The chill between us failed to thaw by the time we reached the restaurant. Alaric held the door for me, then, as stiff as a plank, gave crisp orders to the maître’d. The poor man took one look at Alaric’s stony expression, and hastily escorted us to a table far away from the main dining room.
We had ordered steaks and shrimp from the menu, and received our glasses of wine from the waiter, when Alaric spoke. Despite the dim lighting overhead, the tiny table lamp that gave off only a hint of illumination, I saw his cold gray eyes soften. I sipped my wine, wishing I was anywhere but here.
“There’s so much you need to know about me,” he said slowly. “My people. Where I come from.”
“You sound as though you come from another planet,” I commented lightly.
“No. Not a planet. But certainly a place you’re not familiar with.”
“You can start now. If you want.”
Rather than talk, Alaric shook his head. “Tell me about you. Everything I don’t already know.”
I looked away, swirling the wine in my glass as I studied our fellow diners. Average, normal people talking while they enjoyed the evening out in a nice restaurant. Some had their families with them, some were couples. A few businessmen chatted over the tables with their meals over with and drinks in their hands.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I said at last. “My parents are somewhere in the wilds of Florida, you smacked my sister down, I’m just a chick with funky colored hair.”
“You aren’t a ‘just’ anything, Hayley.”
I curled my upper lip. “A sex toy.”
“That’s enough, dammit.”
I shrugged, and drank more wine, wondering if he’d take advantage of me if I became totally inebriated. He probably would just because he could.
“Let’s not fight.” Alaric smiled slightly. “Your funky colored hair is gorgeous, you work hard, you write beautifully. You have a true talent for insight, and Willow thinks the world of you.”
“Willow?”
“Her great gift is seeing into people’s hearts, you know,” he said. “She’s my aunt.”
I chuckled, my sour mood lightening a fraction. “You’d said that before ,but I still don’t see the family resemblance.”
“My father’s sister,” Alaric said, then sipped his wine. “After his death, she took me in hand. Raised me. Taught me right from wrong.” He suddenly laughed. “As much as she can anyway.”
“Where is your mom?”
Now, Alaric looked away. “I don’t know. She, well, she abandoned the family after my father’s death. No one knows where.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t remember much about her,” he replied with a shrug. “Or him, for that matter.”
“Willow is a very kind person.”
“She’s like my best friend.” Alaric paused, his head tilted slightly. “Wrong. Sheismy best friend.”
“So, you have no other family?”
“A few cousins.” Alaric’s mouth twisted in a small grimace. “One is my enemy, my rival. We’ve hated one another since childhood.”
“Rival? That’s a rather odd word to use, isn’t it?”
“No.” His gray eyes meet mine steadily. “In my country, I’m a very important person. Sort of like royalty. Damon, my cousin, wants me out of the way so he can take my place.”
“Yikes,” I murmured, sipping my wine. “That bites. Don’t you just hate it when family can’t get along?”
“Yes, I surely do.” Alaric lifts his wine glass in a half salute. “Here’s to those families who love one another unconditionally.”
