Page 127 of Lunar Desires
I introduced Drake first. She didn’t look at him once, her focus snared on my brother.
“And this is…” Her eyes widened. “In Hecate’s name…” She stepped back, her hand going to her mouth.
Did she recognize him as Isaac Davenport, the supermodel? If so, since when did she follow any sort of current pop culture?
She pointed at him. “I see it. I see…I see you, Riley. I see him.Daniel.” She lost her balance, stumbling into the wall.
Peter grabbed her. “Careful, sweetheart.” He glowered at me. “What’s going on?”
Her dramatic collapse slammed a hammer on my pissed off switch. I couldn’t keep it in, unable to face sitting at the dining table, wondering when the best time would be to bring Dad up.
I decided it was now.
Drake pressed his hand into my spine. “Alright?”
His touch gave me a boost. I let everything pour forth.
“Bloody hell,” Peter muttered at the end of my spiel.
Mum stared at me.
And then came the finale. “Did you do something to hurt Dad?”
Drake rubbed my lower back, Isaac patting the top half as I told her about the blue figure.
Mum’s face turned as purple as her blouse. She shoved my stepdad aside, her hands balled into furious fists. “I put the bastard in his place.”
My anger rose to match hers. Deep down, I’d wanted to be wrong, for her to have nothing to do with Dad’s current state. For him tonotbe that blue figure.
“Mum—”
She cut me off with a stomp of her foot. “Don’t try it, Riley. I’ve had enough. I thought I’d moved past him. Especially after House Aurora fell. Silly me. Silly, silly me. Because look at you.” She pointed at me and Isaac. “There you are. Where’s the third?”
No one answered her question.
“Mrs. Croft,” Drake began. “Maybe?—”
She stomped her foot again. “Don’t need to hear from you.”
Oh, that pissed me off even more, my face a conduit for heat. But I kept my voice level, despite the desire to scream the house down.
“I’m not mad about you hiding my heritage from me,” I spoke slowly. “But why would you lie to me about Dad? And what the hell have you done to him?” The latter part came out harsher.
Her lips curled up into a mean smirk. “Do you really want the truth?”
My belly roiled. “Of course.”
She glanced at Peter, his hands folded behind his back. “We cursed the bastard.”
My hands were clammy, my lips drying out as if under a heater.
“Me,” Peter added, pointing at himself. “I helped.” Any signs of his jolliness were long gone.
“What…” I tugged on my collar, woozy as hell. “How did you curse him?”
“Magic, Son. How else?” Mum answered.
“That’s not an answer.”
