“I love you,” I told her earnestly.
“Of course you do.” She grinned at me. “Good food is the path to every woman’s heart. And man’s. You remember that, kid.”
I was twenty-two years old and far too old to be a ‘kid’, but I didn’t argue with her. She’d once told us that we’d always be her kids—and I’d come to accept that, even treasure it. It was far better to be someone’s kid than to be no one’s kid, no matter how old you were.
I snorted. “Sure thing, grams.”
Calli was barely forty, but I couldn’t help but tease her. I’d learned long ago that the best way to show people you love them was to tease them.
“Come on, Bloody Mary, let’s get this food to the table,” she said, chuckling.
The rest of the family was already waiting when we brought the food into the dining room, their faces lit up in anticipation. And they didn’t waste any time digging in.
“Gods, I’m starving,” Tessa said, piling a mountain of mashed sweet potatoes onto her plate. “Today was so exhausting.”
“What did you do?” I asked her, though I was pretty sure of the answer.
“Gina and I went to the Bazaar.”
The Bazaar was the largest shopping mall in town, an even mix of legal and illegal goods. There were clothes and shoes and silly things for teens. If you knew your way around, though, you could find your way to the black market section. I’d ended up there a few times while on the hunt. It was a great place to hide. Everything there looked so weird and suspicious that it was easy for criminals to blend in.
“There were so many people to catch up with, what with school starting up again soon and all. And Mindy Simpson got a tattoo! Can you believe that?”
I didn’t have a clue who Mindy Simpson was. Presumably, one of Tessa’s two hundred million friends. My sister was the queen bee of Milton High, the most popular girl in school.
“I was thinking of getting one too,” Tessa continued. “Just a little one. A rose. Everyone loves a rose.” She stole a tentative look at Calli.
“You’re not getting a tattoo.”
“But Mindy Simpson has one,” Tessa protested.
“And does Mindy Simpson understand the health risks of getting a tattoo?”
Tessa pouted out her lips in protest.
“Calli’s right,” Zane told her. “Have you even looked into the tattoo joints around here? They’re filthy. And they reuse the needles.”
“Gross,” Gin commented. Like Tessa, she was seventeen, but she was the more sensible, more reflective of the two.
Tessa, on the other hand, was all impulse. And stubborn to boot. “Bella could do it. She has all these witchy supplies, and she’s a great artist.” Tessa shot Bella her winning smile, a smile that could divide nations and crumble an empire. “I just need a little rose and a few letters of text. No biggie for a powerful witch like you.”
“Text?” Bella asked.
“A name.”
Ah, now the truth was coming out.
“What name?” Calli asked, betraying no hint of emotion.
“Rian. It’s really short, see?”
“Who the blazes is Rian?” I asked her.
“My boyfriend,” she said proudly.
“Never heard of him.”
“You don’t know who Rian is? How can you not know who Rian is?” she said, piling on the melodramatics along with the potatoes.
“Uh, maybe because you’ve never mentioned him?” I replied.
“Oh, I’ve mentioned him dozens of times. You just never listened.”
Right. I turned to Bella. “Have you ever heard of Rian?”
Bella glanced at Tessa, wincing. “The name doesn’t ring a bell. But I have been preoccupied lately,” she added quickly. She was too nice for her own good.
“I’ve heard of him,” said Gin.
Tessa smiled at her trusty sidekick.
“How long have you been dating?” I asked her.
“A week.”
“A week? You’ve only known him for a week, and you want to permanently tattoo his name on your body? That’s so reckless.”
“Leda,” my little sister replied sternly. “I love you, so don’t take this the wrong way, but you really should let go and live a little. Sometimes you need to grab your life by the horns and say, ‘You’re mine. I am in control of you.’ And if that means you have to be impulsive or reckless or whatever it takes to make you feel something, then so be it.”
“You know, I think she might be right,” Bella told me.
“Of course I am.” Tessa grinned at us. “I am very sage.”
“So tell us, oh sage one, who is this Rian?” I asked her.
Tessa held up one finger. “First off, he’s my soulmate.” She popped up a second finger. “And second of all, he’s a paranormal soldier. His unit works at the wall. They’re all so handsome, so brave and daring, always coming to the aid of people in distress.”
“They weren’t very brave or daring tonight as they sat back and watched that vampire beat us bloody,” I said. “I can’t say anything about how handsome they were, though. They were too busy hiding all the way up on their wall. Maybe I should have shot one of them down to get a look at his handsome face.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Tessa exclaimed.
No, I wouldn’t, but no one could blame a girl for fantasizing a bit. Being attacked by that vampire had hurt. Then again, if the soldiers had helped, we might not have gotten the two thousand dollars. I supposed everything happened for a reason.