Fading Amber by Jaime Reed Page A

cars faster than clothes these days.”
    â€œIt was a storm. I can’t control the weather.” Or the crazy demon that compelled that weather , I thought.
    â€œSo how’s your mother?” he asked me on our slow approach to my new whip.
    â€œThe same as when you asked me on the way over here.” That question was just as random the second time around, and I had a feeling it’s been sitting on his tongue long before today. This little father-daughter trip had taken an awkward turn as he continued to pry into Mom’s personal life, specifically her relationship with a Cuban detective from New York. Knowing I would be too grateful to deny him info, he picked this exact time to launch his interrogation. Well played, old man. Well played.
    â€œFor a married guy, you seem awfully interested in what another woman is doing,” I said. “Does Rhonda know about your side hobby?”
    â€œI’m just concerned for Julie’s well-being, nothing more,” he replied indignantly. “She is after all, the mother of my child.”
    â€œSo is Rhonda,” I countered. “You remember those two six-year-olds that live at your house, don’t you? Dad, you have a whole other life and Mom deserves a chance at that too. Let her move on.”
    Not to sound gross, but Dad looked good for his age, and why he married a hateful gargoyle was one of life’s many riddles. I got my baby face from him, and very few people believed he was thirty-four, with not one wrinkle or blemish marring his mocha skin. I wasn’t sure if it was out of anger or something else altogether, but he seemed to age twenty years in a matter of seconds. “Yeah, well your mother’s judgment has been cloudy lately. You do remember that last man she tried to date.” His dark eyes narrowed at me, drilling his point with deadly precision.
    Of course, this wouldn’t be a proper argument without bringing up past mistakes. And Caleb’s father, Nathan Ross, was a fatal mistake, one that I singlehandedly removed from the earth.
    â€œMom’s fine. She knows how to take care of herself,” I assured.
    â€œAnd what about you? Your taste in men is a little questionable as well.”
    I was about to comment, but the words fizzled in my mouth. I knew Dad disliked Caleb, but that didn’t make his statement invalid. Caleb was cryptic—that was what drew me to him—but that mystique can get old real quick when enemies vanish, vehicles get wrecked, and people wake up on the ceiling. It’s hard to fully trust a person and doubt him at the same time, but not impossible. I did it every day. Telling by the skeptical look Dad was giving me, I wasn’t the only one.
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    After dinner, another game of twenty-questions, and yet another petition for me to consult a therapist, Dad and I parted ways with the promise of meeting up before the Christmas madness kicked off. Too many people had died around me this year and Dad wasn’t sure if I was dealing with my grief properly. He was right; I wasn’t, hence the dead girl in my living room that no one could see but me. A shrink couldn’t help with my particular issues and being labeled a head case might ruin my chances of getting into law school, so I could tough it out for a while.
    I didn’t go home right away; instead, I made a pit stop at Caleb’s hotel across town. He and his brothers were staying there until Caleb could either find a new apartment or salvage the old one from the wreckage that Tobias left behind. Caleb never told me at which hotel he was staying and with everything going on, I hadn’t bothered to ask, but I didn’t need a name or directions. I would always know where he was and vice versa.
    In my experience, there was no such thing as a broke Cambion; their charm afforded them many luxuries and allowed them to get away with murder, quite literally. Caleb came from money, but he lived humbly;