Page 104 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
She placed her hand over the screen. “It’s nothing. Just my mind playing tricks. I want to take a look at these carnival games and give you a tedious comparison against the games I know.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“Is that laser tag? Oh, we are so there. I played that all time with my brother,” she said, dragging him by the hand. He gladly followed.
Chapter 23
Winter Cayne faces an inquest over disappearance of famed mate, Rebel Cayne. Last seen leaving a Harvest Festival party hosted by close friend and confidant, Chase Cayne…
-Corra News Network
Winter
“This is not the correct day,” Zero said, ears back. The massive scarf threatened to swallow his head. It arrived in a care package from Marigold’s mother, laden with scented candles that made him sneeze, boxes of the fruit tea he found acceptable, and enough polished crystals in varying sizes to pave the front walk. Marigold had been particularly excited about a canister of coffee and a package of chocolate.
Father and son stood side by side, bundled up against the stiff wind. They were alone in the cemetery. Trees lurked beyond the leaf-covered lawn, branches nearly bare. The wind would knock down the rest of the leaves in short order. Inky black birds crowded on the limbs, chittering and calling. The sun hid behind clouds.
Winter could not shake the feeling of being watched. He searched the shadows in the trees, searching for movement or the gleam of a camera lens.
“The day does not matter,” Winter said. Rebel’s death anniversary was the following day but he didn’t think Rebel would care too much if they visited early. The dead did not keep a schedule.
“Tomorrow there will be a crowd, I guess.” Zero brushed away fallen leaves from the headstone and placed a wreath against the slab. He remained crouched there, having a private conversation with his mother.
Flowers, candles, weathered and battered dolls, and stones decorated Rebel’s grave. Fans left their offerings, and the groundskeepers kept the site tidy. As the anniversary of her death approached, the offerings increased to where the groundskeeper could not keep up.
Winter was surprised that Rebel remained popular. He had always thought her music vacuous, designed to be easily consumed but offering no lasting substance. Clearly, others disagreed.
“Is her music considered good?” Winter asked.
Zero’s tail swept along the ground, stirring up the leaves. “The instrumentals in the later records were very complex but the early recordings are the most popular.”
“Interesting. I do not have an ear for music.” Bubbly and light, Rebel’s early songs achieved an everlasting popularity.
A vehicle door slammed. Feathered wings broke free of the trees, the birds taking flight.
Marigold appeared in the distance, hurrying toward them. She had remained in the vehicle to give them some privacy. Her matching scarf bounced with every step. “Chase’s pet journalist just called me asking for a quote. I think they’re on their way.”
“Uncle Chase?” No sooner had Zero murmured his uncle’s name than a vehicle pulled up disrespectfully close. The wheels overshot the narrow pavement and dug into the lawn.
Chase emerged from the back, dressed in a long black wool coat, no doubt finely tailored with a price tag that would make Winter balk. The credit spent did not matter. Chase enjoyed nothing more than riling his cousin any way he could.
The prickly sensation of being watched returned. Winter turned back to the trees. A figure emerged, no doubt a photographer hoping to capture candid images of the family’s tragic reunion.
“Winter,” Chase said with a nod. He turned to face Zero, enthusiasm plastered on his face. “My boy!” He gathered Zero into an awkward hug, the adolescent's tail hanging limply. Chase looked directly at Winter and repeated, “Myboy.”
Zero pulled away.
Chase let him go but kept an arm over his shoulder, possessively. “I’m so glad you’re here to honor your mother’s memory. She’d be so happy to see us together, side by side.” Chase paused and contemplative looked settled on his face. Winter realized he was posing for photographs.
Chase continued, “We’re so alike, don’t you think?” He leveled his gaze directly at Winter.
“Time to go,” Winter said. He laid a hand on Zero’s shoulder, knocking aside Chase’s arm. It was foolish to struggle for dominance over his kit like a toy, but he’d be damned if he let Chase use Zero like a prop for publicity.
As they walked away, Chase called out, “You can’t keep me from him. I’ll get a court order if I have to.”
Like hell. Winter would protect his son until the breath left his body.
Marigold
