“Dad?” He shot me a suspicious look. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?” He looked at Morningstar over my shoulder, and… was that a scowl? Did he just scowl at Valentine?
I turned to my real dad. He was chatting up Lamia, completely ignoring my parents. Déjà-vu. Sariel and his parents were two tables away from us, and I thought Valentine would have been in his element with them. He was just as fake as Raguel and Ariela.
“Have you met my adoptive parents?”
Morningstar turned to me, beaming. But there was a strain in his smile.
“Yes, yes. They introduced themselves before you arrived.” He said it as if they’d offended him simply by approaching him. “Lovely people, yes. They did a great job, so that’s all I need to declare that I like them. Your mom is most charming.”
“Really?” I whispered. “You like them? Wow! That’s a relief, I must tell you. I was nervous.”
“Nothing to be nervous about, daughter. We had a little chat… It’s all good.”
My ears perked. I imagined myself as a cat who’d been relaxed and at ease just a second before, and then she heard the tiniest sound that could have been a critter.
“A little chat? About what?”
“About how things should be from now on. Your real father is here, Mila! There’s no need for you to live with your adoptive parents anymore.”
My shoulders tensed. Not that I particularly wanted to live with Stepan and Ilena, but living with Morningstar wasn’t an option, either. In fact, I was thinking of getting my own place. What was it with supernatural people and sticking with their families for fucking centuries?! Hadn’t they heard of moving out at eighteen? Maybe their eighteen was one hundred…
“You shouldn’t have talked about this in my absence,” was all I could manage. I could feel the blood boiling in my veins.
“Why not? I think it’s only fair that they should know where they stand.” He exchanged a gaze with my mom, which resulted in her sipping her wine hurriedly. “Oh, and I hope you packed your bags.”
“Why would I pack my bags?” I had every intention of spending this Christmas at the Academy, too.
“You’re coming home with me. Our first Christmas together! Can you believe it?”
No, I cannot believe it. My vocal cords weren’t as cooperative as my brain.
“No, she cannot believe it, because it’s not going to happen,” Stepan spoke for me, and for once, he wasn’t out of line.
Something happened when my two dads locked eyes over the table. I could feel it in the air. Tension fell over our little party, and even GC’s parents and Paz’s mother fell silent. Corri stopped her flappity-flap dance and settled in the middle of the table, on top of the fruit bowl. The tiny hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end. I leaned back in my chair, suddenly feeling like this wasn’t my fight.
“We’ve talked about this,” Morningstar said with a forced smile. “I told you Mila is going to spend the holidays with me.”
“And I told you that’s going to happen over my dead body!” He raised his voice, which drew unwanted attention.
I bit the inside of my cheek and exchanged a glance with my mom. She was just as lost and confused as I was. From the corner of my eye, I saw Headmaster Colin approach our table.
Valentine narrowed his blue eyes at Stepan. “That can be arranged.”
What the hell was going on?! My two fathers were fighting over me? Why?! Neither of them actually cared about me. Morningstar had only sought me out because he knew about the prophecy, and he probably wanted to make sure I wouldn’t take him out anytime soon. Stepan Lazarov had never loved me as a daughter. He’d abused me emotionally and physically, called me names, made fun of me, bullied me until I couldn’t take it anymore and I started hurting myself. I pulled at my long gloves to make sure they covered my arms perfectly. They came two inches over my elbows, so I was safe.
“Mila, would you like to dance?”
What the fuck?! It wasn’t Headmaster Colin’s voice that had startled me, but his request. I looked at him, mouth agape, feeling like a dumb fish who’d just been pulled out of the water and left to die on the beach.
“I… mmm… Yes, of course.” How could I have refused him? You don’t just say “no” to the Headmaster of Grim Reaper Academy. “I’d love to.”
He took my hand by the very tips of my gloved fingers and led me to the center of the ball room. A few couples were dancing on the soft tunes of a ballad. This is… too romantic. As Mason Colin positioned his other hand on my waist so lightly that I could barely feel it, the song changed. It wasn’t much better, but still slightly more appropriate.
“I’m sorry, Miss Morningstar. I wanted to have a word with you.”
From up close, Headmaster Colin was quite handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, strong… I wondered if he had anyone. A wife, or a girlfriend…