Page 41 of Shadow Running
“Not a problem,” I said.“I’ll have the steak sandwich with fries, and a cup of New England clam chowder to start.”I handed him the menu.
“And for me, I’ll have the Reuben with onion rings.”
The waiter wrote down our orders and left.
“So, here we are,” I said.“To be honest, I’d gotten used to not knowing my background, but the truth is, I’ve always wondered.”
“And you have no idea who your father is?”Konstantine asked.
I shook my head.“I know now that my mother changed her last name to protect you and your mother.She was like that.”I stirred my latte.“I think it’s fitting, though, that my last name is my grandfather’s first name.”
“What was she like?”Konstantine asked.“I remember my sister from when I was a boy.But…what was she like when she was grown?”He sounded so plaintive that it almost hurt my heart.He had loved his sister—that much was apparent.
I paused, thinking back.“We never had much, but she worked to make life as bearable as possible.She was working three jobs when she died.And I worked under the table.We needed the money, and she was trying to save what she could for me to go to college.I remember, though, when I was little, she would take me to the waterfront during the little time she had off, and we’d walk along the pier and watch the boats.”
“You said she died when you were fourteen?What did you do after that?”
I paused, wondering how to tell him.He’d already shown himself to be sympathetic, and my story hadn’t been easy.“I sold everything I could sell and hit the streets.I slept on benches, in alleys, I occasionally managed to find a spot for a few bucks.I remember days when it was pouring, so I’d hide out in a tent in one of the homeless encampments.I mugged people, played pickpocket, whatever it took to stay alive.”
Konstantine stared at the table.“I wish I’d have known about you—you wouldn’t have gone hungry or homeless.My mother would have taken you in.”
“Well, I wish I could have met you back then.But Dante swept in and saved me—literally.He helped me out when…” I paused.
“When?Tell me.”
I sighed.“A man in a park tried to rape me.My inner demon came out, for the first time that I remember.I killed him.Dante was there in wolf form and he hustled me away from the man—he’d seen the whole thing—and he protected me.He let me live with him, put me back into school, and supported me as I grew up.”
Konstantine held my gaze.“Did Dante ever try anything?”
“Never,” I said.Not even after I reached adulthood.He’s one of my two best friends, one of my ride-or-dies.He’s blood—by soul and heart.”I smiled, chuckling.“He’s flamboyant and a player and a rogue—exiled from his Pack.But I’ll protect him to the death.”
“Then he’s a friend of mine, too,” my uncle said.“I’m grateful he was there.”
“Me too.”He hesitated, then asked, “Did Erin ever mention her youth?Her family?”
I shook my head.“I’m sorry, but no.She made it sound like she couldn’t go home.Konstantine, my mother was one of the most protective women I know.If she had even thought there was achanceshe was going to die, she would have made arrangements for me.When she didn’t come home that night, I knew I was going to have to support myself.I was going to have to manage on my own.I grew up fast.”
“Yeah, you did,” he said.He paused as our waiter brought my soup and his salad.“Thank you,” he said.As the man left, he continued.“Very little of our family remains, but I brought you something.”He reached into a pack by his side and pulled out a box, sliding it across the table.“I thought you might like these.You can keep them—I have duplicates or similar ones.”
I removed the lid.Inside were several dozen photographs.I picked one up—it was of a young girl about eleven.My mother.She was wide-eyed, with a bright smile on her face.She was sitting in what looked like the front yard of Konstantine’s house, with a toddler on her lap.
“Is that you?”I asked.
He nodded, laughing.“Yes.I was three, Erin was ten.There’s a real resemblance between you and her—the eyes, the cheekbone structure.You look a lot more exotic than I imagine she would now, but the family resemblance is there.”
I held the photo in my hands, and once again, my mother’s death hit me.Every now and then, the memories would surface…the pain, the loss, the fear.But this time, as I stared at her picture, the most telling feeling was sadness and the sense that I never really knew her.Not as she had been.I knew her after she changed her entire life and took on a new identity—and she had taken on that identity to protect her loved ones.
“I wish…”
“What?”my uncle asked.
After a moment, I just shook my head.“Nothing.Let’s eat,” I added, trying to pull myself out of the maelstrom of emotions threatening to suck me under.“I have a question for you, by the way.”
“What is it?”He cut open a roll and spread it with butter.
I steeled myself for a potential rejection.“I see a therapist.He’s an expert in Demonkin.I told him about meeting you and he suggested that you come to a session with me, so he can help facilitate us learning how to interact.I’ve never had blood kin before, not since my mother.And you now have a half-demon for a niece.”
Konstantine thought for a moment as he ate his roll.“Do you trust him?”
