I told Chaldis I’d contact Lucius for him, if he wants, and make the introduction. Hell, I’d even vouch for him.
Look at me, vouching for another vampire.
I’m sure Garrett would be shaking his head at me right now.
Meanwhile, Corbin’s brother will likely pass away soon, but Chaldis has offered to let me stay on, if I want, even after Corbin returns.
As much as I’d hate the winters…I’m thinking about it. I’m secure here. The pay’s decent, especially since he provides room and board. The guy’s loaded, and he’s not at all a criminal. He’s slipped his fingers into a lot of very legal and lucrative pies over the years, since he’s been in Alaska for so long.
The problem is, when you get into winter in Alaska, besides the fact that it’s fricking cold as hell, you getdaysthat are barely six hours long.
To a vampire who isn’t susceptible to cold?
That’s fuckingawesome. It’s a goddamned Garden of Eden.
To a human like me? Who haslegitreasons to not want to face nights that long?
Not so much.
Especially when I’m alone.
Yes, I tearfully confessed to Chaldis what drove me from Tucson. I wanted him to know about the stupid whatever the dog-thing is, the gwiggle, or weewee, or whatever the fuck Lucius and Dex called it. I showed him the pictures I took of the security camera video screen. Since we don’t get cellphone reception at the house, unless I tap into our Wi-Fi and activate that setting on my phone, I was able to turn on my old phone and download the pictures to my computer without worrying about it pinging and giving away my location.
I’m pretty sure Dex was right about one thing—I’m now convinced the ring is some sort of key. When I look back, several times when I’ve put it on my finger, within a couple of days—usually sooner—is when I’ve had a problem and needed to move.
Dex puts it on his finger, and the creature shows up only a few hours later?
Andthe night Mom died, it was onherfinger.
Well,that’spretty damned conclusive. So, if I can keep ahead of the damned thing and just never, ever wear the ring again, or let anyone else wear it…
Maybe that’ll keep me safe, and keep those around me safe.
One day, maybe, I’ll work up the courage to destroy the ring.
Right now, I’m sitting on the deck outside the house and staring at the damn ring, where it’s threaded through its chain.
Maybe I should toss it into Kachemak Bay. The currents would carry it away, never to be seen again.
But something deep inside me rebels at that. Despite the trouble it’s possibly brought to my life…it’s literally theonlything I have of my father.
I don’t even know his realname.
No pictures of him.
Again, I think what if Dexisright? If maybe the things that have hunted me all my life are being sent by him through the ring? What if Amber’s right that he’s alive, but she’s wrong that he misses and loves me?
Maybe Mom wanted to spare me the truth. Maybe I wasn’t wanted.
Maybe my presence is a threat to some family fortune or something.
But would Mom have cried over him as much as she did? I know all the nights I awakened to find her sobbing and trying not to wake me up gouged deep ravines into my soul. I think that’s why I reacted to Dexter’s story so hard. I can believe he still mourns.
Dad was the love of Mom’s life. She never so much as had coffee with anyone else, unless it was a group of friends. But as far as I know, she never put on the ring, until that night she was killed.
And every time we had to move when I was a kid…
I groan. It was after I had usually stuck a finger in the ring, where it hung from the chain, while she was in the shower, or asleep, and I was fascinated by it and played with it because I missed Dad so much.
