Cissy’s eyes narrow. “If you say so.”
I make a great show of checking my watch. “Oh, wow, look at the time. I gotta go or my Mom will freak!”
Cissy slowly exits the car. I can almost hear the rusty gears of her brain working overtime. I’m going to get a call later, you can bet on it. The moment she’s clear of the curb, I rev the engine and speed home (as much as anyone can speed in Betsy). I stomp through the front door.
Hopefully, the drama for the evening is over.
Chapter Five
I chuck my keys onto the kitchen table and march straight through the living room on the way to bed. I hardly register that Mom sits front-and-center on the living room couch, a pile of ghoul robe patterns beside her.
“You’re back early.” She pats the empty spot beside her on the couch, but I’m in no mood for a mother-daughter bonding session.
I stop and pretend that it’s really important to smooth out the folds of my neon orange dress. “It was time to go.”
“Was everyone wearing hoop skirts?” Mom eyes the hem of my gown. “In five minutes, I can sew that hoop back in for you.”
“No one was wearing hoop skirts, Mom.”
She leans forward on the couch. “What happened, Myla-la?”
I launch into a rare sharing session with my mother. This thing with Lincoln was just too strange. I really need some advice. “Well, there was this thrax boy at the party who–”
“Thrax at the party?” All blood drains from Mom’s face. “There can’t be any thrax at the party.” She races to a nearby table, picking up Zeke’s invitation. “It says right here; the event was for ghouls and demons. Even if they were invited, thrax wouldn’t be within a mile of that place.”
Great. I’ve set off her hair-trigger for worrying. Maybe I can give her some additional information and move onto my question. “I’m telling you, they were at the party. Angels were there too.”
“Angels were there too?!” Mom drops the invite, her hands visibly shaking.
This is not going well. “You do realize you’re repeating everything I say?”
“Angels and thrax.” Mom stumbles backwards until she half-falls onto the couch. “That can’t be right.”
“It’s all good. There’s some kind of alliance going on, I think. Thrax, angels, demons, and ghouls…Everybody’s one big happy family.” I give her a look that says ‘now, can we get on to my question?’
“Those four all in the same room.” Mom slowly shakes her head from side to side. “Did they fight? Did any of them touch you? Hurt you?”
“The thrax boy asked me to dance and–”
Whipping up from the couch, Mom races over. Her hands cup either side of my face. “Do you feel alright?” She stares into my eyes like my head will explode.
“Enough, Mom.” I step back, breaking contact with her. Anger and disappointment churn in my belly. I have so had it with her over-protectiveness about nothing. “Look, I get that I’m all you have. I get that you’re worried about me. But I’d appreciate some female advice on what happened with this boy and you’re not listening.”
“This boy?” Her chocolate eyes narrow. “Or, this thrax?”
Unholy moley.
“Forget it, Mom.” I take a few steps toward the front door, pause, and turn back. “You know, maybe I’d rather have latrine duty if it means I can be on my own. Because this–” I motion back and forth between us “–isn’t working.”
Mom’s eyes brim with tears. “Be safe, Myla. That’s all I ask.”
“I know, Mom. That’s the problem.” I storm outside, slamming the front door behind me. Tracking my orange gown through the mud, I pace around our backyard. Why does Mom always have to freak out about every little thing? Sighing, I slump against the back outer wall and stare up at the gray sky. For some reason, it really bothers me tonight that we never see the moon in Purgatory.
Voices echo in from the opened window above my head. It’s Walker and Mom.
“Camilla, we need to talk.” I crouch lower.
“Not if Myla’s here.” I hear rustling noises as she checks the house. “Okay, we’re fine. What’s going on?”
“You can’t hide her forever. Verus knows; she saw it in a vision ages ago. We need to figure out how to introduce Myla to her true heritage.”
I pop my hands over my mouth. True heritage? I may actually get some useful intel about who I am tonight. My heart kicks in my chest; excitement pours through me. Yes, yes, YES!
Mom’s voice quivers as she speaks. “It’s not the angels I’m worried about, it’s the ghouls. You know them. If they knew who her father really was, they’d try to own her.”
Whoa, there. The ghouls would own me because of my father. My stomach turns sour. That must mean my dad’s a ghoul. A nasty, rule-loving, worm-eating loser of a ghoul. I grip my elbows. That’s not something I’d ever considered before.