Page 46 of Mistletoe

Emma wrapped the sandwiches too tightly, taking her disappointment with her mother out on her breakfast. “You saw him.”

“Of course I saw him. I heard him talking with your father. I had a look. That man is not right.”

All these dramatics. Agatha made twice the normal amount of food, so she had already accepted that Hal—green and with his tusks—would stay. She intended to debate Emma on the subject, to poke at the issue like a sore tooth, until Emma relented and did as she wanted.

Emma would not play this game today.

“I’m disappointed you would judge a man based on his complexion. That man has done nothing wrong. Yes, he’s green. He’s got… he’s got a face.” Emma waved a hand at her own face in the general area of where tusks would be. “He showed up a week ago, cold and hungry.”

“A week ago? The solstice? Did he hurt you?”

Emma knew what her mother was thinking. The Nexus monsters were most unstable and their most dangerous at the solstice and the equinox. “The night after. I gave him some of Felix’s old things and a meal.”

Agatha made an unimpressed noise. “He’s the one that started the fight in the bar. He got you arrested.”

“Ma, I started the fight in the bar.”

“Oh, that’s just what Nina Navarre says. She doesn’t like you.” Agatha waved a hand as if to dismiss the notion.

“No, Ma. I started it. There are plenty of witnesses who’ll tell you the same. Hal, he jumped in to help. He had my back.”

“He jumped through a window.”

“It was the quickest route.”

Agatha’s lips quirked. She covered her mouth with her hands, hiding an amused smile. “This is serious. I’m worried. While I’ll agree that he’s not immediately dangerous, we have to consider where he came from and who will be looking for him. He could bring trouble to our door.”

Hal and trouble seemed to go hand in hand, but Emma kept that to herself.

“You and Pa are hardly strangers to trouble.”

“Appealing to the nostalgia of our rebellious youth is a dirty tactic,” Agatha said, wagging a finger. “No points.”

Emma placed the wrapped sandwiches in a pail, along with the flask of coffee and two cups. “This is not a debate, Ma. Hal needs work. I got work.”

“He’s likely an army deserter.”

“The military does not have monsters,” Emma said.

“It most certainly does.”

This was a favored conspiracy theory in town. The military captured monsters and trained them for combat. Emma never believed the stories. If the army had a battalion of beasts, there’d be posters and parades. Penny novels. Serialized stories in the papers. It would be something—anything—more substantial than gossip.

“The sheriff thinks he’s Draven’s spy or an escaped experiment,” Emma said.

Agatha nodded. “That’s plausible. Of course, he may be a recent conversion and left his home for some unfathomable reason.”

“I think the way you’re acting right now is a perfectly fathomable reason.” Emma had not considered that Hal might be new to his current form and monstrous existence. That would explain his reaction to his reflection last night. “Who wouldn’t run away if this were their family’s reaction?”

Agatha sat at the table. “You’re right. I should be more welcoming. Wherever he’s from, he’s here now. Bring him—Hal, is it?—breakfast. Lunch is the last of the rabbit stew. It’s in a pot on the stove. You know how to help yourself.”

“That’s it?” Emma asked. “No more debating? No more trying to convince me to let him go?”

“Petal, my precious, we both know there’s no changing your mind when you’re set on something.”

“Then why say those things?”

“You’ve been sewing those trousers for days now,” Agatha said, as if that explained everything.

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