Old Dog, New Tricks (3 page)

“I was your mother’s lover,” he said with total seriousness.

I yelped and covered my ears with my hands. “Never say that again.”

My lip-reading skills sucked, but I’m pretty sure he asked me where I thought babies came from, which was an opening for a conversation I slammed shut. Any birds-and-bees talk with him was never happening.

Ever
.

Shaw leaned across Mac and grasped one of my wrists, pulling until he broke the seal over my ears. He threaded our fingers and hauled me back onto the seat. “My offer still stands, Thierry. It’s your call.”

Knuckles rapped on the glass beside me. Mom peered in at us. “Are we too early?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You got reservations.”

Mac was staring through me. “I was told it was difficult to get seating here otherwise.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Who told you that?”

A slow smile spread across his face as he lifted a hand to wave at my mother. “Mable.”

“Mable,” I growled. That explained why she had the inside track on tonight’s festivities.

He braced on the seat behind me. “She said Agnes enjoys their orange chicken.”

Agnes
. “Since when are you on a first-name basis with Mom?”

“Since the day we met.” His hip bumped mine, urging me toward the door. “Is there a problem?”

Other than my father and mother were separated by a chunk of metal and a pane of glass, which was the closest the two of them had been since my conception as far as I knew, nah. Not a one.

Where was the shouting? The hair-pulling? The cursing? The anger? Why was my mother, who ought to be clawing Mac’s eyes out for abandoning her—abandoning
us
—dressed to kill in a slinky eggplant-colored sheath with a black-sequined flower in her hair? I pressed my nose against the glass.

She was wearing
makeup
. And perfume. I smelled the vanilla and brown sugar scent from here.

“There’s no problem.” My fingers were numb as I worked the door handle. “No problem at all.”

Once my feet hit the ground, Mom wrapped me up in a big hug peppered with the warm scent of her love for me. Excitement lent her familiar fragrance an unfamiliar tang. The rush of emotions that poured from Mom at the sight of Mac exiting the truck sent my nose into hyperdrive. Each emotion has its own distinct smell, but her mood spiked so high so fast I couldn’t track how or what she felt.

All I could say for sure was the bitterness Mac must scent on me didn’t cling to her skin at all.

Mom kissed my cheek then held me at arm’s length. “This is so exciting, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I hedged. “Exciting.”

A frown marred her brow. “Your father didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what, exactly?” Old hurt simmered in my words. “That he was dragging me here tonight? That he has obviously been chatting you up behind my back? Or that you’re not angry with him anymore?”

Her expression gentled. “Everything that happened—”

“No.” I jerked out of her grip and backed up until I bounced off Shaw’s chest, and he grabbed hold of me. “Don’t finish that sentence. Don’t try to brush off the past or make light of it. I
killed
people, Mom, and he could have prevented that. All my friends... They would still be alive if he had hung around.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “It might all be in the past for you, but not for me. I see their faces when I shut my eyes at night. I still wake to their screams.”

“Thierry,” Mac warned.

“What did you think would happen?” Shaw challenged him. “I tried explaining it to you.”

“She is our daughter,” Mac growled. “This is a family discussion.”

“Shaw is family.” I stared down my parents and singled out my mother. “We’re mated.”

“Mated,” she breathed, clutching Mac’s arm. “Does that mean you’re married?”

Behind me Shaw tensed. “Not exactly.”

“I didn’t ask you, Jackson.” Her tone cut him off at the knees. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I leaned against Shaw. “Probably the same reason you didn’t mention this.”

“
This
is a relationship between two consenting adults,” she began.

“I can’t believe this.” I threw up my hands. “You’re back together?”

Shaw’s palms landed on my shoulders and tightened. “We’re causing a scene, folks. We should take this discussion someplace more private. How about we all meet at Thierry’s apartment to talk?”

Mac’s eyes glowed with emerald fire. “I made a reservation.”

“I’m not hungry.” I shoved past him and crawled back into the cab of Shaw’s truck. “I want to go home.” I wanted a door I could lock between the world and me. “Are you two lovebirds coming or what?”

“Yes.” Mac put a hand on my door.

