“It’s why I used that specific word. You needed to hear that, to recognize it. Without that, destructive patterns can’t be broken. It begins with awareness.”
I scrubbed my hand over my face. “You’re right.”
He frowned. “I am?”
“Please. You know you always are.”
“Of course, but you recognizing that is another matter.”
I shook my head to myself. “I conjured an oil painting into his dorm room, one that reflects repressed emotions and needs.”
“You… what?”
“I know. I crossed boundaries… literally. And not just when I breached his ward. The fact that I went that far, did that—”
“Something that’s most definitely not like you with how deeply you respect others.”
“Yeah. I guess that, combined with what just happened in here with him, it’s clear it’s not just toxic, which is bad enough, but it’s twisting me up, turning me into something… someone… I don’t want to be.”
“And you’ve recognized that. At the right time, too, before you begin this new life for yourself at Loxley Academy. You can go in fresh and prepared, do things differently, take a healthier approach. Beyou.And grow into more of yourself on that correct track.”
I smiled out at him.
“What?” he asked.
“Just… thank you, Dad.”
“No need to thank me. Just doing my parental duty.”
“Nah, it’s more than that.”
He lifted a shoulder.
“Is that what this dinner was about?”
“Your unhealthy sexual affiliations?”
“Wow… sexual affiliations? You’re really laying it on thick with the toning-it-down angle.”
He grinned. “I do what I can for your comfort, my sweet and gentle boy. No crassness for you, hmm?” He gestured at my hoodie that I was still holding. “Put that on and let’s actually get to dinner finally. Your personal life wasn’t why I called you here.” All amusement vanished then and I tensed at the serious look taking him over. “It concerns your Necromancy.”
Oh, no.
He held up his hand as I went to protest. “Just hear me out. And try to enjoy one last dinner with your lovely dad before you officially go away to Loxley.”
I shrugged my hoodie back on. “All right, guilt trip received and working. I’m all ears.”
“Great,” he said, as he led me out of the bathroom and back into the restaurant.
“Undead Domination… no. I can’t,”I uttered, after swallowing another bite of my seared ribs coated in some spicy fire-pepper rub.
I was alternating between eating those and the garlic potatoes that had come with it, and then sipping from my incredibly strong—and much-needed coffee.
I needed to keep my wits about me with this conversation.
“I’m aware that you don’t like it. Neither do I. But it’s part and parcel of our necromantic skillset.”
“Mom and Pops won’t like it either.”
