I crept slowly down the stairs, hoping to eavesdrop and get a feel for where things stood before I made my entrance. Unfortunately, their voices were muffled just enough by the walls that I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I paused at the base of the stairs, listening intently, but both my parents went silent. There was nothing for me to do but go in blind.
I pushed the door open and saw something I’d thought I’d never see: my mother and my father in the same room.
My mom was seated on the sofa, a glass of amber liquid clutched in her hands, and my father stood with his back to the room, staring out the front window with his hands clasped behind his back. He didn’t turn to look at me when my mom shouted my name and sprang to her feet, sloshing a bit of her drink over the rim of the glass. I’m guessing she meant to run to me for a smothering maternal hug, but the look on my face must have stopped her.
“You gave her booze?” I cried at my father’s back, and I was so outraged I felt like I might explode with it.
Dad turned to look at me then, and those piercing eyes of his stopped my voice in my throat. There was no magic involved, just the crushing weight of his disapproval. Objectively, he still looked young enough to be my mother’s son—she had not aged gracefully—but the paternal authority in his gaze destroyed that illusion and made me shrink back.
“You are my daughter, Dana,” he said, his voice frosty. “Your mother is not, and is therefore free to make her own decisions.”
“Dana, honey,” my mom said before I could think of an appropriate retort, “let’s not fight. We have a lot to talk about.”
The fuzz of alcohol still showed in her voice, but at least she wasn’t passed out in the hotel room, and she was close enough to sober to retain her powers of higher reasoning. With her, that kind of limbo state could be the worst of two worlds—drunk enough to be maudlin, sober enough that I couldn’t work around her.
I swallowed my bitterness the best I could, crossing my arms over my chest in what I knew was a defensive posture. “Fine,” I said, then clamped my jaws shut.
Dad was still giving me his laser-beam stare. “If you plan to participate in this conversation, I expect you to treat both me and your mother with the proper respect. Understood?”
I blinked in surprise. I wasn’t sure why Dad was mad at me, but that seemed to be the case. I couldn’t find my voice, so I merely nodded my agreement.
“Good,” he said with a curt nod of his own. “Now sit down, and let’s all behave like civilized adults.”
My mom winced, and that was when I realized it wasn’t me Dad was mad at. She sank down onto the sofa, taking a healthy gulp of her drink. I sat on the other end of the sofa and refused to look at her. Dad, of course, remained standing. I think it made him feel more in charge.
“Your father told me what’s happened,” my mom said.
I looked at Dad, trying to gauge how much he’d told her, but his expression gave away nothing.
“We were discussing what’s best for you now,” Mom continued, and Dad’s poker face slipped.
“There is nothing to discuss,” he said in a voice that suggested this wasn’t the first time he’d said it. “You cannot change what’s already happened, and now that Dana is an open secret, it is safest for her to remain in Avalon in my care.”
Mom wasn’t so boozy she couldn’t manage a first-class glare. “Just because you keep repeating it doesn’t mean it’s true.”
Dad’s glare was much more intimidating. “And just because you don’t want it to be true doesn’t mean it isn’t. Can you honestly tell me you’re equipped to protect Dana from assassins?”
She clunked her glass down on the coffee table and stood up, swaying slightly. “Can you honestly tell me you have nothing but her best interests in mind?” she countered.
Gee, I was glad we were going to discuss this like civilized adults.
Dad looked stricken. “I can’t believe you’d think I would put my own ambitions ahead of our daughter! You know how rare and precious children are to the Fae.” His voice was tight and choked, and I could barely recognize the stoic, reserved Fae politician I had first met. “You deprived me of my only child for sixteen years, and now you wish to whisk her away from me when I’ve only just met her. I won’t allow you to do it, and I wouldn’t have allowed it even if she’d proven not to be a Faeriewalker.”
I was really beginning to wish I’d stayed upstairs. Any idiot could tell they weren’t really discussing my options at the moment so much as airing out old grievances. Dad had seemed to take my mom’s decision to keep me secret from him with barely a blink, but obviously it bothered him a lot more than he’d let on. I wanted to slink away and let the two of them work things out, but I didn’t think I’d get away with it.
“You have no need to ‘allow’ me to do anything,” my mom said. “I am Dana’s legal guardian, and you can’t stop me.” She turned to me. “Pack your bags, Dana. We’re leaving as soon as you’re ready.”
She sounded terribly sure of herself, but even drunk she couldn’t possibly believe it would be that easy. Still, I leapt to my feet, hoping this was my chance to escape.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Cathy,” Dad said, then gave me a stern look that conveyed the message “sit down” without need for words. Reluctantly, I obeyed.
Mom gave him an absolutely withering look. “If you think you can keep Dana here—”
“Then I’m right!” he snapped. “How do you intend to remove her without my consent?”
Mom wavered.
“I want us to work in partnership to protect our daughter,” Dad continued, his voice steely. “But if you feel we must work at cross purposes, then rest assured that I will file a custody suit before you get halfway out the door. Even were Dana not a special case, I’d have enough grounds to believe I’d win, considering…” He glanced down at the glass that still sat on the coffee table.
Mom went pale, and something uncomfortable twisted in my gut. I had, of course, seen evidence before that my father was capable of a certain amount of ruthlessness. But as much as I disapproved of my mom’s drinking, it was a low blow for him to use it against her like this.
The look on Dad’s face gentled, and he sighed. “I had not intended this discussion to end in threats,” he said quietly.
Mom sniffled, and I looked up to see tears streaming down her cheeks. For once, I felt like the tears were a sign of genuine pain, not an attempt to elicit pity. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say that would make her feel better, but I impulsively reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“It’ll be all right, Mom,” I said, though I doubted either of us believed it.
“I’m sorry, Cathy,” Dad said. “But I have to do what I feel is right for Dana.”
She raised her chin and blinked away her tears. “So do I, Seamus.”
She disentangled her hand from mine, putting both her hands on my shoulders and turning me to face her. “I will get you out of here, honey, I promise.” Then she kissed the top of my head like I was six, gave Dad one last dirty look, and marched for the door.
I wondered if she realized she’d never once asked me what I wanted. I wasn’t sure I could have answered her, but it would have been nice to think my opinion counted for something.
“Dana—” Dad started as the door slammed closed behind my mom, but I held up my hand for silence, and to my shock, he gave in.
“I need some time to think right now,” I said, not looking at him. “Can we please … talk about this later?” I sneaked a glance at him, but whatever he was feeling was hidden behind a carefully neutral expression.
“I understand,” he said, and I got the feeling he really did. “Take however much time you need.”
I nodded, but my throat was too tight to allow any sound out. I couldn’t have told you exactly why I was on the verge of tears, but I was, so I beat a hasty retreat before I could fall apart in front of an audience.