“Macsen,” Mom murmured. “Let them go ahead. We’ll eat and give her time to calm down.”

He leaned into Mom, grip firm on the handle. “They can’t be trusted alone.”

Mom glanced between us. “Jackson, Thierry, do you really need a babysitter for an hour?”

“I give you my word,” Shaw said, “we’ll stick to the rules.”

“There.” Mom looped her arm through Mac’s. “Trust has to start somewhere.”

Eyes narrowed on Shaw, Mac let himself be led away while Mom chattered about whatever my parents talked about when they held their clandestine meetings. As acute as my hearing was, I could have eavesdropped. Instead, I waited while Shaw climbed in and cranked the engine, then I blared his radio.

Chapter Three

––––––––

S
haw killed the truck’s engine and jabbed the radio’s power button. “Am I in trouble here?”

I snapped out of my thoughts, shocked to find us sitting in the parking lot of my apartment building. “What?”

He stared forward, through the windshield, one hand still on the wheel. “Am I in trouble?”

I twisted in the seat so I faced him. “Did you know about them?”

“Not until today.”

“Could you have told me tonight was a setup for some happy-happy family time?”

He snorted. “Definitely not.”

I nudged his shoulder with my hand. “Then why would you be in trouble?”

“Your dad is keeping me apprised of his plans, then working his magic to make sure I can’t share them with you.” His thumb caressed the leather wheel. “It ticks me off. I figure it ticks you off too.”

“Yeah.” I leaned my head against the window. “We’re a couple of clocks all right.”

His other hand toyed with the keys dangling from the ignition, fingers ready to crank it up again if I said scram. “So that’s a
yes
.”

“I’m not mad at you. You can’t help what Mac does any more than I can. I just don’t get those two.”

“Your mom looked happy,” he ventured.

“I know.” I thumped my head on the glass. “That’s the part I don’t get. She was all dolled up for him. She was smiling and touching his arm like they were—I don’t know. A couple.
Something
. Not just two people who made a baby once. Like she forgave him on the spot. Like his being here now fixed the past twenty years.” I leaned forward. “I don’t get it. How is she okay with him?”

“She loved him,” Shaw said with certainty. “She might still love him.”

Needing to be grounded, I set a hand on Shaw’s thigh. “What about him?”

“He listens to her.” He covered my hand with his. “We’re alone now because Agnes told him to let us be. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but they seem like two people who worked out a lot of old issues fast. He must feel something if he broke down and went to her after just three days. Assuming he lasted that long.”

“I guess.”

The worst part of Mac’s visit was the tiny spark of hope that thought Mac coming here would solve a lot of Mom’s problems. He could take care of her. He could give her all the things I couldn’t, and maybe being together now that his secrets were out in the open might heal them both. But what happened when he left us again?

Would her heart break? Had it the first time?

I’d spent so long making sure Mom only saw what I wanted her to see that until this minute I never considered she might be paying me the same favor. She might be hiding her hurt behind fear.

I didn’t know, and I didn’t like not knowing, and I didn’t like my parents being nice-nice.

But this was about more than me. Mom had an equal stake in this.

“I have popcorn upstairs,” I told Shaw. “I bought those movie-theater-sized boxes of Milk Duds, Raisinets, Junior Mints and Sno-Caps. I spaced on Redbox, but we could rent online.”

It was a tiny, sugar-coated olive branch I extended but one Shaw accepted.

A smile tugged at his mouth. “Are you hungry? For real food?”

Grumpy silence ensued from my seat.

“That’s what I thought.” He pulled out his cell. “I’ll call in an order to Marco’s.”

“Thanks,” I said, thinking he was the only non-human outside of Mai I dared say it to.

“No problem.” He opened his door. “You’ve got a lot on your plate.”

“And life keeps dishing it out.” I tugged the handle and slid out the door onto the pavement. I stared across the parking lot at the squat apartment building where I lived with Mai, and soaked up all the details. The crumbling brick first floor, the warped siding bowing off the second and third floors. Burnt toast and roast lamb teased my nose. Laughter from kids playing a game of bite or flight in the park next door under the light of the moon drifted to me. Conversation bounced between neighbors unwinding after work. Balconies held grills and patio furniture and couples making out in the deepest shadows.

