Page 9 of Dybbuk's Detritus

“The Fates know we’re done taking care of him, it’s somebody else’s turn.” Dad jokes, winking at me.

Theo lays a heavy arm over my shoulder, bringing me into his side. I happily slide my chair closer to him and rest my head on his chest. “I’m overjoyed to pick up the mantle. I never gave mating much thought, to be honest, and now I’m happy I didn’t. I couldn’t have dreamed anyone better than Rurik.”

“I’m not a piece of furniture.” I smack his belly.

“A mantel is more trim than furniture.” Dad corrects me, I try to kick him under the table, but my legs aren’t long enough. “Not the point, Rurik. Let the adults speak.” My growl goes unacknowledged. “Where are you from?”

“Theodore Adler of Alaska, sir. I’m a bald eagle and come from a convocation of hunters. Others typically hunt food; we hunt mystical evil doers.”

“Noble profession. I heard rumblings earlier about a dybbuk. It’s been so long since…” Dad trails off, his expression saddening.

“It’s been quite a while, yes.” Theo says. “My grandfather faced this particular dybbuk decades ago and was unable to complete the cast to bind it. We believe it was injured in the fight and fled somewhere remote to recuperate. It’s been on a hell of murder spree, making up for lost time, I guess.” I cover my mate’s hand with mine where he’s clenching his fork idly. He meets my eyes briefly, some of the anger in his eyes diminishing. “I’ve tracked it over continents and oceans, and I believe it is heading here next. The energy of the Etz Chaim will be hard for it to ignore, as well as such a large Paranormal community.”

“Your grandfather…” mom says, snapping her fingers as she thinks, “is his name Hans?” Theo jerks in his seat, dislodging me from his side.

“Yes, do you know him?” Theo leans into the table, eager for information.

“Gavril and I met him years ago. We traveled to Alaska…Rurik do we remember when we went on that cruise?” I nod, remembering them leaving for a two-week cruise in which I was left in Tilly’s militaristic care. “We stopped in Ketchikan and ate at this seafood restaurant right on the water. Met the loveliest man--”

“Oh.” My dad closes his eyes and grips the table, licking his lips. “Dungeness crab.” Fates, was that a moan? Is this my dad’s “o” face?

“Stop it. Stop it right now, dad.” I bark out, throwing my fork at him and hitting him square in the chin.

“Rurik!” Mom gasps. “Why would you do that?”

“He was groaning and licking and like when he…he…ugh.” I gag unable to complete my sentence.

She waves me off, “That’s a foodgasm. When he finishes it’s more like a guttural...ungharrhoohha.” Theo makes the noise of a choked whimper as Tilly stomps over to the table. She stabs the casserole with the serving spoon and hastily plops a healthy spoonful on Theo’s plate.

“Enjoy your dinner you filthy deviants!” She storms out of the kitchen as we sit in stunned silence. Theo snaps out of it first, snatching his phone out of his pocket.

“That reminds me, I need to order something from Amazon. What’s the best address for delivery?”

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