Touch of Evil - Cecy Robson Page 0,66

Dad replies.

He pulls Mom onto his lap. If she were human, Mom would have spilled the eggs across the wooden floor.

“Eat with me,” Dad tells her. “You’re doing too much.”

Mom kisses his cheek and places the pan on the table, allowing Dad to feed her. It’s a mate thing. A protective thing. I’ve been exposed to it a lot in my life. But it always strikes me as intimate and something I shouldn’t watch. I leave the table, returning with a large serving tray topped with bacon. I frown when I find Mom’s arms wrapped securely around Dad’s neck. Her shoulder length, white hair brushes against his chest with how hard she clutches him.

“You’re going hunting again, aren’t you?” I ask.

Mom lowers her eyelids as if in pain. Dad smiles softly at her, stroking her hair until she opens her eyes. She doesn’t return his smile. It bothers me to see her upset.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“There’s a dark witch causing trouble in Lesotho,” Dad replies, continuing his slow strokes over Mom’s hair.

I reach for more bacon and eggs. “Where’s that?” I ask.

“Africa,” Mom replies. “It’s a territory known for diamond smuggling and dark magic.”

“Cue the witch,” I guess. Not all witches are dark. Last summer, I met Bellissima, one of the strongest light witches of her kind, along with her daughter, Guinevere, or was it Genevieve? It was something like that. They were okay. But dark witches really suck and give weres plenty of problems to chase.

As Guardians of the Earth, it’s our job to protect the unsuspecting human populace from things that hunt them. Those creatures that go bump in the night? We eat them.

I shove a forkful of eggs into my mouth and stab a few more pieces of bacon. “How’d you hear about the witch?” I ask.

“She’s protecting the diamond smugglers in the area,” Dad explains.

I feel my eyes darken and a growl build deep within me. “In exchange for what?”

Dad doesn’t blink. “Sacrifices, mainly human women and children.”

I look to Mom, not liking where this is headed. “The women are deeply oppressed throughout the region,” she explains. “When you find women fraught with worries of violence and struggling to feed their families, they tend to be more pure of heart and intent, and therefore easier to victimize. The children…” Mom straightens, passing her fingertips along the gray peppering Dad’s temple. “There’s nothing more sacred than a child’s soul.”

“Which makes the blood sacrifices she seeks more valuable. The purer the soul, the more power each kill will grant her,” I finish for her. They nod. “Can I go with you?”

“No,” Mom answers at the same time Dad says, “Maybe.”

I perk up, my inner wolf totally losing it. “I can go?”

Mom shoots Dad a reprimanding look. “Aric is almost of age, Eliza,” Dad gently reminds her. “He’s far surpassed seasoned weres in strength, ability, and cunning.”

Mom leaves Dad’s lap, taking the empty pan with her. “No,” she says.

Dad and I exchange glances. I know better than to speak up. Mom walks to the large porcelain sink and dumps the pan, gripping the edge. “Our world isn’t what it once was,” she says. “It’s changing in ways even the wisest among us never predicted, Aidan.”

Dad gets up slowly, briefly pausing behind her before his hands encircle her waist. He kisses her shoulder. “The world is changing,” he agrees. “But it’s our duty to maintain it, so good continues to prevail.”

“There are many weres across the globe now,” she reminds him. “Unlike generations ago, when our kind struggled to breed and flourish.” She looks up at Dad, her soft brown eyes pleading. “Request that another pack or Leader go in your place. I hate it when you hunt. I hate it when you leave me. Please, my love, don’t take our son, too.”

“All right,” he tells her.

“Wait,” I interrupt. “Don’t I get a say?” I don’t know who’s more bummed, me or my wolf.

Dad turns around, keeping Mom against him. “I need you here to protect your mother,” he says.

I raise my eyebrows at him. He grins and so does Mom. She’s almost sixty and Dad is seventy-five. Although they tried, they didn’t have me until late in life. That doesn’t mean either couldn’t wipe the floor with anyone who messed with them. And if I wasn’t around, Mom would be the one hunting alongside Dad, just as they did for years before I came along.

“Aric,” Dad says. “I’m not yet sure I’m going. There’s already a local pack