Page 42 of How a Vampire Falls

But the conversation continued, and she shoved the strange tugging doubt away. Of course everything was fine. Ryker wasn’t the type to imply. If he thought something wasn’t right between them, he would tell her straight out. She shook off the worry and refocused on the conversation, the relaxed rapport between her parents and Ryker. Dad was asking Ryker’s opinion of Harmony Ridge.

“You know, it’s funny. I don’t look forward only to seeing Leslie anymore. Now it’s Harmony Ridge too. The vibe is special.”

“We think so.” Mom smiled.

“And I’m keeping track of all my ‘firsts.’ First visit to Tennessee, first climb up a mountain—”

“Foothill.” Leslie reached out to poke his shoulder.

“Foothill, of course. First time ordering a breakfast sampler. First time meeting a wolf in person.”

She hadn’t warned him.

The giveaways were so quick, only a vampire would spot them. Dad blinked once, and his eyes darkened to charcoal. He blinked again, and they were pale as ever, barely blue. Mom’s eyes didn’t change, but a nearly inaudible hiss passed through her teeth—again, only for a moment before she pressed her lips shut.

In the next moment, or maybe it was still the same one, Mom’s smile was perfectly fine. “You’ve met the wolf artists at the fair, I take it. Nathan Corrigan and Ezra Sterling.”

“Them and a few others,” Ryker said.

Oh no. Leslie tried to glare at him both discreetly and sharply, but even as he noticed, Dad was asking, “Who else?”

The question was casual. Dad was fine now too, of course. But if Ryker gave a full answer, this evening might get worse than awkward.

“Ezra and Nathan are the only ones I’ve spoken much to,” Ryker said. “The others were more of a passing hi.”

Oh, he was good. No lies detected; no details either. Leslie wanted the release of a full, human-like sigh, but she buried it deep inside her along with every other bumpy conversation she’d had with her parents since she was a kid—almost all of them related to wolves or vampires.

The conversation moved on easily, thanks to Ryker’s aplomb and her parents’ skill at avoiding conflict. She had suspected both of them would be fascinated by his occupation, and she was right. He told them about his roots, his family, his early interest in the job he now loved. Then they insisted on singing Leslie’spraises, though she tried to redirect the conversation three times. Soon Ryker asked about her early penchant for building dioramas, and Dad piped right in with more stories that made her sound too impressive.

“Even at five years old,” Dad said, “when we’d go shopping and stop in the toy department, Leslie was most interested in the crafts aisle. First it was modeling clay. Then she discovered papier-mâché.”

“Okay, enough, Dad. Ryker doesn’t…”

But Leslie couldn’t honestly finish her sentence. Ryker’s bright blue eyes shone with interest in her. Well, she’d feel the same, if the childhood stories were coming from his parents instead of hers.

“Never mind,” she said with a smile that felt as if it came from the center of her heart. “Clearly he does want to hear this.”

“Of course,” Ryker said. “It’s you.”

Two hours later, her parents said good night.

“Thanks for tonight, Les,” Mom said softly on her way out the door.

Leslie could have hugged her, but neither of her parents were major huggers. “I’m glad you came over, Mom. It was good to have y’all.”

Mom smiled, and then her eyes glittered amethyst with mischief as she stage-whispered, “Also, Ryker is wonderful.”

Dad gave her a thumbs-up, and Leslie gave a mock sigh belied by her grin. Then they were gone. Leslie shut the door, and she and Ryker went to her living room and settled on the couch with blankets. She nestled up against his side and indulged her sigh at last.

When the sound and scent of her parent’s car had faded from sensory range, Ryker said, “I think that went well, but correct me if I’m wrong.”

“No, it was fine. Better than fine. They like you.”

He gave a low hum and encircled her with one arm. Leslie rested against him. She was sort of spent. She must have been even more anxious than she realized. Ryker said, “I assumed, given they raised you and you’re friendly with wolves… But they’re not?”

“So…you’ve hit on the big mystery of my childhood.”

“I thought estrangement from your Mom’s people was the big mystery.”

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