“He died, Fallon.”
“I know. It was the first Samhain I was gone. It was, during the ritual, the first … rushing in of power, real power in me. I called him, I guess. I didn’t realize it, not really. And that night, I snuck out to try to track the wolf, and I met him. My sire.”
“Max.” Carefully, Lana set the knife down, walked over to sit. “On Samhain, when the veil thins.”
How her mother would feel, Fallon couldn’t know. But it had to be said.
“He came to me. He loved you, Mom, and me. He’s proud of you, and me. We walked together in the woods, and I took him to the faerie glade. We had the whole night to talk, for me to really know him.”
Fallon went to Lana, knelt down, took her hands. “You need to know what he told me. You need to know he’s happy, and he’s grateful you found Simon.”
“Oh, Fallon.”
As tears fell on their joined hands, Fallon squeezed tighter. “He’s grateful you found someone so good, so strong, someone you love and who loves you, and me. He’s happy you—we—built a life and family.”
“You had that time with him, and that—I can’t even tell you what that means to me. You both got back something that was stolen. I loved him, Fallon. I see him when I look at you and love him. But—”
Fallon felt something release inside her because now she knew. She knew what her mother felt.
“You loved him, and love him, but Simon Swift is the love of your life. Not just your mate, your husband, not just the father of your children. The love of your life. I know it, feel it. I’m glad of it. I’m so glad.”
“You’re so grown-up. I missed so much, so many changes, so many firsts.”
“I kissed a boy.”
“Oh.” Torn between laughter and tears, Lana cupped Fallon’s face. “Mick, right?”
“How did you know?”
“Moms know. Was it lovely?”
“It was … nice. He’s nice when he’s not being a butt. Sort of like Colin. Huh, I just realized that. It was nice,” she said again, “but he’s not going to be the love of my life. I don’t know that I’ll have one of those anyway.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t ever put up blocks to love. But,” she added, “that kind of love can definitely wait a few years.”
“I thought I was so grown-up.”
“Don’t contradict your mother when she’s being contradictory.”
Fallon laid her head on Lana’s lap. “I have a lot more to tell you, to tell you and Dad.” She eased back, stood. “But they’re coming back.”
“I don’t hear them.”
“It’s probably the elf blood.”
“What?”
“A lot to tell you,” Fallon repeated.
Nobody, witch, faerie, elf, baked a ham like her mother. Nobody put on a celebration dinner to compare. They ate like kings, with candles flickering and the fire crackling.
She noted the pecking order in brotherworld hadn’t changed. Colin still lorded it over the others with his firstborn-male status. Travis could still, when he wanted, level Colin with wit and words. Ethan remained sunny of nature.
When she caught herself wondering how she could help hone their individual strengths, shore up weaknesses for what was to come, she shoved the thoughts aside.
Not yet. Not yet.
She waited until after dinner, when the boys grumbled about kitchen duty.
“I want to check on the horses. Dad, maybe you’ll come out with me.”
“Sure. I’d like another look at that super steed of yours.”
He took her hand as they walked in the cooling night from the house to the stables.
“What do you want to tell me?”
“I never could fool you. I have a lot, a lot to tell you and Mom together. But I already told her this, and I need to tell you. I met Max Fallon.”
“How’d you manage that?”
The ease of the question, the simplicity and ease of it, relaxed her tensed muscles.
“You know, magicks, Samhain, ritual, stuff.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We had most of the night to walk and talk.”
“Good.” He opened the stable door. “That’s good.”
“You’re not going to ask what we talked about, what he said to me?”
“Honey, he’s your father.”
“So are you.”
“That’s right.” He grabbed her face, kissed her. “You got two for the price of one.”
Just that simple, she thought. Just that simple with him. That was strength, she realized, knowing at that moment every man she met, any man she considered, would be measured by this one.
Any man, every man would have a high bar to scale.
She moved to the stall, to Grace, stroked the mare’s head, offered one of the carrots in her pocket.
“You told me Max Fallon was a hero.”
“He was.”
“He said the same about you. He said you were a hero.”
“I’m a farmer.”
Tears shined in her eyes, but good ones. Loving ones. “You’re my hero.”
He drew her against him. “There can’t be anything that means more to a father than hearing his daughter say that. Nothing tops it.”
They walked to Laoch. “Must be twenty-two hands. Back in the day, I’d’ve pulled out my smartphone, got a video of you on him.”
“You taught me to ride, to build with wood, to throw a ball, to block a punch, to love and respect the land, to be generous and not to take any bullshit.”
“I didn’t teach you that mouth.”
“Sure you did.”
He had to laugh. “Guilty.”
She offered the second carrot to her father. “You give it to him.”
“Here you go, big guy.”
“I know Max Fallon now. I love him now, not just as a picture on a book or the words inside it. Not just from stories I’ve been told, but through the man. I know you. I know now everything you taught me mattered and helped me to be who I am. I know more of you, through the man you are, from being away.
“Max Fallon was my sire. You’re Daddy. And I love you.”
He held her close, held her tight. “You just found something to top it.”
She knew her parents, their habits, doubted they’d changed. She waited until her brothers slept, until her parents assumed she did. Then she went out to the kitchen.
They sat, as she’d known they would after a momentous day, at the table, drinking wine and talking.
“Can’t sleep? You must be overtired,” Lana said, rising. “All the excitement after a long trip. Nearly two days’ ride, you said. The cottage where you stayed. Let me get you something to help you rest.”
“I’m not tired. It was over a day’s ride to get there. We didn’t ride back.”
“Did you actually fly all that way on the stallion?”
She shook her head at Simon.
“This is a good place to start,” she decided. “Even though it’s the end instead of the beginning. Have you ever flashed?” she asked her mother.
“In what way?”
“Well, like …” She flicked her wrists, vanished, reappeared across the room.
“Oh my God,” Lana managed while Simon let out a delighted laugh.
“Do it again.”
“Simon.”
“Come on, seriously. Do it again.”
Lana pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I’m going to need more wine.”
Obliging them both, Fallon flashed to the pantry, flashed back with the bottle. “I had some wine.”
“Did you?” Lana asked, very coolly.
“Really watered down. Sort of medicinal. Anyway, I could teach you to flash.”
“I’ve heard some can, but as I’ve never seen it myself, I thought it was just a legend.”
“No, and I can teach you. You have more power than you use, and what you’ve used since … for a long time it’s almost always been domestic or healing or growing. You have more than Max did because—”
“You grew in me.”
“Yeah. So I can teach you that, and other things. Not everything,” Fallon qualified, “but more things.”
“You said something about elf blood before. What did you mean?”
“I have some of all. Mallick said that’s part of the meaning of The One. Some of all in one. Me.”
Simon decided more wine wouldn’t hurt, and poured it. “Are you going to grow wings now?”
“I don’t think so, but … maybe. I’ll be able to shift when that comes into me.”
“Into what?”