Bear With Me by Jennifer Blackstream

Author:Jennifer Blackstream [Blackstream, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skeleton Key Publishing

13

Leta sat in her family’s kitchen, nestled in a chair that was as familiar to her as her own body. She knew which leg was uneven, knew exactly how to balance her weight to keep it from creaking. Even trapped in darkness, she could see the entire room, knew where every piece of furniture was, every knickknack. It should have been comforting. She should have felt calmer, more at home—literally.

She didn’t.

“I would know if he were evil!” her father shouted.

Leta curled her fingers so tightly around her teacup that it was a miracle the ceramic didn’t shatter. “Father, keep your voice down.”

“He’s outside gathering more firewood. He’s not going to hear me.” Her father snatched up the bottle of wine from the center of the table and refilled his glass for the third time, perfuming the air with the rich scent of Merlot. “He’s not evil,” he repeated.

“You act like I want him to be evil. I don’t.” Leta lifted her teacup, but put it back down without drinking it. She wasn’t thirsty. And despite the late hour, she wasn’t tired either. Which was good, because she wasn’t certain how her father was going to take her request for Torben to sleep in the spare room instead of her bed.

“Father, I’m not saying Torben is evil. But something isn’t right. Something inside him isn’t right.” She drummed her fingernails on the side of her cup. “What am I supposed to think when he’s obviously lying to me, and I feel that…that…whatever it is inside him?”

“He’s from the otherworld, Leta, you knew that.” His glass clinked softly against the worn wooden table, and a moment later, his soft, aged hand covered hers. “You knew he was different. You’ve been around beings from the otherworld before. With your aunt. You were never afraid before—”

He cut himself off. The silence that followed was one Leta recognized well, and she pressed her lips together in frustration.

“This has nothing to do with what happened to Mother. This is not some change in my view of the world, a side effect of trauma. This is…it’s…” She closed her hand into a fist and pulled away from her father’s attempt at comfort. “I could see the magic inside him. I feel it when he changes, and in the house he took me to. It is wrong.”

“Leta, will you listen to yourself? Less than two days ago to even mention your mother would have had you white as a sheet and swaying on legs of rubber. Now you say it and I hear nothing but irritation in your voice.” He tried to cover her hand again. “He’s helping you. We should all be grateful.”

“Why is he helping me?” she demanded, jerking her hand away. “Why did he want to marry me? Where did he come from? Why—”

“Questions, all these questions! It is unheard of to question a gift from the gods in this way.” The wine glass slid against the table and clinked as it once again met the mouth of the Merlot bottle.

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