she asked.
“Weird,” I said, after a long moment. Flicking a spinach leaf going to slime into the silver, plastic-lined trash can on the counter, I added, “We’re working with the police on some murder cases.”
Despite her usual acceptance of the fact that most of my work was strictly confidential, this gave Mom pause. “Anything you can talk about?”
“Not about the case itself, exactly. But there’s something I want to discuss with you and Dad.”
“Okay.” She took a plate out of the cabinet. “Over dinner.” With a fork, she stacked the three steaks onto the dish, then handed it to me. “Dad’s got the grill going. Take these to him.”
I stared down at the meat. “How did you know I was coming?”
A beatific smile floated across her face. “Mother’s intuition.”
“Seriously, Mom?”
This time, she gave shrug and a laugh. “Okay. There’s a meteor shower tomorrow night. I’m hoping to take some students out to see it, and I thought it might be nice to make something for your father. Otherwise, he’ll just eat a bowl of cereal while he reads the latest journals.”
Yep. He might keep her grounded, but she took care of him, too, in her own way.
Everything I knew of love came from these two people.
And a giant albino Burmese python named Suzy.
* * *
“So tell us what’s up at work,” Dad said before scooping up the last forkful of steak from his plate.
I had no idea when Mom might have told him I was having work issues, but they often seemed to function in tandem like that.
When I was younger, I had sometimes wished for a partner like that—someone who could all but read my mind, who would know what I needed and offer it, just because he loved me.
That was before I learned the reality of my situation.
Before I figured out that I couldn’t risk sharing my secret unless I also wanted to risk having that secret made public.
How could I be sure I could trust anyone with something that big?
But now, I knew there were other shapeshifters.
“It’s not at work, exactly, though it’s tangentially connected,” I said.
“Sounds like it’s something you want to avoid discussing.” That was Dad all over—he inevitably went straight to the heart of the matter. Even though I had come out here planning to tell them everything, I didn’t exactly want to talk about it.
Dad would say—had said, many times, when I was younger—that those were exactly the things that needed to be dragged out into the light.
As I had so often done before, I grit my teeth and blurted it out to them. “I met another shapeshifter.”
Mom gasped, and Dad slowly lowered the napkin he had been using to wipe his mouth. Setting it carefully on the table, he tilted his head inquisitively. “Another weresnake?”
“No.” I tried to decide how much to tell them. Kade hadn’t exactly said that his own existence as a shifter was a secret, but everything about his actions thus far—along with the fact that there were no reputable news stories about shapeshifters among us—suggested that he wouldn’t want me to tell anyone.
Finally, I settled on the generic outlines. “Another animal form, a mammal. He’s a doctor, and we’re working on a case together.”
Mom shoved her glasses up. “How did you discover that he is also a shapeshifter?” Her voice was precise and direct. I could imagine her taking scientific notes as I spoke.
These were the only people in the world I trusted entirely. I told them everything I had learned so far from Kade. That I was a lamia, that lamias were considered extinct, that they were unwelcome in the shifter community at large.
As I wrapped up, Dad nodded thoughtfully. “I’m not entirely surprised. When no one came for you, I assumed that either your immediate family was gone, or that your kind didn’t tend to its young very long. Given your human form, the latter seemed unlikely.”
“Did you suspect there were other shifters out there?” I tried to keep my
“Weird,” I said, after a long moment. Flicking a spinach leaf going to slime into the silver, plastic-lined trash can on the counter, I added, “We’re working with the police on some murder cases.”
Despite her usual acceptance of the fact that most of my work was strictly confidential, this gave Mom pause. “Anything you can talk about?”
“Not about the case itself, exactly. But there’s something I want to discuss with you and Dad.”
“Okay.” She took a plate out of the cabinet. “Over dinner.” With a fork, she stacked the three steaks onto the dish, then handed it to me. “Dad’s got the grill going. Take these to him.”
I stared down at the meat. “How did you know I was coming?”
A beatific smile floated across her face. “Mother’s intuition.”
“Seriously, Mom?”
This time, she gave shrug and a laugh. “Okay. There’s a meteor shower tomorrow night. I’m hoping to take some students out to see it, and I thought it might be nice to make something for your father. Otherwise, he’ll just eat a bowl of cereal while he reads the latest journals.”
Yep. He might keep her grounded, but she took care of him, too, in her own way.
Everything I knew of love came from these two people.
And a giant albino Burmese python named Suzy.
* * *
“So tell us what’s up at work,” Dad said before scooping up the last forkful of steak from his plate.
I had no idea when Mom might have told him I was having work issues, but they often seemed to function in tandem like that.
When I was younger, I had sometimes wished for a partner like that—someone who could all but read my mind, who would know what I needed and offer it, just because he loved me.
That was before I learned the reality of my situation.
Before I figured out that I couldn’t risk sharing my secret unless I also wanted to risk having that secret made public.
How could I be sure I could trust anyone with something that big?
But now, I knew there were other shapeshifters.
“It’s not at work, exactly, though it’s tangentially connected,” I said.
“Sounds like it’s something you want to avoid discussing.” That was Dad all over—he inevitably went straight to the heart of the matter. Even though I had come out here planning to tell them everything, I didn’t exactly want to talk about it.
Dad would say—had said, many times, when I was younger—that those were exactly the things that needed to be dragged out into the light.
As I had so often done before, I grit my teeth and blurted it out to them. “I met another shapeshifter.”
Mom gasped, and Dad slowly lowered the napkin he had been using to wipe his mouth. Setting it carefully on the table, he tilted his head inquisitively. “Another weresnake?”
“No.” I tried to decide how much to tell them. Kade hadn’t exactly said that his own existence as a shifter was a secret, but everything about his actions thus far—along with the fact that there were no reputable news stories about shapeshifters among us—suggested that he wouldn’t want me to tell anyone.
Finally, I settled on the generic outlines. “Another animal form, a mammal. He’s a doctor, and we’re working on a case together.”
Mom shoved her glasses up. “How did you discover that he is also a shapeshifter?” Her voice was precise and direct. I could imagine her taking scientific notes as I spoke.
These were the only people in the world I trusted entirely. I told them everything I had learned so far from Kade. That I was a lamia, that lamias were considered extinct, that they were unwelcome in the shifter community at large.
As I wrapped up, Dad nodded thoughtfully. “I’m not entirely surprised. When no one came for you, I assumed that either your immediate family was gone, or that your kind didn’t tend to its young very long. Given your human form, the latter seemed unlikely.”
“Did you suspect there were other shifters out there?” I tried to keep my
Similar Books
