her calls or returning her messages. Must be a generation thing.”
Emma winced. “Yeah, I really am sorry about that. I didn’t realize you’d been so worried.”
“I’m a dad. It’s my job to worry. Anyway, the other reason I couldn’t call you is because Olivia insisted that I come out and see you in person.”
“But why?” Emma blurted out before she could stop herself. “I mean, she doesn’t know that Induction isn’t really canceled, so she would hardly tell you to come out and see me about it.”
“No, it has nothing to do with that,” he assured her. “It’s just that last night at about midnight she suddenly decided that the baby’s room was the wrong shade of blue—apparently duck-egg blue and sky blue are two completely different colors. The thing is, she got out of bed and started going through a box to find her color charts, but instead she found one of your mom’s books.”
“She did?” Emma felt her heart start to pound as her dad nodded.
“And to be honest, I thought it could’ve waited until we were back, but Olivia absolutely insisted that if the books were important enough for you to come out and pick them up last night, then it was important enough for me to bring this one straight to you.” As he spoke, he pulled a slim leather-bound book out of his coat pocket and passed it over.
A lump formed in her throat as she took the book. The cover felt dry and cracked against her skin, and for a moment she let her fingers rest on it as she tried to imagine her mom doing the same thing. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her and she flipped it open. The wafer-thin pages crackled as if in displeasure at being disturbed, but Emma hardly noticed as she studied the contents. It was a textbook, and every now and then, in faded ink, her mom had written notes in her achingly familiar loopy handwriting.
Without even reading it, Emma instinctively knew that this was what she had been looking for.
“Thank you so much,” she gulped in a raspy voice as relief and gratitude mingled together, before she impulsively added, “A-and thank Olivia for me too.”
For a moment her dad almost looked surprised before he gave her a warm smile. “Anyway, I guess I’d better go if I don’t want to miss my flight.”
“Actually.” Emma took a deep breath as she let her fingers trace a pattern on the cover of the book he had given her. “Before you go, can you tell me if Mom ever mentioned anything called a darkhel to you?”
“A darkhel?” He wrinkled his nose the way Emma remembered his doing when she was a kid. “It’s not ringing any bells. Is it a dragon?”
“Not exactly. So do you remember her ever talking about any other elementals? Maybe one she was having a problem with? Different from her normal missions.”
This time her dad instantly shook his head. “Never. Your mom truly was an amazing woman and she never had a mission that she didn’t complete—okay, well, that’s a lie, she was dismal at doing PTA baking duties in your old school before your sight came through and you moved to Burtonwood. That was when I first mastered my famous triple-layer chocolate cake.”
Emma smiled. “I didn’t know that,” she said, surprised and momentarily distracted. She didn’t tend to think of her life before Burtonwood much. Spontaneously she asked, “Was it weird being married to a slayer?”
“I don’t know if ‘weird’ is the right word. It had certain challenges—none of which I would have changed. But let’s say it’s nice to not worry if Olivia is going to come home from a day at the hospital with her leg half eaten by an iganu dragon.”
“Iigaanual dragon,” Emma automatically corrected as she rolled her eyes. “And Mom’s leg wasn’t half eaten, just a tiny cut. It didn’t even scar.”
“And now you sound just like her.”
“Rea—” Emma started to say, but before she could finish, a static buzz rang in her ear, and she only just stopped herself from crying out from the pain. Instead, instinct made her spin around just in time to see the darkhel on the far side of the practice field, black against the pale beams of the overhead lights. Her sore eye started to water and a stab of fear went racing straight to her heart.
“Dad.” She instantly spun back toward him and all but pushed him into the car.