Page 3 of Aria's Ascension

The alarm in his voice tore at her and the pressure on the back of her head made her want to turn back, but she didn’t stop.

Before she could make it to the hallway, between one blink and the next, Aria found herself standing on the porch of her childhood home in Los Angeles.

The abrupt change wasn’t disturbing that time, it was reassuring.

Chapter 2

Tilting her head, Aria caught voices coming from inside the bright yellow house from her childhood. She knew immediately it was her parents. They hadn’t lived there in years, but their voices were unmistakable.

Before she could twist the knob, the door swung open, revealing her mom’s smiling face. She was just as Aria remembered, her dark brown eyes sparkling, her naturally curly hair straightened and cut in a bob. She was wearing her favorite bright red blouse.

“Mijita!” her mom beamed.

Aria was enfolded in a strong embrace before she could return the greeting. With a deep sigh of both happiness and longing for this to be real, she returned the hug, resting her forehead on her mom’s shoulder.

“I missed you, Amá,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Oh, sweet girl, I missed you, too. Now, get in here and tell me about all the bad men you’ve beaten up,” she demanded, pulling back from the hug to grip Aria’s shoulders, gazing down at her with an impish smile.

Aria laughed and shook her head. Her mom both hated her career and loved to listen to her tell abbreviated versions of the things she’d seen and done, watching on with a horrified, yet rapt, expression on her face.

Her mom shooed her into the house, peppering her with questions all the while. Had she met anyone? Why was she so skinny? Had she punched anyone lately? How was Foster? His wife and daughter? When was Aria going to give her some grandbabies?

Aria didn’t have time to answer one question before her mom fired off another. She was saved from responding when her dad boomed from the kitchen, “Is that my baby girl?”

“Hey, Dad.”

She smiled as she rounded the corner and saw him sitting at the kitchen table, his perpetually messy hair more grey than blonde now, thick glasses magnifying his green eyes, the same color as her own, and a huge grin on his face.

He pushed out of the chair and strode to her, wrapping her in a bear hug and swinging her around in a circle before setting her on her feet and bending low to plant a smacking kiss on the top of her head.

“It’s been too damn long since you visited, kiddo. Come on, have a seat and tell us what’s new.”

“Language, Papá!” her mom scolded, reaching up to swat at his broad shoulder lightly.

Dad shot her mom a teasing smile before responding, “Yes, my love.”

Taking a seat at the table, across from her parents once they’d seated themselves, Aria opened her mouth, but hesitated. She didn’t know what to say now that she was faced with them. She didn’t want to upset them by saying she was leaving or telling them where she’d been.

“What is it, kiddo?” her dad asked, the beginnings of a concerned frown tenting his brows.

Taking a deep breath, she met both her parents’ gazes. “I’ve met… someone.”

Her mom gasped and leaned forward, staring at her intently, “Is it serious? Tell me about him!”

“He’s uh,” she hesitated again.

How the hell was she going to describe them without giving away they were athem? She decided to just describe them one at a time while pretending they were the same man.

“He’s, um, foreign.”

At that, she almost laughed. Foreign was definitely a mild way to put it, but it wasn’t like she could say Tirox and Kix were aliens or mention the red skin, horns, and swirling golden eyes or bioluminescence, six fingers, and pearlescent, grey skin.

“He’s… kind of scary looking, actually. Looking at him, you wouldn’t guess how incredibly sweet he is,” she smiled softly, her gaze going distant as she pictured Tirox. “He’s also protective, funny, passionate… a little cocky. He isn’t threatened by how independent and headstrong I am. He likes it, a lot. I think he even likes my temper.”

At that, her mom shot her dad an affectionate look, one he immediately returned.

With a private smile curling her lips, she responded, “That is good. A man needs to appreciate a woman’s fire and strength.” Turning back to her, her mom became serious, giving her a probing look and asked, “But, do you trust him? I know you struggle with that… after what happened in high school.”

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