“Stop looking at this place like you’ll never see it again.”

Shaw’s voice startled so close to my ear.

I drew in the night scents and sounds and basked in the normalcy of it all. “I’m saving this memory for a rainy day.”

His warm lips brushed my temple. “Come upstairs with me.”

Chills peaked down my arms in a hot rush. “You promised Mac we’d behave.”

“No.” He chuckled softly. “I promised we’d stick to the rules.”

“How much wiggle room is in those rules?” I wondered as his warm breath caressed my neck.

“I don’t know. Let’s find out.”

––––––––

M
outh scorching mine, Shaw backed me out of the elevator and down the hall. I stumbled once, and he caught me against him, savoring my taste until he blinked clear of the haze clouding his eyes. In complete control now, he lightened the kiss, grasped my wrist and spun me wide in a dance move that surprised a laugh out of me. I whirled the last steps to my door and let us inside the darkened living room. Standing on the threshold, I called, “Mai. We’re back. You home?”

Silence.

I went into the kitchen and rooted in the cabinets for the popcorn. The mountain of candy piled on the counter kept my smile spreading. The note pinned to the fridge left a dent in my happiness. Its cramped handwriting announced it as Mai’s before I scanned the message or spotted her signature.

I balled up the note. “Looks like the Hayashis are circling the wagons.”

Shaw paused in his dialing. “
Circling the wagons?
”

“Hey.” I pulled ice-cold Coke cans from the fridge. “You’re old enough to appreciate that one.”

“Ouch.” He placed the cell over his heart. “She’s a sharpshooter, folks.”

I snorted. “What can I say? Mom watched a lot of Clint Eastwood when I was a kid.”

He glanced around the place. “That explains a lot.”

Mom had gone through what I called a Western Gothic phase that lasted many years past its expiration date. Lucky me, she had offered us a storage building full of wagon-wheel-inspired furniture and cow-skull accessories to use in our new place. Paired with Mai’s family’s contributions of leftover knickknacks in a cherry-blossom theme and a lumpy brocade couch, we had this circle-of-life thing happening.

I tapped a silk flower tucked into one of the matching skull planters on my way past. We both had black thumbs, so we stuck to the dust-catchers and avoided live plants, which admittedly fit the theme best. Not that we were encouraging the madness to spread. I never considered it before, but yeah. Good old Clint might be partly to blame for our décor.

“Someone must have tipped off Mr. Hayashi that conditions in Faerie are deteriorating,” I said.

“The rumor mill has been churning since you won the hunt. Everyone knows Faerie is unstable, they just don’t know the extent of it yet.” He lifted a finger while he placed our pizza order then resumed our conversation. “All the powerful families will be making contingency plans. Mai will probably be put on lockdown with her skulk by the time we leave.”

“I hope so.” I popped the tab on my can. “I want to know she’s safe. However it goes.”

Knowing she was holed up with her family would help me push that worry from my mind. Now if I could get Mom to go to ground while we were away, I could face the trip without the possibilities running through my mind of what might happen to her if/when the Morrigan breached the temporary wards between realms Mac had spent the past few days setting.

A vile taste tickled the back of my throat, and I drank to prevent it from rising.

The Morrigan was big on vengeance. It was kind of her thing. When she crossed realms? I knew her first official social call would be paid direct to Mom to give her personal thanks for me derailing her plans for her son, Raven, the prince I murdered to save my own hide, and I had to know Mom was going to be okay. I couldn’t leave her unprotected. Sure, she had Sven. Her gnomian guardian was kickass, but he was no match for a death goddess. But I wasn’t out of options quite yet. I had a plan.

“You don’t have to go.” I rubbed my knuckle into his chest. “You could stay here.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” He took my hand. “Besides, I don’t want Rook getting any ideas when you show up to save him.” He held my fist to his heart. “He’s not getting you back.”

“Well, he
is
my husband.” I tsked at Shaw. “You’re
the other man
.”

“No,” he disagreed softly. “You were mine first.”

I gazed up at him, letting a smile bloom. “I guess I was, huh?”