Page 92 of A Bond with the Dark

“Thank you,” I say while Dom finishes his hug with Chrissy.

“It was nice to meet you both,” Dom says, holding his hand out to Derek, who takes it and shakes. “And you,” he says toward Gauge. “You and I still have our Mario Kart rematch to do!”

Gauge laughs as Dom squats to hug him. “Okay!”

“Drive safe,” I tell them, wrapping an arm around Dom as they head to their car.

Hilda’s loading a crock pot into the back of their car, so Dom lets me go to run and help.

“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight, Dominic? So, we can get to know you better,” Hilda says, shutting the trunk after Maggie adds the empty food trays.

Dom’s green eyes brush mine for a passing moment, and in them, I can tell he’s asking for my acceptance.

“Yeah,” I say, “come over for dinner. I’ll make something.”

“Okay,” he smiles, and it’s settled.

I hope my aunts won’t pry too hard.

I see some rustling in the bushes off to the side that causes me to branch my look sideways. What appears to be a skinny white girl with long red hair, brown boots, and blue jeans is skulking behind a tree. I’m almost sure it’s my sister Laureya.

Shaking it off as my imagination, I open the door to my vehicle and get in, though I watch the place I think I saw her for any movement.

Nothing but a big black crow flies away.

Later on, back at my house, after putting everything away from the celebration, I’m pulling things out of the fridge to make nachos and handing them to Lydia. She loves to cook and is fantastic at it, so I always give her free reign in the kitchen.

“So, where are you from, Dom?” Maggie asks him as she and Hilda sit down at the kitchen table.

I listen intently, excited to see how fast he can tell his human story.

“I was born in Florence,” Dom says easily as he moves to sit with them, “but I was raised in New York.”

“Oh, Florence?” Maggie swoons. She’s the aunt who loves all things Italian.

“Yes,” he replies, pouring some water from the pitcher I’d put out on the table, “but I was so young I don’t remember much of it.”

“Do you still have family there?” Hilda asks, propping her elbow on the table.

Dom’s gaze flickers to mine as I grab a knife from the drawer.

I know what he’s thinking.

Not for a very long time.

“Most of my family is in the Lake George area.”

Hilda’s jaw drops and her eyes blow wide. “Lake George?” She turns to look at me.

“Yes, Aunt Hilda,” I say, tossing the lettuce into the sink. “We found we had that in common right away.”

“That’s so amazing,” Hilda says, returning her attention to Dom. “We used to go every year when Sayah was a tot. So many fond memories of that lake.”

“And what do your parents do, Dom?” Lydia asks, starting the hamburger meat as I finish with the lettuce and wash the tomatoes.

“My dad is a trauma surgeon, and my mom runs an online boutique,” Dom replies, fidgeting with his paper napkin.

“Oooh, a boutique!” Maggie exclaims, “What sort of things does she make?”

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