lot of pure human mixed in. It’s like taking a single drop of food coloring and adding a gallon of milk. The food coloring will alter the color slightly, but for the most part it’s still milk. There simply can’t be that much seraph DNA left in the breed.”
“There’s not,” Cameron said. “I would be able to tell if there were. I would be able to feel them.”
Brooke smoothed antibiotic ointment onto the stitches and covered them with a bandage.
“In an effort to contain the purity of the race,” Jared continued, examining her handiwork, “there has been a lot of inbreeding as well. From what I understand, they’re not right in the head.”
“Then you are related,” Glitch said to Cameron.
“Their attacking Jared proves they have a screw loose,” Brooke said, ignoring Glitch. “What did they hope to gain?”
“To leave Lorelei vulnerable,” Cameron said.
“Me?” I asked, alarmed. “What do I have to do with the descendants?”
“I have no idea what they would want with you, unfortunately,” Jared said.
Cameron raked a hard gaze over him. “They tracked you here. When you showed up a few weeks ago, they tracked you.”
“Or they were invited.” Jared’s accusation was as smooth as caramel. He settled a withering stare on him. “You’re the hybrid. You’re like them.”
“I’ve never even seen one of those things.” Cameron bit down in an effort to control his temper. “I didn’t even know for sure they existed until you showed up.”
“And yet here they are.”
“And here you are,” Cameron volleyed, baiting the only one in the room who could kill us all with a thought. He was looking at Jared like he’d never seen him before, like he was different somehow.
After a moment, Jared leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his fingertips. “They must have an agenda. They attacked me for a reason.” He looked at me, his brows drawn together. “They have to be after you. It’s the only explanation.”
I really hated to hear that.
“I still think we should get you to the hospital,” I said, switching the focus off me. “You could have a concussion.”
“Hey,” Cameron said, clearly offended. “I got this.”
The corner of Jared’s mouth lifted into a lazy grin. He let his gaze drop to my robe. I pulled it tighter, smoothed my hair down, and tried not to concentrate too hard on the dark sparkle in Jared’s eyes, the powerful set of his shoulders. Even injured, he exuded authority, his supremacy so absolute, so pure. “I know this is going to sound dumb, but are you sure you’re okay?” I was still floored with the attention he was giving me. It was like the old Jared was back. Scraped up. Bruised. Covered in wounds. Yep, it was definitely the old Jared.
His grin widened, and I realized his gaze was glassy, as though he had a fever. “I’m fine. I’ll be ready for school in a couple of hours.”
“School?” I asked, stunned. “I think you can miss a day or two, considering the extent of your injuries.”
“She’s right. You should stay home today,” Cameron said.
I brightened. “See.”
“You’re no good to us injured,” Cameron continued.
“That’s not what I meant,” I said.
Jared looked at Cameron. “We need to figure out what’s going on.”
Cameron nodded. “There’s a new kid at school you need to meet.”
Brooke gasped. “You think he’s one of them? A descendant?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said, his expression grave.
EXPRESSIONLESS
The next morning, we got ready for school in relative silence. Except for the howling from Glitch when he got the last shower. At least cold water was invigorating.
“Would you kids like some breakfast?” Grandma asked when we made our way downstairs, shuffling off the landing one by one. She sat by Granddad at the table, drinking coffee and reading the sports section. I didn’t know why. She never watched sports.
I avoided eye contact. “We’ll just have cereal.”
“Think healthy,” Granddad said, referring to my culinary choice. I was actually thinking more along the lines of chocolaty, but okay. I took down a box of something with the word “wheat” in it. Brooke crinkled her nose and went for a toaster pastry as Glitch raided the refrigerator.
Since Plan A had gone awry, our sleuthing adventures would have to wait until tonight. At least Jared was back. That single thought occupied 98 percent of my brain function. The other 2 percent was on Plan
A. It didn’t hurt to do a little investigating. To grill the authority figures for intel. I wondered what
Grandma and Granddad knew about my other grandfather, the one on my dad’s side. They didn’t tell me the truth about my parents’ disappearance for ten years, and even then, I had to practically force it out of them. I doubted they would have told me if not for Jared’s appearance and everything that happened six months ago.
I cleared my throat. “So, I was looking at some pictures and I realized I don’t have a single one of my other set of grandparents.”
Grandma choked on her coffee, coughing a full minute before recovering, and I didn’t know if her seizure was due to my question or the fact that I was talking to them.
Granddad patted her back, his eyes rounding in surprise, when he said, “I’m not sure we have any.
Your dad didn’t bring much in the way of personal effects when he and your mom moved back here.”
I took a bite of cereal, going for nonchalance, then said, “I wonder if my chin is like his.”
And with that, Grandma and Granddad leveled the most shocked expression I’d ever seen on me. So I continued.
“I mean, you know, I don’t really have either of your chins, so I thought maybe my chin came from the other side of my family.”
Granddad recovered first. “Yes, well, you definitely have the cleft from your dad’s chin. That’s a signature McAlister trait if I ever saw one. Right, Vera?”
When Grandma didn’t answer, he elbowed her. “Right,” she said, jumping to attention. “Signature.
Spitting image. You know, chin-wise.”
“Do you think there are pictures of them somewhere?”
“Well, there are some records stored in the basement,” she said. “There might be something in there.”
“Cool. I might check it out later. Just out of curiosity.” I practically had their permission to snoop now and felt better for it.
Brooke thinned her mouth, admonishing me with her furrowed eyebrows. I stuck out my tongue, then proceeded to ignore her.
At least until Cameron came in. “The truck’s warm,” he said.
“If you guys don’t get cold,” Brooke said to him, picking up her backpack, “why do you wear jackets?”
“It’s frowned upon in society to walk around without a jacket. I used to catch all kinds of heck in grade school. Now I just get odd looks. It’s easier to conform.”
“Oh.” She strolled out the door with the rest of us behind her.
“Have a good day, pix,” Grandma said, her voice full of hope.
“You too,” I whispered without looking back.
Jared met us at Cameron’s truck, wearing his bomber jacket and jeans. His wide shoulders filled the jacket so nicely, and the brown color went well with his height.
“Hey, you,” he said, and I melted a little inside. He was already almost completely healed, at least the parts of him I could see.
“Hey.”
He reached out and brushed a thumb over my mouth.
