Page 108 of Claimed

It’s a moment before she answers, her voice changing to something I don’t know how to discern.

“My magic is gone, so the whispers I hear now are the bitter regrets I have. The dreams keep on, mostly of the girl I once was, the one desperate to be a mother, to have a family. The visions come occasionally – of you, of your life. I let the dark whispers take that from me. I wasn’t strong enough. I have many regrets, most of all not knowing you. Not being there when you might need me. I grew up without my mother and I hated that I had to let you do the same.”

“I didn’t. Carrie is my mother. Listen, I don’t have any available bandwidth right now,” I state.

“Oh,” she breathes.

“I’m not saying no,” I advise.

“Okay?”

“A lot going on right now for me. I’m also not promising to keep the fact you contacted me a secret. That doesn’t sit right with me.”

“I see. I have no right to ask anything of you.”

“We nearly just lost Aunt Mimi. I only recently met her and I already can’t imagine the pain of that loss. Since she’s someone you know a lot better than I do, I imagine you’d feel the same.”

“Of course,” she whispers. “She’s my mother’s twin. I’m told they were like a two-headed coin. Almost exactly the same. There’s been a lot of loss in my life, the greatest loss being you.”

I frown.

“I’m not ready to face Aunt Mimi,” she adds quickly. “It’d be me looking at my mother’s face and if there’s disappointment, it’ll hurt. If there’s not, it could feel like a lie.”

“I see,” I say evenly, but internally I’m feeling skeptical.

“Can I call again sometime? See if you’re open to a conversation? A meeting, perhaps?”

“Looking at my face will be like looking at my father’s. Though I’m told I have your eyes.”

“Your eyes often changed when you were an infant, switching between your father’s and mine. It’ll hurt to look into your eyes and see who I could have been, what I could have kept, who I could have been to you, but not seeing you, not knowing you? I live that every day and that… that hurts more.”

I don’t bother to tell her that since that witch circle, my eyes have stopped changing, that they now look like hers always. Just lighter or darker silver depending on what’s happening. Am I at risk of vacillating between my mother’s and father’s traits? No, I don’t buy it. I’m me. I’m an individual.

“No promises,” I say. “If you change your mind about Mimi I think she’d be open. She offered to find you for me.”

“Oh,” she says, and the line is quiet for a moment before she finishes with, “Be well, Greyson. You can reach me at thisnumber day or night. Please don’t hesitate to call me. For any reason.”

“Right.”

“I might not have practiced magic since you were a baby, but I have a lot of experience that could help you navigate uncharted waters.”

“Appreciate the offer,” I say noncommittally.

“Bye Greyson. For now?”

“Bye.”

I end the call and quickly read a text from Joel before I stare out the window of the home office at the far end of the hall on my top floor for a few long moments, processing the conversation, but when I hear footsteps I know Luke’s on the move. I walk to the kitchen and see him staring into the fridge.

He jerks back in surprise, shuts the door, and averts his gaze, embarrassed.

“Mornin’,” I greet.

“M-morning. Sorry, sir. I… is it okay if I have some more milk?”

He’s scrawny. In both forms. Whether it’s just that he’s a late bloomer or what, I don’t know, but suspect it’s more about the bullshit rules about shifting under Meadows’ regime. Alpha, beta, or omega… shifting is a pivotal part of adolescence. That asshole could be trying to hamper their growth so he’ll have no competition in the future.

“You don’t need to apologize, buddy. Have at it. Eat and drink whatever you want,” I invite, then add, “Except stay out of my liquor.”

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