Hold Me Closer, Necromancer - Lish McBride [105]
“Do you have waffles?”
His mouth twitched after I’d said it.
I felt a stab of annoyance. What was wrong with waffles? I never thought I’d have to get defensive over a breakfast food but—“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You almost died, and you want waffles.” He slapped my shoulder, which hurt. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”
He ambled toward the door. “Anything else?”
“If it’s not too much to ask, could I have fresh strawberries and whipped cream, too? No compote. I’m, uh, allergic. And two plates, please.”
If he thought the request odd, he didn’t say so. “Right,” he said, ticking the list off on his fingers. “Waffles, strawberries, whipped cream, two plates, no compote.”
“And maple syrup.”
“Got it.”
“Thanks.” I realized I didn’t actually know his name so I tacked on a lame “you.”
“You’re welcome,” he shouted from the hallway, “and it’s Sean.”
“Oh,” Ashley groaned, eyes rolling dramatically. “This is awesome.” She dug into her second helping with as much gusto as the first. Once Sean had seen Ashley eat, he’d quickly called down to the kitchens for more waffles. Then he crouched in the easy chair, chin in hands, taking in the spectacle.
“She’s like a machine,” he said, voice awed. “You sure you’re not a werewolf?”
Ashley shook her head while she scooped up a blob of whipped cream with her fork. “Why?” she asked. “Do you eat a lot of waffles?”
“We eat a lot of everything,” he said.
“Why is that?” she asked. I stabbed a strawberry with my fork.
“Higher metabolism.” His eyes stayed riveted on Ashley. “Dude, your stomach is like one of those giant sinkholes in Venezuela.”
Ashley examined her now-empty plate with a look of regret on her face.
“Don’t lick the plate,” I said.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Yes, you were.” I handed her the rest of my waffle and turned to Sean. “So you’re like Brid, a hybrid?”
“Yeah,” he said, sneaking a strawberry from Ashley’s plate. She reached out to smack his hand but stopped when I looked at her. Sean popped the strawberry into his mouth, unconcerned.
He stopped chewing when an older man entered the room. Sinewy and lean as the older man was, I’d seen a lot bigger than him lately. But appearances, I’d learned, were deceiving. He held himself with authority, and from the way Sean suddenly grew quiet, I was willing to bet the man had power coming out the wazoo.
He sat down on the edge of my bed. “My name,” he said, “is Brannoc Blackthorn. I’m Bridin’s father.” The subtext being that he was also the head of Brid’s pack, which meant, as all things werewolf went, Brannoc was the toughest badass in the city. Just telling me he was Brid’s father was enough to get my adrenaline going. I hated meeting parents.
“Sam,” I said, shaking his hand. “Thank you for the cavalry.”
He squinted, just a slight tension around the eyes, and I felt like he was sizing me up. I didn’t know what he was comparing me to. Other boys Brid had brought home? Other necromancers? I hoped I passed inspection. Brannoc was the kind of guy I wanted in my corner, not against me.
“You’re welcome, though you understand we were mostly there for my daughter.”
“Of course.” I wished he’d get on with it. I didn’t think he was going to hurt me, but he was still an imposing man, and I would feel better if he was elsewhere.
“I wanted to thank you, Sam, for helping her stay safe.”
“You’re welcome.”
He had stubble on his chin, and he looked tired. From the lines around his eyes and mouth, it looked like he spent a lot of his time smiling. He didn’t smile now. I wasn’t the only one who’d had a hard week.
“Where exactly am I?” I asked. “I need to call my family, let them know I’m okay.”
“Your mom knows where you are. We sent her and your sister home for a shower and some sleep.” His mouth twitched, and I could tell he was trying not to smile. In that moment, I could see hints of Sean in his face. I bet on a normal day, a day when he wasn’t totally bogged down with worry, Brannoc would be a lot of fun. “It took some convincing,” he said. “I don’t think your mom trusts us entirely.” He waved me off before