Kept (4 page)

But I smiled and nodded with emphasis.
Yep, I’m all good here
.

“Well, hopefully you’ll open up at our private session.” That white wizard had a raised eyebrow that told me he’d read through me like a cheap tabloid magazine.

“Anyone else want to talk?” Dr. Frank asked.

“Right now I’m pretty upset about the construction on the Brooklyn Bridge,” Starfire began. “They are polluting the East River with all those chemicals and the machinery—just to repair the overpass. It’s ridiculous. And the new bill in Congress that didn’t get passed to keep the chemical D-128 out of pesticides. It’s environmental suicide to allow farmers to spray that on our food.”

Raj and Lilith rolled their eyes. I had the same feeling, but I tried to be a good girl. Unless someone interrupted Starfire, he’d argue for hours about every little thing he couldn’t control. All of the things that worried him were beyond even a white wizard’s power to manipulate.

Dr. Frank glanced at everyone to make sure we behaved ourselves. For once, Lilith kept her mouth shut and gave Starfire five minutes to get it all out. I had to admit that maybe she’d changed a bit since Yuri had come her way.

While Starfire spoke, Dr. Frank nodded at the appropriate times. But when he had a chance to jump in, he did. “Those problems do sound unfortunate, Starfire. But how about you tell us
briefly
some of the activities you’ve planned to reduce your stress?”

That question appeared to push the nymph a bit. “I’ve had trouble—acting on solutions to my problems.”

“Have you found a coping mechanism?” I suggested.

“Something that usually gets your mind off polluting factories—” Abby said.

I jumped in again. “How about volunteering whenever you feel overwhelmed? There’s plenty of opportunities to be found.”

“Good idea, Natalya,” Dr. Frank said. “That’s a great suggestion.”

The others made suggestions, too. Heidi suggested that Starfire help out at the youth center where she volunteered once in a while. For a second I wondered if that was a wise move since he’d potentially knock out anyone with a sense of smell, but who was I to keep a guy from helping the community?

Raj mumbled his offer, but it was a constructive one nonetheless. “If you’d like to join me tomorrow for racquetball, you’re more than welcome.”

Starfire nodded with enthusiasm. “That’d be wonderful. No one’s ever invited me to anything before.”

A quip lingered at the back of my mind—but his final words tugged at my senses. The smile on my face disappeared and for a brief moment I wondered how lonely his life was. Did Starfire have a family? Did he have anyone
in his life, like my grandma, who loved him unconditionally?

By the time we’d worked through Starfire’s extensive list of problems and offered him some solutions, our time was up. Everyone stood, and I expected Nick to accept my offer to go out for dinner, but he immediately shot my hopes down.

“I’ve got a Friday evening shift at the pawnshop. Sorry.” The disappointment on his face was clear.

A sigh escaped my mouth before I could hold it back. A small knot formed in my stomach and a familiar feeling hit: loneliness.

Maybe when I got home Aggie would be there to hang out with me. But I doubted it. Lately she’d been spending more and more time socializing out of the house. And Aggie was my best friend and all, but I refused to be the tagalong friend while she was getting some action. So that meant I’d be spending my evening like I always used to: alone at home with what few ornaments I had left, making s’mores, and commiserating with my only company—my memories of the past.

The ride home was quiet. Even the vast array of jazz stations that usually mellowed out my mood didn’t help much. I tried to brighten up and think about my ornaments. They’d be waiting—and if the holiday sales kept coming, I’d have something to look forward to.

Thankfully, Aggie was home. But a cozy evening with my friend came to a quick halt.

Aunt Vera had left a long message for me on the answering machine.

Aggie sat quietly—for once not eating anything. From the expression on her face, what she’d heard probably made her lose her appetite. The impending doom gave me the same feeling. How did I always end up in this position?

When I played the message, I was glad I was sitting down. It left me with the same sinking feeling I’d felt when I learned my brother had been kidnapped by the Long Island pack.

But now it was my father who was missing.

