I sat down as he dished up the rice that was going with this delicacy. He plopped a helping of the chicken and mushroom stew on top of the rice before putting the plate in front of me.
He did the same with his plate, and then he said grace before we dug in.
“So, how was your day?”
“Good. Mrs. Finn wants to pull some strings.”
My father froze.
“Relax, I told her.”
The hard lines on my father’s face eased. “What did you tell her exactly?”
“That your job is of high-security level and that we won’t be staying long. It would be something I’ll look at after I graduate.”
Dad nodded. He had that look on his face again. Dad was contemplating something, but I did not know what that was. He sighed, and I knew tonight wasn’t that night to get whatever was on his chest out in the open.
But it didn’t mean that I would not push. “Why do we only stay for three months?”
“Elena,” he said and put down his fork. He rubbed his face hard. Something he had never done before, and my hopes climbed a level higher.
Dad’s hands dropped back on the table, and he stared at me lovingly. His lips slightly tugged in the corner of his mouth, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. His dimples didn’t show. “You are not ready yet. I promise, soon, okay.”
I knew it was a waste of time to push this subject further, and we carried on eating our dinner.
When was I going to be ready? At sixteen? One could hope.
BLAKE
A family sat in one booth nestled against the wall a few tables from us. Their children were loud, impatient little fuckers. The noises that left their mouths grated on my scales.
Father was still on a call as we waited for our burgers and fries to be delivered.
Plates dropped to the floor, and the waitress cussed. The clatter of change hitting the tabletop with the trucker saying goodbye, followed by the door’s bell. My scales shivered.
A spoon clinking as it stirred sugar into coffee, followed by the sizzle of burgers on the grill and fries lowered into hot oil, made my scales want to plop.
“Blake!” my father spoke, and I lifted my head. He stared at my jaw muscles, pumping. I missed the quiet of Paegeia. I needed to let the beast out. How long were we going to stay in this place?
“Deep breaths, calm down.”
I took a deep breath and quietened my hearing. It was like turning the volume button down. The noises that grated against my ears finally disappeared.
“Did she contact them yet?”
Father shook his head. “She hasn’t seen his new number. Just be patient. You spoke to her today. That is a good thing.”
If you could call that conversation. I got bowled over about how similar we were. She loved art, had a huge tote bag with her that carried some drawings, and I would give anything to see just how good she was.
She loved Wuthering Heights. It was one of my favorite books, but no one in Paegeia knew that about me. I had a reputation to protect. I was the alpha dragon, pre-destined for evil. Reading soppy stories like Wuthering Heights or any book would hurt my reputation. Not to mention the poems that I loved to write.
I wondered if Isaac knew where I was. Not that we spoke anymore. That thing with Ty had led to a full-on fight, and how Isaac had to shift into his eagle form to keep me off Ty was the last they could take.
I rubbed my face hard and found my father’s eyes on me again.
“She looks just like him?” It barely came out.
“Who? Albert?” my father asked, and I nodded.
