Blood Ties (NaNoWriMo 2015)

Thirty-One

Damon and I returned to the party, the air between us still buzzing with an unfamiliar energy. When Johnathan approached us, grey eyes blazing. "Where have you been?" he hissed at Damon. "It's very poor showing for a host to run from their own party!"

"I didn't run out," Damon said meeting his father's steely gaze without even flinching. "I was checking on a guest, Ember," he said, tiling his head to indicate me. "Wasn't feeling so well and ran outside to get some air, I went after her to make sure she was okay. After all, isn't it a hosts duty to take care of his guests? Especially ones that don't seem to be enjoying themselves?"

Johnathan's tense shoulders relaxed. Now that I knew he was sick, I thought I could notice the subtle signs of it. His face seemed a little more gaunt than it did in portraits, like he'd lost weight. I ran over the other symptoms of liver cirrhosis in my head, weight loss, swelling abdomen, and yellowing skin. I thought there were a few more, but I couldn't think of them now. Had I been able, I'd have made plans to Google it later on, but just like a phone, it was too risky for me to have access to it. The temptation to contact my family might eventually overrule my good judgement.

"In that case you've done well," he said and he patted Damon on the shoulder and smiled at him. "I'm really proud of you son."

Damon blinked and I felt him go a little tense. Was this an uncommon occurrence? His father saying that he was proud of him? If so, the thought made my throat tight. I suddenly remembered what Ife had told me about the Lockwoods after I met them. "They're good people, rough around the edges, but good." I decided this must have been one of Johnathan's rougher parts, he was a hard man to please and even harder to impress. Given Damon's reaction, he'd rarely been able to do either.

"Thank you," he said finally and then he looked quickly at me. "Care to dance Miss Hawthorn?"

I sensed he was looking for a way to get away from his father and nodded. "Yes, thank you." Without further prodding Damon whisked me away to the dance floor, where once again a waltz was playing.

"Thanks," he whispered as his cool arm slid around my waist.

"Don't mention it," I mumbled back. "And I'm sorry if I step on your toes."

"You won't," he assured me. "I'm going to teach you how to do this properly, seeing as your last dance partner had other things on his mind." A hard note crept into his voice and suddenly wondered if I made a mistake sharing my worries about Richard Erable with him right then. Perhaps it would have been better to wait until after the Cruor Luna. If a fight broke out when Damon was hosting, that would certainly be considered a terrible omen by Zalam's faithful. Oh well, it was too late now.

"Forward," Damon instructed and I moved my feet accordingly. "Side, close." I complied and he tsked at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You need to let me lead," he said. "Try again, forward, side, close." He led me in the same direction he moved and then nodded in approval as I didn't resist. "Very good," he approved. "You're a natural." Then irony came into play and he winced half a second later as I took a wrong step and trod on his foot.

"Sorry!" I exclaimed and Damon only laughed.

"It's alright," he gasped. "You're just learning."

I laughed, despite how weary and embarrassed I was. "Thanks for being so patient."

"No problem." Neither of us said anything for awhile and soon I fell into the rhythm of the song as well as Damon's movements. "See?" he said when he saw that I'd gotten the hang of it, well sort of. I had a few wrong steps here and there and stepped on his feet a handful of times. "You're doing fine."