The second Storm’s eyes alighted on the bird, he tried to reach for it. As I slotted the bowl onto the drying rack, Dad told Storm the story of how chickadees had earned their names from their distinctive calls.
“Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee.” Dad emulated the bird cry, explaining to his captivated audience that the number ofdees increased depending on the predator. “You should hear them when they spot us in fur. They string a lot ofdees together.”
I gathered the Tupperware, remembering all the times Dad had told me and my brothers this story, along with a great number of other fascinating tales on animal behavior.
Mom trundled up the stairs from the basement as I slipped on my boots and jacket.
“Bye, sweetheart. Have fun tonight, but be safe. No driving if you drink. Call us, and we’ll come to get you.”
“May’s little sister won’t be drinking. She promised to taxi us back and forth.”
“Okay. Good.” She kissed my cheek.
The walk over to Lori’s big house took a grand total of five minutes. Getting her to answer the doorbell took twice that long. Unlike our door, Lori kept hers locked. I was about to leave the plastic containers on her doormat when I finally heard footsteps and the scrape of metal. The elusive tawny-haired recluse squinted from the sunlight refracting on the snow, her lips as colorless as the rest of her face.
“Hey. Dad sends food.”
Her violet eyes dipped toward the stacked boxes in my hands.
I held them out until she took them from me. “We missed you at Thanksgiving.”
She’d never been loud and brash like Alex or their mother, but she’d become particularly quiet since her return from Boulder, as though someone had spun the volume dial on her lungs way down.
“Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“I’ve become a human blood bag.”
I grimaced, having forgotten about that. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because it was my idea.”
She regarded me a second that stretched into a full minute before shrugging. “I’m just happy I can help.”
Not only was she wan, but what I could see of her narrow body had become whittled down to mere bones tented with flesh. I made a mental note to tell my father to arrange daily food deliveries or, like my car, she wouldn’t last the winter.
I started to turn when I said, “We’re celebrating Adalyn’s bachelorette at Seoul Sister tonight. In case you feel like a change of scenery.”
She raised a stunted smile. “I don’t think I have the energy to make it out tonight, but thank you.”
Guilt swamped me at how relieved I felt she’d turned down the invite.
Lycaon, I was a horrible person.
Chapter 22
Outfit folded in my bag—Adalyn had insisted all the girls get ready at Hair of the Wolf—I set out toward Seoul Sister to help Miles put the finishing touches on the party.
At the last minute, though, I took a detour toward Bea’s apartment. I didn’t know if she’d be home, but I decided to try my luck and parked the Jeep beside the entrance of her building. I was about to ring her doorbell when someone exited the building. They held the door open, and I slipped in.
I almost turned back when I reached her second-floor apartment, but the memory of my brother’s heartbroken face made me jam my index finger into the doorbell. I waited, shifting from foot to foot, hoping I could maybe convince her to reconsider Nate, or at the very least, get her to emerge tonight. When no one came to the door, I pressed my ear against the wood, listening for a heartbeat. The door across the hall banged, making me jump.
“Can I help you, young lady?” the white-haired elderly man asked.
Guilt racked me even though I’d done nothing wrong. “I was hoping to speak with Bea Park.”
“Miss Park’s been absent for a while.”
