The Trouble with Evie

Chapter 27

At eighteen years of age, I'd had a lot of time to think about my life. What it would have been like if my mother cared enough to look after me and not hurt me? If she would have been different if our circumstances had changed.

The biggest question I had in my life was, what was my father like?

I never thought that I'd get the opportunity to answer that question. My mother never talked about my father, so I was left to assume that he was one of her clients.

When it came time to make Father's Day cards in school, I sat quietly and hoped that no one would look at me. I wanted to avoid their attention, to go unnoticed. They'd ask where he was and because I was embarrassed about what my mother did for a living, I said that he was dead.

I shouldn't have been embarrassed, and for a long time, I wasn't. It happened when I was almost eight. Somehow one of the older boys at the school found out what she did. Maybe he saw her, perhaps someone told him. I don't know how he found out, but he did.

The teasing was merciless, and the name-calling was horrible. They predicted that I would follow her path, and soon enough, I'd be trading favors for a little bit of cash.

At almost eight, I learned that I had an anger problem. After punching the boy in the stomach, he bent over, which made him low enough for me to give him a bloody nose. Once that happened, we had a ring of kids around us chanting fight repeatedly until a teacher intervened.

Then, they called my mother.

She was not happy when she appeared at the school office an hour later. I was given a scowl which I knew meant that I would get yelled at later. Waiting in the reception area was like waiting for the executioner.

It was a haunting memory of my mother and the headmaster when they emerged ten minutes later. His zipper was undone, and the tip of his shirt was poking through it. I knew exactly what had happened because the headmaster was always well-dressed. There was never a button undone or scuff on his polished shoes.

Aside from the fact that I knew how well he dressed, I'd already been given a good talking to in his office before he called my mother. He walked into the room dressed as he always was. I didn't make a habit of looking at crotches. After all, I was only eight. It was the look after their discussion that stood out like a neon light. To see him with a slight imperfection was, well, it was obvious. She'd bought him off with a freebie.

Having her as a mother made for an interesting childhood. As for the other parent, he was a mystery up until today.

After seeing the Nephilim in the kitchen, I was already a bundle of nerves. To make things worse, Niko's body was missing. I'd rushed in here to tell Brad, now faced with my father.

But Niko's missing body, the Nephilim that would not go away, and the vampires that want me dead, they're nothing now. Not when faced with the one person I never thought would appear in my home completely out of the blue.

"Well, isn't that interesting." the Nephilim whispered. "I guess it won't be long before we learn of your fate."

"Does it mean you'll be leaving?" I muttered under my breath.

The boy didn't respond, remaining quiet as Brad walked over to me.

"I know this is probably a really big shock for you, but how about you come over and say hello, at least? Mardyl understands that you will be apprehensive."

That's not the word I'd use.

Brad turned and walked back to the living room. I glanced at the Nephilim boy, who had a haughty smile on his face.