Chapter 3

T
he
drive to my parents’ house was a somber one. Even though Aggie came home from her part-time job before I’d arrived, like a good friend, she still rode with me. Still, during the drive, I couldn’t shake the guilt from holding back yesterday. Why hadn’t I asked my parents what was going on between them? Surely I could’ve asked what was wrong?

“Don’t worry, Nat. I bet your aunt’s worried about nothing.” Unfortunately, Aggie’s words of reassurance didn’t make me feel better.

When we arrived at the house, I noticed that no one else was here. If my father was missing, where were my uncles and cousins?

My brother answered the door. His expression only deepened my anguish.

“Where is everyone?” I asked. My ears told me Grandma was asleep upstairs while Mom cooked in the kitchen. From all the banging noises she was making, she wasn’t very focused on her task.

“We’re not sure what’s going on yet. Aunt Vera called me since Mom’s acting weird about Dad.”

Aunt Vera emerged from the kitchen and took us to the side to explain she’d managed to get Mom to tell her Dad was missing, but that was it. Instead of gathering
the whole family, as we always did in an emergency, and sending them out to search for Dad, Vera thought it best to call us to help get her sister to open up first.

We entered the kitchen to find Mom leaning against the counter. Stains covered the front of her blouse, and strands of her blond hair escaping her ponytail made her look harried.

My brother approached her first, but I was the one who spoke up.

“Mom, what’s going on with Dad?” I searched her blue eyes. When she avoided my gaze I knew that something was very wrong. She took a cup of coffee from the counter and gripped it tightly. Squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed deeply.

“This morning he said he’d return home before dinner. I told him not to go,” she whispered. “That I’d find some way to help him with his debt.”

“What debt, Mom?” I knew it: I
should’ve
pressed further when I saw how reserved Dad and Mom were being. If I’d told Alex, and he and I had pushed the matter, they wouldn’t have been able to hide this secret from us.

Mom’s voice was practically a whisper. But the heavy silence in the room helped us hear her. “His moon debt with a werewolf in Atlantic City.”

She didn’t need to say more. From behind me, I heard Alex curse.

To me, Atlantic City meant only one thing. Trouble. And it was all because of my dad’s past. When most kids’ parents needed an odd job here or there to help out with the bills, they worked at Walmart or hauled materials over at the old mill in town. But as a powerful werewolf with a menacing build, Dad was able to make a buck or two doing something very different: He was once a bodyguard for the supernatural crime groups. He’d made good money and kept a roof over our heads.

But at what price?

My belly ached with dread over the moon debt. To most people, “debt” meant monetary debt. But for werewolves, debt can only be paid in sweat or blood. According to the Code, debt had to be repaid sooner or later—with servitude or death. I didn’t know when my dad had incurred the debt, or what he owed. All I knew was that the look on my mom’s face was of deep sorrow. And that when she feared something enough to cry, it was never good.

An hour later, Alex and Aunt Vera managed to convince Mom to talk. Aunt Vera got Mom to gab after she convinced Mom to spend some quality time in her haven—the kitchen.

Mom baked a cake to keep her nervous hands busy. After the cake was safely in the oven, she stood quietly staring at the stove, her right hand locked around a glass of whiskey. My mom didn’t drink often, but a visit from good ol’ Uncle Jack Daniel’s would settle her nerves when necessary.

I must’ve been staring at nothing too long, because Alex tried to cheer me up. “For all we know, Dad might show up any minute now.”

Did my brother really believe that? Mom was crying, for goodness’ sake. “I called his cell,” she said, “but he didn’t answer.”

“Has he
ever
answered his cell when expected?”

Alex had a point there. Dad and the newest technology didn’t exactly go hand in hand. Dad was from the old country; dealing with newfangled gadgets always drove him to scratch off what little hair he still had on his head. Most of the time, either Alex or I had to upgrade the cell phone he rarely used.

“So what do we do now?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Alex murmured. “He’ll likely turn up in the morning.”

“What about the moon debt?”

The side of Alex’s jaw twitched. When he worried about things, I could see hints of Dad in his face. My younger brother took after my mom, with the same blond hair and blue eyes, but bits of Dad lingered under the surface.

“Don’t worry about it. Dad’s probably drunk and settling the debt with a few card games.” Alex smiled at me, but I could see through his false reassurances.

