Everyone was gathering now, drifting toward the cake table. Jared caught my eye from across the garden and smiled—and I felt my heart do its usual gymnastics routine. Zanesaid something to make Eliza laugh, and Marcus and Cutter abandoned whatever conversation they’d been having to join the crowd.
“Make a wish!” Mindy commanded.
I closed my eyes and wished what I’d been wishing almost nightly since I learned about demons—that all of these people survive tomorrow and the next day and the next. That we figure out the freaky prophecy, and that we kick serious demon ass. Then I blew out the candles to cheers and applause.
“Speech!” Ren called out because he was a menace.
“No speeches. I will literally fight anyone who makes me give a speech.”
“That’s my girl,” Daddy said. “Turn seventeen and immediately threaten violence.”
My girl. I melted a little, because there I was standing with the people I loved, including a father who’d come back from the dead. I may have a freaky and dangerous life, but it’s also seriously cool.
The moment the last note of the happy birthday song faded, Mindy swooped in with a knife and started passing out slices as the party swirled around us in comfortable chaos.
“Present time!” Mom called after everyone had cake, and I found myself in one of the comfy, cushioned yard chairs surrounded by wrapped boxes and gift bags that I dug into with gusto. Or, more specifically, Timmy did, since I let him help unwrap each gift and then play with the ribbons and bows.
“Wow,” I heard myself repeating in various inflections as gift after gift was revealed. A new leather jacket from Aunt Laura. A set of throwing knives from Gramps—“Good balance, tested ‘em myself.” A silver bracelet from Mindy with a charm shaped like a tiny stiletto—“To match your cake.” And so many more wonderful gifts.
As the pile shrank, Stuart passed me a small velvet box with a purple bow. “From me,” he said.
I opened it to find a small glass vial with a crystal-and-cork stopper nestled among purple tissue paper. It had a silver band around the neck, which connected the vial to a delicate silver chain. Beneath the necklace, I found a photograph—Stuart and me on the beach, arms around each other, both of us laughing at something I couldn’t remember anymore.
“It’s holy water,” he said as I blinked back silly, sentimental tears. “The vial’s been in my family for generations. I had a jeweler put a collar on it so you could wear it.” He shrugged, suddenly awkward. “I want to help keep you as safe as possible, kiddo.”
My throat went tight. “Stuart...”
I hugged him hard, blinking back tears, and noticed that Mom was wiping away tears of her own.
I sniffled as we broke apart, looking away to hide the embarrassment of a teenager hugging their dad. As I did, it clicked that Mom wasn’t standing beside him. There’d been weirdness between them ever since Stuart woke from the coma, and I couldn’t help but remember the time I burst in on Mom and Daddy doing a lot more than she’d caught me and Jared doing.
And then I couldn’t help but wonder if—even though he’d been in a coma at the time—Stuart somehow knew about that.
Because, if so...whoa. Major awkward.
With a mentaloomph, I shoved the memory aside, becausesonot wanting to cringe again. But at the same time, I was hopeful. I wanted Mom and Daddy back together. I really did. But that would mean Mom and Stuart weren’t, and I didn’t want to think about Stuart getting hurt.
I sighed. If this was adulting, it kind of sucked.
But, since I wasn’t yet an adult according to the State of California, I tossed all those confusing thoughts aside, then wiggled my fingers and said, “Next! Gimme, gimme.”
“This one’s from your father and me,” Mom said as Daddy handed me a pink-wrapped box then moved back to stand beside Mom, the sentimental look that passed between them making my chest tighten all over again. I ripped off the paper with a flourish and opened the box. Inside, nestled in velvet, was a stunning crossbow. Compact, elegant, clearly old but perfectly maintained. The wood was dark and polished, the metalwork intricate and beautiful. “Wow.”
“I gave it to your father when we were active inForza,” Mom said. Her voice was rough, and I knew she was holding backmy baby’s growing-uptears.
“It’s yours, sweetheart,” Daddy said. “You’ve earned it.”
I lifted it carefully, feeling the weight, the balance. Perfect. Like it had been made for my hands.
“I don’t know what to say. I mean, thank you, but...wow.”
Stuart’s phone buzzed, and as he glanced at the screen, his expression shifted to something I couldn’t read. “I need to take this, kiddo,” he said. “It’s Rome.”
I nodded, then watched him disappear through the French doors, his phone pressed to his ear. And I couldn’t help but think that he was probably glad of the distraction, what with Mom and Daddy strolling down Memory Lane.
Jared appeared beside me as everyone started to drift back toward the food and conversation. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “Can I steal you for a second?”
I set the crossbow carefully back in its box and let him lead me toward the edge of the garden, away from the crowd. My heart did that fluttery thing it always did when he looked at me like that—like I was the only person in the world.
