Page 36 of Sins of the Fathers
Dawson couldn’t help grinning in return. “I bet you do—and I’ll take you up on them, if we’re still in the mood after we have that talk with Uncle Denny.”
* * *
“That meatloaf smells great,”Dawson said as he and Grady walked into Denny’s house. His stomach rumbled, vouching for his appetite.
“How did the fae thing go?” Colt asked, busy setting the table while Denny bustled around the small kitchen, taking food out of the oven. Angel wolfed down her kibble, then wedged herself under the table.
“The stuff Grady found in the lore worked. We de-faeried that part of the woods—at least for a while,” Dawson replied.
“You and Grady wash up. Colt, see if Knox is going to join us. And be quick about it—I didn’t cook this just to let it get cold,” Denny grumbled.
Grady and Dawson made fast work of washing hands and brushing the worst of the grass stains off their clothing. When they returned, Colt and Knox were seated at the table, and Denny motioned them toward the counter where the food was laid out like a buffet.
“Make your plates and come to the table. We want to hear all about it,” Denny told them.
Grady and Dawson took turns in between bites to recount what happened in the forest. Colt and the others listened closely until they finished.
“You boys did good,” Denny said. “Although it’s not like we can put up signs that say ‘Beware of the Fae.’”
“Maybe we should. People in these parts know the supernatural is real,” Colt argued.
“Tourists don’t,” Knox said.
“They’ll think it’s a joke,” Colt countered.
“Let them.” Knox pushed his empty plate away. “Hike at your own risk and all that.”
“Why stop there?” Denny said. “We could put up ‘Vampires ahead’ or ‘Watch out for the werewolves,’” he added sarcastically but with a gleam of amusement in his eyes.
“Hold onto that thought,” Dawson said in a wry tone. He looked to Knox. “How are you feeling?”
Knox shrugged and reached out for Colt’s hand as if seeking reassurance. “Better, but not all the way yet. Whatever they gave me packed a punch.”
“The downside of being human,” Grady teased his brother, but Dawson could tell that Grady was relieved to see Knox up and around.
They cleaned up after dinner and took sodas with them into the living room in deference to Knox’s sobriety and medication.
“You can still have beer,” he said, looking chagrined. “I promise I won’t jump you to drink them all.”
“We don’t need it. We’re fine,” Dawson assured Knox and looked to his uncle. “Denny—we want the real story about what happened to my parents and Uncle Aaron. Grady found Aaron’s journal, and our fed friends think whoever got to them might be gunning for us next.”
Knox turned wide eyes toward Dawson. “Got to them?” he repeated.
Colt looked quickly from Dawson to Denny and back to Knox. “Are you sure this is a good time—”
“Gibson and Tucker said that their supernatural forensics picked up a trace of magic with both the HDF biker boys that tried to fuck us over at the bar and those coyote shifters,” Dawson continued, relentless. “They’re here looking into something bigger that seems to tie in—and might have something to do with why Knox got roofied.”
Dawson saw the set of Denny’s jaw. “I think you’ve done your best to protect us all these years because knowing too much was dangerous,” Dawson cajoled. “You didn’t want the people who killed Grady and Knox’s grandfather and my parents—and now Uncle Aaron—to get us too. But it’s coming for us anyhow, and our best chance to survive is to know everything. Please, tell us.”
Denny looked to Knox. “You mean what you said about not minding if I have something stronger? Because I’m gonna need it to tell this story.” At Knox’s nod, Denny went to the kitchen and returned with a generous portion of whiskey.
“You’re sure you want to hear this? Because you can’t un-hear it,” he warned.
Grady gave a sad smile. “Want to? No. But we need to.” He reached down to pet Angel.
Denny sat and took a gulp, closing his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them, a resolute expression settled onto his features.
“Okay. Buckle up—this is one hell of a ride.” He took a deep breath. “Frank and Rebecca Richardson—Grady’s grandparents—were hunters like the Kings. They were also good friends with Michael King—Dawson’s grandfather, my father.”
