“Where is he now?”
“Dead. About nine months ago.”
She paused to look at him. “I’m sorry.”
Henry nodded. “Thank you.”
Karina resumed stirring the pancake batter. “How did he die?”
“Lucas bit him in half.”
She stopped. “Was he a member of your family?”
“He was. He was Lucas’s cousin on his mother’s side, and my stepbrother.”
Karina found the griddle and set it on the burners to heat up. She stirred the apples with a wooden spoon, then pulled the bacon out of the microwave and peeled it from the paper towels.
“I can do that,” Henry offered.
“Thank you.” She poured the pancake batter on the griddle in quick drips and watched the first pancake puff and bubble at the edges. “Why did Lucas kill him?”
“Adrino tried to murder Arthur.”
“Why?”
Henry smiled, a quick baring of teeth, meaningless and flat like a mask. “Adrino had raped a woman on base. As a punishment, Arthur had him chained for two months.”
“Chained?”
“In the courtyard. Eventually Adrino was let off the chain and everything went quite well, until he attempted to solidify Arthur’s blood during the last Christmas dinner. In retrospect, we should have expected it. His subspecies is prone to rashness.” Henry smiled again. “You will find that we’re a violent, vicious lot, Lady Karina. All of us hate Arthur, hate each other, hate who we are, what we are, why we are. This hate is so deep within us, it’s in our bones. Lucas hates stronger than most of us for his own reasons. But Lucas is also far more controlled in his rages than he lets on. He recognizes the simple truth: Arthur is the glue that holds us together. Arthur makes mistakes, and he’s brutal, but he’s also fair. Every tribe must have a leader. Without the leader there is chaos. May I just mention that your pancakes smell delicious? I don’t suppose there is any way I could steal one right now, is there?”
Thirty minutes later, the pancakes were done, the bacon was cooked, and Karina crossed the room to her daughter.
“Emily? Wake up . . .”
“Mommy!” Emily clutched Karina around the neck and hung on with surprisingly fierce strength.
Karina scooped her off the couch and held her close, afraid to hug the tiny body too hard. “I’m here, baby. I love you.” Emily never said “mommy.” It was always “mom.”
“You won’t leave?”
A hard knot formed in Karina’s throat. “Leaving” was Emily’s euphemism for dying. Her daughter thought she had died.
“I will try very hard not to,” she promised.
Emily hung on, and Karina gently carried her into the kitchen. “I made your favorite apples.”
Slowly Emily’s hold on her neck eased. A few seconds later she allowed herself to be put into a chair at the table.
Daniel marched into the kitchen. “Food.”
Henry nodded. “Yes.”
Daniel pulled out a chair, sat, and reached for the pancakes.
“Let’s wait for Lucas,” Henry said.
“Fuck Lucas.”
Karina looked at Daniel. Henry sighed. Daniel looked back at them, glanced at Emily, and shrugged. “They don’t like it that I swear. Do you mind if I swear?”
Emily shook her head.
“See, she doesn’t mind.”
Lucas loomed in the doorway. One moment it was empty and the next he was just there, green eyes watching her every move with a hungry light. Karina took her chair, trying to ignore it, but his gaze clasped her like an invisible chain. She looked back at him.
Emily’s eyes had grown big. She shied a little when Lucas stepped to the table, aware of his movements. Karina read fear in her daughter’s face and reached over to hold her hand. He’d given Emily no reason to fear him, yet she was clearly scared, almost as if she sensed on some primal level that he was a threat.
Lucas sat next to Karina, opposite of Daniel, and reached for the pancakes. She watched him load his plate: four pancakes, four links of sausage, six strips of bacon . . . The plate would hold no more. He pondered it, frustrated, then piled the apples atop the pancakes and drenched the whole thing in maple syrup.
It was good that she had made enough for ten people.
Lucas sliced pancakes with his fork, pierced a slice of the apple, and maneuvered the whole thing into his mouth. Karina sat on the edge of her seat, listening to the elevated tempo of her own heartbeat, watching him chew, and waited for him to throw the plate across the table. She wanted them to like the food; no, she desperately needed the three of them to like the food. Her survival depended on it.
Lucas swallowed. “Good,” he said and reached for more.
Karina slumped a little in her chair, unable to hide her relief.
“Good? It’s fucking divine,” Daniel said. “It’s the first decent meal we’ve had in weeks.”
Lucas leveled a heavy stare at him but said nothing.
“Mom,” Emily said.
“What, baby?”
“I left my backpack at Jill’s house. It has my school stuff in it.”
The three men ate, watching her.
“That will be okay, baby,” Karina said. “You have to change schools anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because we live here now and you’ll go to a special school.” The words came out painfully.
“Do I have to ride the bus?”
Karina swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. Acknowledging where they were was hard, as if she were driving nails into her own coffin. “No.”
“Why do we have to stay here?”
“This is where I work now.”
“Your mother is a slave,” Daniel said. “Lucas owns her.”
If only she could have reached across the table, she would have hit him with a closed fist so it would hurt. Karina forced neutrality into her face, pulling it on like a mask. Show nothing. Betray no weakness.
“Is a slave better than a payroll supervisor?” Emily asked.
“They’re not that different,” Karina lied. So many times before she had thought she worked like a slave, pulling in long hours, picking up project after project, perpetually behind, trying to get to the bottom of her to-do stack. She thought she had experienced the worst life could throw at her. All of it seemed so pointless now. Her memories belonged to someone else, a happier, flightier, younger person. She had a new life now and new priorities, chief of which was the welfare of her daughter. She had to keep Emily safe.
Emily poked her pancake with a fork. “What about the house? All our stuff is there . . . my Hello Kitty blanket . . .”
“We’ll get new things.” She cast a quick glance around the table but none of the three men said anything to break down her fragile promises.
“Will I get my own room?”
Karina looked to Lucas.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin, his movements unhurried. “You have to stay at the main house. You can come to visit your mother on weekends. We’ll set up a room.”
“I want to stay with Mom.” Emily’s voice was tiny.
