Emily sucked in a deep breath. Dad had stopped looking at the vehicle in the distance and was now looking at her. He had a hard edge in his eyes, as though he was daring her to bring up the issue.
“We’ve not talked about all the things I had to help you do.” She said it all in one breath. “Helping you use the toilet. Take your bath . . .”
“Oh, my God, Emily!” Dad retorted, frowning deeply.
Emily’s anger stirred. “No, Dad, we have to talk about it. It was a traumatic experience for you.”
“Even if I needed therapy, Young Lady, I wouldn’t go to you. I’d go to a therapist!” he shot back at her.
She was immediately hurt by his tone and by him calling her Young Lady. He only used that term when he was upset with her. But she knew she was not doing anything wrong. She was trying to help him, and he was resisting her help. It made her angry.
“Right, Dad, and how many therapists would understand that your wife was an owl shifter and was possibly killed by an evil rove who later ensnared your mind for a year, while your teenage daughter—who, by the way, is also a shifter—had to take care of you in every way for that year?”
Dad glared at her. He remained silent. He had no reply to that.
“We need to talk about this, Dad, if not for you, then for me,” Emily said finally. “I can’t keep walking around pretending that everything is fine with us, when for a year, I’ve had to see and do things no teenage daughter should have to see or do. And now you’re back to your right mind, and you’re behaving like it never happened?”
“I didn’t mean to be like that,” Dad breathed. “I thought you wouldn’t—” His voice wavered. He frowned. She knew he hated being emotional.
Emily looked away. “Well, that’s what it felt like.”
Dad was about to say something but never got the chance because the driver’s door opened and out stepped the eldest Alfred sibling.
10
The first words to come out of Dad’s mouth were: “Go inside.”
Emily frowned immediately. “No way. I’m not leaving you all by yourself out here with no backup.”
“They can’t get to me here,” Dad pointed out.
“Yes, but you can go to them,” Emily replied in haste. “And that is exactly the type of thing I think you might do!”
Dad met her gaze. “You think I’m going to do something stupid.” It sounded more like a statement than an actual question.
Emily refrained from replying.
“Let me do the talking,” Dad said finally.
The eldest Alfred gingerly moved toward them. Dad was about to step off the porch to meet him when Emily grabbed his arm and held him back.
“Hold on,” she said. “We don’t know exactly where the defense boundary is.”
The young rove came within five yards of the porch and hit an invisible wall of . . . was that electricity? Sparks flew in all directions as he got caught in the field, where he began to smoke and shriek in pain as he struggled to withdraw from the blow.
It took him a while—and a humongous amount of struggle—to yank himself away from the field. He collapsed on the ground, smoke billowing from his skin so much so that he was shrouded beneath it for a moment. The field of electricity shimmered for a second, outlining the house in a dome-shaped bubble before it flickered back to its invisible state.
“Well, at least we know where the shield is,” Emily muttered.
They still hadn’t taken their eyes off the rove on the ground five yards in front of them. Emily, in the back of her mind, wished he was dead, or at least decommissioned. She wished the high-voltage electricity that had been coursing through that guy’s body a moment earlier was sufficient enough to either kill him or take him out of the fight permanently.
She didn’t want to wish anybody dead. That was too extreme for her. Nevertheless, if his being dead was the only way they were going to be free from the rove, then so be it. Then that was what she wanted.
Ahead, the inhabitants of the Land Rover had not stirred. They had not even attempted to come help their older brother. It must have been obvious that whatever had happened to him could not be fatal. If it was, surely they’d have come out to help.
Soon, the smoke ceased, expelling itself from the Alfred’s body, and he sat up, revealing the damage.
His robe was burned in several places: his chest, thighs, and portions of his legs. His skin, however, remained unsullied. He had a playful smirk on his face, and he looked directly at Emily.
A question popped into Emily’s head, but Dad was already walking down the porch steps. He stopped half a yard from the invisible field. The rove was only two yards away now. Nothing separated them save two invisible things: the air and the magical protective shield around the house.
“Stand up, return to your vehicle, take the rest of your family, and leave this property.” Dad used his best military voice.
The younger man jumped to his feet. He appeared unfazed by the veiled threat in Dad’s tone. He just smiled.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” the young man said. “Maybe if you come outside, we can talk things over.”
Dad took a single step forward.
“Dad, no!” Emily shrieked. It drew both men’s attention. The young man’s gaze was so intense that it made Emily shudder.
Dad gave a slight nod. He wasn’t planning on doing anything rash. At least not tonight.
“Oh, enough with all the cloak and dagger crap!” The young man flapped his hands in the air in exasperation. “I know you’re not going to come out
