Page 35 of Dark Dragon’s Wolf

But he hadn’t. Mayah could see the way his gaze found Lissa every few minutes, lingering on her.

Lissa said, “It’s hard sometimes—for both of us—to leave our pasts behind. And it takes time. But it’s worth it.”

Eventually the crew meandered over towards the fire pit, and the party started.

Mayah found herself in a knife-throwing competition with Kira and Jasmin by the Alex Fierro Memorial Beach and Tiki Bar. Which was actually a shabby trailer with a crescent-shaped pile of sand and a giant kiddie pool in front of it, and a for-real tiki bar on the oversized porch, with a crooked sign proclaiming its name.

“Who’s Alex Fierro?” Mayah asked.

“That’s who I used to be, before I was Turned,” said Xander. He’d been sitting to the side drinking a neon-green cocktail with a little umbrella in it, and giving them annoying and unsolicited knife-throwing advice.

“It was like Alex died, so I decided to be Xander instead. Which was good, because Alex was a stupid fuck who didn’t love Jenny, even though she loved me. Him. Luckily she found me and I realized how awesome she was, so I built her a beach and a tiki bar.”

That almost made sense. Mayah said politely, “How incredibly… Xander of you.”

He grinned at her. “I rock. So when Jenny agreed to be my forever mate, I named the tiki bar after dead Alex me, the stupid fuck. RIP.”

His son Brandon, in panther form, sneaked up and pounced on him. Xander expertly wrestled him to the porch floor while keeping his drink from spilling.

Brandon Changed to human. “I wanna throw knife,” he proclaimed.

“Can’t,” Xander said. “Mama says no knives until you’re five.”

“I wanna throw knife now,” Brandon insisted. He was scowling.

Xander sighed. “You really want your mother to find out I gave you a knife to play with? When she has all those pregnant hormones going on? I can’t even describe what a bad plan that is. Come on, I’ll read you a story. Go get one of your books off the bar.”

Brandon scowled for another minute, and then went over, climbed up on a barstool and got a small storybook. He brought it back and snuggled into Xander’s lap.

“Ahh, The Gashlycrumb Tinies. An excellent choice. Entertaining and educational.” Xander opened the book and began reading.

‘A is for Amy, who fell down the stairs.’

He turned the page.

‘B is for Basil, assaulted by bears.’

Kira stopped in mid-throw. “Are you seriously reading him a book about kids dying horrible deaths?”

Xander looked up. “How is he ever going to play Alphabet Death if he doesn’t know the alphabet? And all the ways to kill someone? This book has it all.”

Kira rolled her eyes and threw the knife into the target. “Three points,” she said, going to retrieve it. “And why the fuck are you teaching a three-year-old to play Alphabet Death?”

“He’ll be four soon.” Xander turned a page.

“What’s wrong with this Alphabet Death thing?” Mayah asked. “Except for, you know, the death part.”

“A) it’s a drinking game,” Kira said, as Xander read on. “And B) you have to go around the table and everyone comes up with a way to kill someone, for fuck’s sake.”

“In alphabetical order,” Xander added. “You can’t repeat any. If you can’t think of one before time is up, you drink.”

“Don’t forget to tell Brandon not to sit where he’s going to get ‘q’,” Jasmin said as she lined up her shot. “‘Q’ sucks.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows that.” He turned a page and read about another hapless child, this one thrown out of a sleigh.

Kira shook her head at Xander. “No one should allow you to raise a child.”

“See, that’s why I’m not having cubs,” Jasmin said, throwing a bulls-eye. “Everyone judges you if you happen to suck at it. And there’s too many rules.”