Micah said.

  ‘Work at a local engineering firm. I work with Janet’s brother. That’s how we met. How long have you … all been together?’

  ‘Almost three years,’ Micah said, and he smiled and took my hand again. He hesitated only a moment and took Nathaniel’s hand in his other hand. I had a moment to see a defiant look on his face, as if daring them to criticize. Our patient, diplomatic Micah was more aggressive around his family, more like me. It explained a lot of his patience with me early on.

  Jerry’s face didn’t quite know what expression to have, but his mother beamed at us as if we’d told her she was getting a grandchild or something. Ty’s entire body language relaxed, some tension going out of him that I didn’t understand. He was smiling. Acceptance was great; this level of happy made me wonder what I’d missed. I was always suspicious if something was too good to be true; it wasn’t an old saying for nothing. I’d come into the world with a healthy dose of cynicism, and being with the police for six years hadn’t done anything to persuade me otherwise.

  Micah squeezed our hands and changed the subject, sort of. ‘Is Beth with anyone? I still see her as a kid, but she’s twenty-two now, right?’

  They all nodded. ‘She just graduated with a double major in theology and philosophy,’ Jerry said.

  ‘Theology and philosophy?’ Micah said. ‘I wouldn’t have thought that for her.’

  ‘It took her a while to find herself,’ Bea said, ‘but she’s already been accepted into her master’s program for next semester.’

  I heard Nicky’s deep voice murmur something behind us. A woman’s voice, much louder. ‘Who are you and what gives you the right to question us?’

  I turned to find two women trying to get past our bodyguards. Micah said, ‘It’s okay, Nicky, Dev, they’re my aunts.’ He went toward them as they walked between our blond guards. One woman had red curls that fell past her shoulders and was wearing work jeans, T-shirt, jacket, and boots that were not a fashion statement. The other woman had hair cut so short there was no curl left, a conservative skirt and jacket over a white blouse with a rounded collar, and sensible pumps. They were dressed so differently that it took a few seconds to realize that other than the superficial differences they were mirror images of each other, or damn close. They both looked a little like Micah, like his dad, and a lot like Juliet, who was hurrying to catch up with them both. There was another woman, or maybe girl, trailing behind Juliet. She was wearing an ankle-length skirt and a button-up blouse untucked over it, hair pulled back in a tight braid that couldn’t quite hide the tight curls she’d have if she let her hair go. Where the lack of makeup on Juliet had looked fresh and like she didn’t need it, on the girl it made her face look unfinished, or maybe it was the huge black-rimmed glasses that looked like they’d been issued by the military. The kind of glasses that were nicknamed contraceptive glasses, because no one could get laid while wearing them. I thought she belonged to the button-up skirt woman, maybe. Juliet was dressed so much like the woman with longer hair that I made a guess that she was Juliet’s mom.

  Micah introduced us to Aunt Jody and Aunt Bobbie; Jody was the long-haired rancher-looking woman, and Bobbie was the one who looked like a prim second grade school teacher at a parochial school. Jody did run a farm, and Juliet, her husband, and their two kids lived in a second house on the property and helped run it, but Jody wasn’t her mom, Bobbie was. They were Rush’s twin sisters. Bobbie was not a schoolteacher or a would-be nun; she was a lawyer.

  ‘I’m sorry Monty couldn’t be here tonight, Mike,’ she said as she gave him one quick hug and stepped back. The blue eyes that had been warm and showed so much emotion in Juliet’s face were cool and unreadable in Aunt Bobbie’s. She looked at me like she was studying me for an exam. ‘Monty is my second husband; he’s a judge now.’

  ‘Congratulations, I remember Monty. He, Dad, and Uncle Steve were friends,’ Micah said.

  Bobbie smiled with the first true warmth I’d seen. ‘He’s a good judge.’ That one small display said she loved and cared for her husband. It was nice to know Bobbie had found love twice.

  ‘Rex won’t be here, I divorced him years ago. He’s living in California in a condo where he doesn’t have to take care of anything but himself,’ Jody said.

  Micah gave her another quick hug. ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Jody.’

  She hugged him and then grinned. ‘It’s okay, Mike. I’ve never been happier.’

  He grinned back, and I found myself joining in the grin-fest, because there was just something about Jody that had that effect. ‘I’m glad,’ he said.

  ‘Me, too,’ she said, ‘and Juliet and her husband are wonderful. Another generation that wants to stay on the farm.’

  Bobbie gave a mock shudder. ‘No thank you, I am a city girl.’ Then she grinned and you could see the same joy in her face as her sister. She took her sister’s hand and said, ‘I told you when I had Juliet that she was part yours; little did I know you’d make a farmer out of her.’

  Jody smiled back at her sister and there was a history and a closeness there that was just good to see. ‘Hey, we have a grandchild apiece.’

  Bobbie smiled again. ‘That we do.’

  Juliet smiled at them both and I knew I was miss
ing something, but it was a good something that had formed a bond; maybe it was a twin thing, or maybe not. I’d ask Micah later.

  The second girl had drifted back to hug the wall, as if she weren’t a part of the happy family moment. Bea called, ‘Esther, you remember Mike.’

  The girl stepped away from the wall slowly, as if she weren’t sure what to do. ‘Hi, Mike.’ It was almost a whisper.

  ‘How are you doing, Essie?’ he asked, his voice soft as if there had always been something fragile, or wrong, with this cousin.

  She gave a shy smile. ‘You and Beth are the only ones who still call me Essie.’

  ‘I’m going by Micah now; do you prefer Esther?’ he asked.

  ‘No, I always liked you calling me Essie,’ she said quickly, looking up with big, startled blue-gray eyes that were so like Bea’s that I knew which side this cousin was on, which meant she had to be Aunt Bertie and Uncle Jamie’s daughter. Poor kid, though she was probably in her early twenties, so not a kid, just … she seemed much younger than she looked; maybe it was the awful clothes and glasses?

  I heard Dev say, ‘Not these guys again.’

  It made me look up, but my view was blocked. Ty at six feet plus could see farther and he swore softly under his breath. Bea chastised him, ‘Not in front of the kids,’ as if we were all five.

  ‘It’s your sister and her husband,’ he said.

  She said, ‘Shi … Shotgun! I can’t take much more of them today.’

  I looked at Micah and mouthed, Shotgun?

  ‘If you meet my grandparents you’ll understand why she doesn’t cuss,’ he said.

  I gave him wide eyes.

  Aunt Bertie and Uncle Jamie were being trailed by Al. I heard him say, ‘Now, Bertie, it’s enough for one night, with Rush hurt like this.’

  ‘Rush knows he’s outside God’s grace,’ Jamie said.

  I wasn’t sure what that meant, but nothing good. ‘What do they want?’ I asked.

  ‘To save our souls,’ Micah said, and he sounded tired.

  ‘My soul is fine,’ I said.

 

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