Page 57 of Werewolves Don't Howl
I threw myself at him, because I hadn’t seen my dad for far too long. He caught me in the expected hug, swung me around and then set me on the floor gracefully before turning to focus on Cross, who stood just inside the door, behind my pack of brothers.
“Senator Silverton, it is a pleasure to have you,” he said with a nod to Cross.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Cross said, beginning the battle of manners that only elves understood.
“Enough politeness,” my mother said, grabbing Cross’s hand and dragging him down the hall, towards the kitchen. “You’re too thin, both of you. I’ve prepared my famous fig jelly that you’ll have on some of Penn’s bread. He’s the best bread-maker in seven counties. Delphi, come along. You’re going to tell me all about how you met. Erasmus, are you coming or will you hide in your study?”
“I have a few things to wrap up,” my dad said with a slight bow. “I’ll join you shortly.”
My mother waved a hand dismissively and then pulled Cross closer as she hugged his arm and looked up at him as adorably as a gnome could. “Then I’ll have you all to myself!”
“Mama, we have to challenge him before the hayride,” Fen said, tugging on the thin ends of his long mustache.
“Challenge him for what?”
“Well, weapons, mostly,” Hook said, glancing sidelong at Cross. “Do you duel?”
“Not regularly, but I don’t object to it,” he said and then was forced into a chair by the fire before my mother perched on his knees and beamed at him, her finest gnomish beam, weaving her magic of coziness thick and heavy.
I wrinkled my nose at her for being so familiar with Cross. I’d never sat on his lap like that.
“Delphi, stop that sour face. He doesn’t mind, do you?” she asked, her bright gaze at him.
He blinked at her, then turned to me. “Are you comfortable, Delphinia? You could take my chair.”
I sighed and then gave in to the inevitable and sat on Cross, leaning against his chest so my mother could rest her back on my side, forcing some distance between them.
“So, tell me how you two met,” my mother said, clapping her hands, delighted with our pile-up.
“We met at school, but I forgot about it until recently,” I said, glancing at Cross.
He smiled at me with warmth that left me glowing in spite of myself. “I never forgot about you. I remember the lecture you gave the elf who broke that sapling so carelessly about the need to preserve, protect, and never use one’s magic selfishly or wastefully. You were very eloquent.”
“She gets that from me,” my mother said, and then broke out in gales of infectious laughter. “Penn, do you have the bread and jam? Don’t eat it all before Senator Silverton gets a chance to taste it.”
“You may call me Cross,” he said as he took the pretty plate with hand-painted flowers around the edges from my brother.
“Cross? What is that from?” my father asked from the doorway. I hadn’t noticed him, but apparently he’d decided that he wanted to hear the story of our fateful meeting.
“Where is it from?” I asked, thinking about it. “Your friends call you Cross, but you really aren’t that bad-natured, particularly for an elf.”
“I am Kilmaran Rosanthius Omarsus Silvaniustro,” Cross said with a deep head-nod to my father that had to make do because any further formality would leave me and my mother on the floor. “The initials spell KROS.”
My father studied Cross with a flash of intensity that made me worry. “Silvaniustro, from the night court?”
“Mm. You’ve heard of it?” Cross said, his tone slightly cooler than before.
“Naturally. I’m Angustia Erasmus. Your father escorted me out of elfland when I was exiled.”
Cross cleared his throat. “You’re that Erasmus?”
My father looked coolly disapproving.
“Wait,” Penn said, pointing at Cross. “Your dad escorted my dad out of elflands? Is he a soldier or something?”
“Something,” my father murmured, giving Cross a very interesting look. “Something like the high lord of the night court. Bred for violence and darkness.”
The kitchen was suddenly very quiet while I felt a fluttering of protectiveness for Cross. I put my arms around his shoulders and snuggled into his neck while he stayed in the same position, like my father’s extremely unkind words didn’t affect him.
