“Hi,” she murmured back, finding herself backing up until she bumped up against Basil’s chest. She relaxed a little when his arms slipped around her, and then blurted, “What’s your name? You’re my father and I don’t even know your name.”
Alexander sighed and dropped the book on the bed, then took a couple steps closer to the bars. He paused, though, when Sherry stiffened again.
“I told you, my name is Alexander,” he said gently.
Sherry shifted impatiently and moved forward a step, unintentionally moving out of Basil’s arms. “I know that. But Alexander what? You were Lex Brown and Zander—”
“Marrone,” he answered before she could finish.
“Oh,” Sherry said, and then tried out the name. “Alexander Marrone. I suppose it’s okay.”
“I’m glad you approve,” her father said with amusement, and then glanced to Basil when he shifted beside Sherry.
“You aren’t Reg’s son?” Basil asked with a frown. “The one who’s been missing for . . .”
“Thirty-three years,” Alexander finished for him dryly when Basil paused with sudden realization. “Now you know where I disappeared to and why.”
“Your father’s still alive?” Sherry asked Alexander with surprise, and when he nodded, turned to Basil and said, “And you know his father?”
Basil nodded. “Alexander’s father, your grandfather, is on the council, Sherry.”
Her eyes widened incredulously when he said the word grandfather. She had family besides the aunts and uncles she saw only a couple times a year? She had no idea how to feel about that.
While she turned that over in her mind, Basil eyed her father and said, “I know where you disappeared to, but not necessarily why.”
Alexander grimaced. “My father is a very controlling man, and—”
“Shocker,” Sherry interrupted dryly, and her father’s expression filled with chagrin.
“Yeah, I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, honey,” he said with a sigh. “I am sorry about controlling you. I couldn’t think of anything else to do at the time, and I was so worried about you, but today, when you got upset . . .” Alexander shook his head. “What you said wasn’t unlike what I said to my own father before storming out of the house the last time we argued,” he admitted.
Sherry raised her eyebrows at this and asked, “How old are you?”
“Fifty-two,” he answered quietly.
“So you were twenty when you met my mom?” she asked with surprise. Every immortal she’d met until now had been over a hundred. Her father was a baby in comparison, practically like a mortal.
“Nineteen, actually,” he admitted, flushing, and then added, “A very arrogant, ignorant nineteen who thought he knew everything, and as it turns out, didn’t know a damned thing.”
Sherry turned to Basil. “He was just a kid. I mean, practically a baby for you guys. Surely the council would take that into account?”
“Sherry,” Alexander said quietly. When she turned back to him, he shook his head. “I don’t want you to worry about the council, or my punishment. That isn’t your concern, and,” he added firmly when she started to protest, “I am willing to take whatever they decide is my punishment.” He paused and smiled wryly. “I mean, I’m not looking forward to it, but . . .” He shrugged. “I earned it.”
“But—”
“Listen to me. I need you to understand,” he interrupted quietly.
Sherry sighed but closed her mouth, then glanced around and smiled in gratitude when Basil shifted behind her to pull her back against his chest and hold her again.
“As you said, I was a kid, but I was headed down the wrong road. I had a friend, Ben, who got me into mixed bloods, and—”
“What are mixed bloods?” Sherry asked with confusion.
“Blood from mortals who have ingested alcohol or drugs,” Basil said quietly.
Sherry’s eyes widened. “You were biting mortals?”
“No,” he assured her. “I hadn’t gone that far off the rails. It was bagged blood, and only alcohol mixes. They sell it at the Night Club or you can order it by the case if you want it for home.”