“But you cooked,” I protested. Johnny hadn’t come home yet. He didn’t have a car with him, but someone would give the Domn Lup a ride. Eventually. Hope he and Gregor aren’t still duking it out.
Beverley pointed to the refrigerator where a magnet prominently held her math test with a big red A+ on it. “I aced the math test. Can I come out and see the unicorns?”
“Absolutely,” Nana said quickly. “Maxine will help me with the dishes. Take Zhan with you, too.” She shot a glance at the sentinel. If Nana knew Zhan was curious, that meant they had talked some today. Good for Nana, not being completely antisocial toward the Offerling. But I hope Zhan didn’t mention the visitor who upset me so much.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After bundling up, I checked by the garage for the bucket. Thunderbird had not brought it back, so I filled a mixing bowl instead. The four of us walked to Mountain’s mobile home first. Beverley knocked. “You’re my first guest, Beverley,” he said happily. “Come in! I don’t have much in the way of seating to offer, but it’s out of the cold air.”
I could smell pizza, then saw half of one on the stovetop on a round cooking stone. “The oven works. Anyone like a slice?”
Beverley took a small one. I didn’t blame her. Nana’s lahanodolmathes wasn’t going to be her favorite. I had a suspicion Nana’s traditional Greek food phase was actually an unspoken effort to get someone else to volunteer for cooking duty in Johnny’s absence.
Something bumped the back door lightly and emitted a gargly whining sound. It commanded our attention but Mountain simply shrugged it off. “I think Zoltan wants some pizza.”
“I wouldn’t advise giving in to that,” Dr. Lincoln said.
“Don’t worry, Doc. The way that little dragon belches his tuna there’s no way I’m letting him have a garlic-tomato sauce.”
“Can I see him?” Zhan asked.
“Certainly.” Mountain grabbed a Lysol spray. “Hopefully this will kill the pizza smell for him.” He doused the area of the door then led the doctor and an eager Zhan outside and over to the barn.
Beverley and I remained behind so she could finish her pizza.
An awkward moment later, she said, “I’m sorry about breaking your glass.”
My glass. “This is your home now, kiddo. It was your glass, too.” I hoped she understood what I was trying to say. “I’m sorry that I have to do something that your mother did, something that bothered you.”
Beverley set the pizza on a napkin. “She always acted like Goliath biting her was no big deal. It’s got to hurt. It’s …”
When she didn’t go on, I took a deep breath and steeled myself. “I’m the Lustrata, Beverley. I am bound to Menessos and to Johnny, and to you and Nana.” I searched her face and added, “There’s nothing I can do to change any of that.”
The corners of her little mouth angled down. “I don’t want you to die.”
“I don’t, either.” I took her into my arms. But my path is a dangerous one.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she said. “I don’t want to go anywhere else. I like it here.”
I pulled away and got on my knees to be eye level with her. “This is how things are here. Vampires and witches and wærewolves are always going to be in the mix. I can’t promise it will be easy for you. It won’t. But I can tell you that I truly want you to be a part of my life. I want you to have a regular childhood, but a lot of my life isn’t regular.”
She wiped her cheeks with her shirtsleeve. “I don’t want a ‘regular childhood.’ Regular kids don’t get to ride unicorns and play with dragons.”
My heart swelled. She couldn’t have said anything that encouraged me more. Grasping her arms reassuringly, I said, “Then you have to accept the good and the bad. You have to accept that living here means riding unicorns and playing with dragons and it means knowing that one vampire gets to drink from me and a certain wærewolf gets to kiss me.” I squeezed her gently. “Can you accept that?”
She bit her lip, then nodded. I pulled her to me and said, “I love you, Beverley.”
They were words I couldn’t bring myself to say to Johnny, but they slipped out for her easily.
She threw her arms around me. “I love you, too.”
It was like those words sealed all the cracks of concern between us. They gave her security. They gave me hope.
When we joined the others, Zhan was still awestruck and trying to make friends with Zoltan, who slithered away every time she tried to touch him. His constant aversion wore her down until she looked hurt.
“He’s playing with you,” Mountain told her. “Turn your back like you’re sulking, and he’ll sneak up on you. When you spin around, see if you can avoid him until he pretends to sulk.”
She did as he instructed and for the next several minutes the two of them played this variation of Keep-away. It was amazing. Zhan was nimble as a ninja, flipping and somersaulting through the barn. Watching the two of them was like watching an acrobatic stage show. When finally Zhan stopped, breathless but delighted, Zoltan coiled around her and let her pet him.
The rest of us applauded.
“He’s incredible,” she said.
“Indeed,” Mountain said. There was a sparkle in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. He’s sweet on Zhan!
When Geoff finished with the dragons we proceeded to the phoenix coop. Their staccato chirps made it clear that they did not like being disturbed after sundown, but Mountain pulled a box of Hot Tamales from his pocket and gave each of the fire birds a piece of the zesty candy.
“Is that what I think it is?” Geoff asked.
“I dropped some earlier accidentally,” Mountain said, his cheeks flushing. “They went into a feeding frenzy.”
It didn’t take long for the vet to finish up and we moved on to the unicorn and griffon barn. I peered across the night-shrouded field toward the grove. I couldn’t detect Thunderbird if he was there, but he would have been well camouflaged.
A sense of urgency filled me, an eagerness to get to him, but we needed to let Beverley see the unicorns first. She’d earned her grade and had been very patient. I could be, too.
When the barn doors rolled open, every pristine white unicorn head rose up. Some quiet nickering greeted Mountain. A young colt backed out of his stall in the middle and trotted the short distance toward us. “Hey, Errol.” Mountain scratched under the colt’s chin.
“Can I pet him?” Beverley asked.
“Ask him,” Mountain said.
Beverley moved one cautious step closer. “May I pet you, Errol?”
Errol backed up two steps. I thought he was declining, but then he ceremoniously bent one foreleg under and bowed down until the tip of his horn touched the ground at Beverley’s feet.
Wide-eyed, she whispered to Mountain, “That’s a yes, right?”
He was as surprised by this gesture as the rest of us. To me, he said, “I think that’s an invitation.”
With the unicorn making his dramatic display, I couldn’t possibly have said no. I nodded. Errol raised up. Mountain slid his hands under Beverley’s arms and lifted her, placing her gently on the unicorn’s back. Errol moved away, slowly. With high parading steps he walked toward the rear of the barn where the griffons had made nests out of hay. The colt brought her back, and took her toward the griffons again.
She was, of course, delighted. “He’s so beautiful, Seph! Can I tie purple ribbons in his mane and tail?”
With lifted brows, I redirected her question to Mountain, who said, “If Errol doesn’t protest, sure.”
Assured that Mountain and Geoff had everything under control, I announced, “I’m going to try to bring Thunderbird here, so you’ll have the light.”
“I’ll come with you,” Zhan said. I opened my mouth to object, but she cut me off by adding, “Menessos assigned me to make sure you’re safe, so you won’t be going out in the dark alone. I promise to stay back once we get near him.”