“How’s Karey?” Changing the subject to his wife should ease the climbing tension in the room.

Alex’s face brightened. “She’s great. A bit grumpy, but if I were carrying around a kid in my body, I think I’d be cranky, too.”

“Have you finished the baby’s room?”

“Not yet. Karey has all these plans to create an environment suitable for a nymph baby. I have to remind her once in a while that I should have a say.”

I snorted. “Good luck with that.”

“At least I can help with the furniture and things. Dad was supposed to help me with the crib.” His voice trailed off.

“Have you seen the instructions for most cribs?” I managed a laugh. “We have a few antique ones at The Bends. Bill said they would bring in the lazy customers who don’t feel like putting a new crib together themselves.”

When I wasn’t fending off relatives who couldn’t wait to ostracize me again, I worked at the Bend of River Flea Market—known locally as The Bends—in town. Its owner, Bill, wasn’t the best boss, but he ran a profitable business.

“Are you sure The Bends should be selling cribs?” Alex asked. “Don’t antique cribs have safety issues?”

I cackled loud enough to make my brother laugh. He sometimes forgot my last name should’ve been “anal-retentive.” I always thoroughly cataloged and verified
everything
that went through the store. If my stock were a person, I’d have known their credit rating as well as the last time they picked their nose in public. “Don’t worry, they’re safe. Most of our cribs would’ve been used a century ago. A few of them are haunted, if you’re interested in that kind of thing.”

“A haunted crib? Who’d buy something like that?”

A hand touched my shoulder. It was Aggie joining us in the back of the kitchen. She held a plate with a warm slice of cake. Under most circumstances, the chocolatey dessert would’ve begged for my company, but right now I was too distracted to eat.

“Rich people buy eccentric shit like that all the time,” Aggie said. “They see it as the easiest way to show how big their wallet is compared to the size of their pecker.”

“Our most profitable supernatural sales come from auctions for the wealthy,” I said.

Aunt Vera joined us. “Does anyone else
besides
Aggie want a piece of cake?”

As usual, Aggie didn’t look the least bit insulted by my aunt’s remark. From the pleased look on her face, I could tell the generous piece Vera gave her made up for the loss of her chocolate cake to the floor yesterday. But I shook my head.

“Your mother was hiding this in her pocket while she was cooking.” Aunt Vera tilted her head to make sure Mom wasn’t looking as she took something out of her own pocket. “She kept pulling it out, trying to read it secretively, but I saw her.”

Alex took the note and read it slowly. For some reason he turned it sideways, as if a different angle would reveal some important clue.

“What does it say?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Whoever wrote it probably did so with their eyes closed.”

I extended my hand. “We’re lucky you’re able to read and write at all, Alex. Just give it to me.”

After reading the note, I had to concede my brother had a point. It was in Russian, but whoever wrote it barely knew how to scribble using Cyrillic letters. No wonder Alex had tried to read it sideways. I stared at the note a few times, and it eventually became clear:

Fyodor, any time you want to score a big hit, you come see me. Just look for Old Leslie Leatherback to take good care of you. I could always use a helpful hand when the next opportunity comes up
.

“There’s some other stuff in there—a bad joke or two—but nothing else useful. It’s also signed, Roscoe Skins.” My nose turned up. “What kind of name is that?”

“Sounds like a bad hair band from the eighties or a brand of potato skins,” Aggie said through a mouthful of cake.

“It says nothing about the debt, though,” I said.

“You three should go home,” Aunt Vera said. “I don’t think the note’s of any use.”

Alex rose, but I didn’t follow.

“Natalya, I’ll make sure your mother gets to bed all right.” Aunt Vera’s face was reassuring.

Now that I was an accepted member of the family again, no one could prevent me from doing what I wanted. Especially since my father was missing. “I’m staying here with Mom until Dad comes home,” I said.

Dad didn’t show up that night, or the next morning.

The day began like any other Saturday, with my mother rising early to make breakfast for Grandma and Aunt
Olga, who was Grandma’s caretaker during the day. By noon, the sun had risen, and my father was still missing.