Kelly Meding - Requiem for the Dead

"I didn't tell them about you," Reilly said, lips barely moving. "I asked them to meet me here."

I had to get out of there, but Reilly was in my way and slithering under the table like a child wasn't in my repertoire of tricks. I could use my Gift and teleport, but there was nowhere to go. No hiding places inside the coffee shop itself, and teleporting into the street was too dangerous. I could end up half inside someone's car. And Reilly didn't seem keen on providing a useful distraction.

Shit!

"What do you want to do?" Milo asked.

"Chalice!"

My stomach flopped to the floor. I remained hunched in the booth, at a complete loss as to what to say to the distraught parents bearing down on our table. In person, Lori Frost was an older, lighter-haired copy of her daughter, right down to a dark smattering of freckles on her nose and cheekbones. Next to her, Stephen was a thundercloud of anger and disbelief, and I had the oddest little-girl urge to hide under the table from his temper.

Some small parts of Chalice had remained behind when I took full possession of her body—images and physical memories of her life. Most of it had faded in the last few months until only vague traces surfaced in my dreams. But looking at them here, standing front of me, I felt a strange warmth in my chest. A tug that I didn't understand.

Lori hovered at the edge of the table like she was contemplating her ability to climb over Reilly and hug me, which made me extremely grateful to have Reilly as a buffer. She stared at me with leaking eyes, from my face down to—

I shoved my hands into my lap, heart thudding against my ribs, hoping she hadn't noticed the fact that my left hand was missing its pinkie finger. I so did not need her flipping out over nine digits when she had plenty of other things to freak out about. Words were burbling up in Lori's throat, but nothing came out that made sense.

"Where the hell have you been?" Stephen asked.

His tone tweaked my temper, and I sat up straighter in the booth. Grief and fear were hiding behind his anger, that much was obvious, but I didn't do well with people who bullied when they were afraid. "Here," I said. "Where have you been?"

He reeled. Okay, so maybe Chalice wasn't so lippy. "We've been trying to find you for months, Chal. You haven't called, you moved out of your apartment. You didn't even tell us Alex died."

My heart hurt a little at that one. In the first few days of my resurrection, Alex had been a good friend. He'd died trying to help me. I'd been able to give Alex's father some closure on his son's death, but I didn't know how to do that for these people. The obvious and true excuse of "I've been busy" seemed lame. Very rarely in my life had I been rendered completely speechless, but this was one of those moments.

"Stephen, please," Lori said. The words were choked with tears, and the noise was attracting attention from other diners. "You promised."

Milo slid out of the booth and stood up, facing Stephen, who he actually had an inch or two on, even though Stephen was far bulkier. "Is there something I can help you folks with?" he asked in a voice older than his age, and with far less patience than usual.

Stephen gave him a hard look. "You can allow us to speak with our daughter, is what you can do."

"Can I?" Milo folded his arms over his chest. "Don't you think the fact that she hasn't contacted either of you in six months speaks for itself?"

Lori gaped at Milo like he'd just slapped her, and I kind of felt sorry for her.

"What about school?" Stephen asked. "The apartment? Her job? How does a person just disappear off the grid like that?" He stopped glaring at Milo to look at me. "Are you in some kind of trouble, Chal?"

It was all I could do to not laugh. These days I was always in some kind of trouble, but it wasn't the kind he'd believe without a lot of therapy. And for fuck's sake, why couldn't I defend myself to these people? Had Chalice always felt so defenseless around them? So much like a child that all she could do was hang her head and nod along with whatever her father said?

"I'm beginning to see that this was a mistake," Reilly said.

"Of course it wasn't," Lori said. "She's our child. We've been worried sick."

"I didn't mean to worry you," I said, pulling the words out of nowhere. "But I've had a lot going on, and I just couldn't call."

"Oh, baby." Lori reached out a hand, but was too far away to touch me. "You always used to say you felt invisible to the world, and I'm so sorry I didn't see you better. Please don't push us away again. We love you so much."

My eyes burned. I wanted to say it back, to give them that much. A little sliver of the daughter they'd lost. I simply couldn't get the words out of my throat. It was a lie, and I didn't want to lie to them.

Milo's cell rang. He yanked it out of his pocket. "Yeah?" Listened a few seconds while the rest of us exchanged serious stares. "We're on our way." He hung up and turned to me. "We have to go."

He didn't look surprised or upset—only determined to get us both out of there, and I sent him a mental "thank you" for it. Reilly slid out of the booth without prompting, and I followed him out, careful to shield my left hand from the eyes of not-my-parents.

"Where are you going?" Stephen asked.

"Work," I replied. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this right now."

"Chalice—"

"I'm alive. I'm doing okay. A lot better, in fact, than the last time we talked. Please trust me about this."

"Have dinner with us tonight." It wasn't a question so much as a command.

"I can't."

"We're not leaving town until you sit down and talk to us."

"In that case, find a comfy hotel."

Lori's face scrunched up like she was about to burst into hysterical sobs. I angled around her and past her husband, and Milo came up behind me. We walked to the door like that, him a physical barrier between me and the Frosts. Reilly stayed quiet and stayed behind—good thing, too. I was angry enough at him to break his nose and not think twice.

Halfway back to the car, Milo moved up to keep in step next to me. I took a few deep breaths before I asked, "So what was the phone call about?"

"Nothing. When I saw who was at the door, I texted Gina to call me in exactly three minutes. Figured you'd want a retreat plan."

"Thank you."

"No problem. You okay?"

"Pissed as hell at Reilly for ambushing me like that."

"That stands to reason. I mean about seeing the Frosts."

"It was weird. I'm not their kid, not really, but feeling them bearing down on me like that made me feel like their child, you know?"

"You looked like you were going to cry at one point."

"Yeah, well, the last time my own mother told me she loved me I think I was five years old."

He made a soft grunting sound. "She did say it, though."

"I guess." I slipped my left arm through his as we walked. "So, you up for visiting a communications company on the other side of town?"

"Can't think of a better way to spend a Monday morning."

"Glad to hear it."

We had a long drive to the other side of town, which gave us plenty of time to call Kismet and explain the meeting at Sally's. She had a few choice curse words of her own for Reilly's ambush. Then she gave us directions to Alucard Communications, which had us going Uptown in morning rush hour traffic, so what should have been a fifteen-minute trek across town took nearly an hour.

I tried to not bring up Milo's earlier confession about Marcus. He didn't seem eager to talk about it, and my bringing up something personal made my own current Frost family drama fair game to his questions. But the longer we sat in traffic, not talking, barely listening to a pop hits radio station, the more my curiosity got the better of me. I needed to know something, but I also had to phrase it in a way that didn't make it sound like I thought that, a) Marcus was some sort of forceful asshole, or b) Milo couldn't defend himself.