Page 2 of Memories Like Fangs
If my hands weren’t so wet and soapy, I would run them through my hair as I always did when I was nervous.
I should have fucking done something…
“Well, I’d be nervous to meet this family, too,” Nat interrupted, joining our conversation unsolicited.
My eyes cut to her. They must have been blazing bright enough to sear because she flinched under my gaze.
“You know how Cooper is. You know how your mother is. Why would you antagonize the situation?” I asked Natassa.
“Well, it’s because she’s a drunkard, obviously— Ouch!” Cody started before Cole elbowed him in the ribs to shut up.
“You can’t be serious! This doesn’t even matter like that. I don’t understand why I’m getting yelled at when Cooper is the one who started it. He’s the one who’sbeenthe issue this whole time,” Nat argued. Her intoxication only fueled her wrath and made her more animated.
I shook my head. “Hehasbeen an issue, but he’smyproblem. Now, I don’t want you to become my problem, too, Stass. That’s the last thing I need, and I couldn’t bear it either.”
My voice cracked with emotion toward the end, just thinking of having to reprimand Nat like I have to do with Cooper soon. Natassa had always been like my little sister and best friend. Even though we were outnumbered growing up, it was always us against the boys, and it oddly felt evenly matched. Together, we could do anything. She was my little ride-or-die.
Nat’s face softened, even if it remained red from her drinking. “Oh, Quinny. You’re right. I know he’s been really bothering you.”
“Wait, why am I just now hearing about this? What’s going on?” Mama turned to me, the source of my hazel eyes locking onto my matching set. Every time I looked at Mama, I was hit with how she was an older version of me with our sharply arched dark brown eyebrows, slightly downturned eyes, wide nose, and matching moles in the same spots. She was in her fifties with long, straight, dark auburn-brown hair that she always styled in elaborate braids and clips out of her face. Her face and nails were always professionally done, and her casual clothes were still worth a pretty penny. Yet, as much as Mama enjoyed luxury, she was still very down-to-earth and present.She cooked as much as she could and enjoyed the little things like grocery shopping and camping.
Next to her, Aunt Tess sipped her wine. Aunt Tess was the eldest of the Trinity, and she was the quietest, softest, and warmest. She was the one who bought my diapers, my car seat, and my stroller when I was a baby. Growing up, she was the most kind and gentle soul, I wondered how on Earth she could have ever hunted anything other than a good deal. This woman picked spiders up and put them outside, for fuck’s sake. She was shorter and larger than Mama with long, dirty blond hair that was always braided in the back with intentionally unintentional flyaways framing her face. Her eyes darted between me and Mama with intrigue.
“It’s nothing really, Mama. It’s just some regular infighting stuff. Nothing I can’t handle,” I reassured, throwing in a smile. It seemed enough as Mama nodded. Then, I stood up, unable to stay at the table any longer. I couldn’t, not with all of the nervous energy within me. I always had anxiety at family events, but this felt… different and all-consuming. I couldn’t stop bouncing my legs, my fingers fidgeted and itched to do something I couldn’t name.“How about I go and get started on the dishes?”
I dipped the plate back under the sink water to finally rinse it off. The water was scalding hot, much warmer than my usual preference. My hands stung and were blazing red, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. It was the only thing I had any control over at the moment.
I should’ve done something, I thought again for the umpteenth time.
It seemed that all I could hear were the should-haves.
I should’ve shut down CK and Cooper the second I saw the tension flare up.
I should’ve kept Nat from poking the bears.
I should’ve protected Byrd better.
Not just from them.
From this.
From all of it.
I was the First Blade, heir to the role of Huntscommander, or leader of the family. When my father could no longer fulfill his duties, it would be my job to lead this family. I would have to deal with every argument, figure out what we hunted and what contracts we took on, plan out missions, and manage the family funds. I had to be the example, the figurehead, the symbol of this family and what we stood for. Usually, in our family, the First Blade would take the mantle of Huntscommander once they killed their first dragon, but I was an exception where I had to wait until my father was unfit to lead before I could take on the title, which I was perfectly fine with.
But that did nothing for the anxieties that lingered.
How was I supposed to be the Huntscommander if I couldn’t even handle family squabbles? I couldn’t stop their bickering. I couldn’t anticipate the fractures before they split open. This was the part of being a First Blade I fucking hated. I would rather do paperwork and admin than deal with this bullshit.
How was I supposed to be the Huntscommander if I couldn’t deal with Cooper properly? Not to mention, Aunt CK was likely to want to have a word about this later. Fuck, the holidays were about to be awkward as all shit now.
What was I supposed to do about my father? He was due soon for the holidays. How could I introduce him to Byrd and her friends? What would he say? What would he do? How would he blow up about this? My fatherhatedsupernatural creatures, which is why he took so much pleasure in hunting them and doing the work we did. When he arrived, he was going to pick apart everything about this and my life since he had last seenme. Me, the family, the dynamics, the weak spots I was already failing to hide, no stone would be left unturned.
How would Byrd take all of this? What would she think? What?—?
There was a weight pressing down on me that wasn’t just tonight. It waseverythingand then some more, building into a cacophonous cascade of noise.
I couldn’t breathe right.
