King Cave (33 page)

Cahal stared.

Vivian blinked.

And Ezra continued eating.

Hopefully that was enough abstract information to distract them from the fact I hadn’t mentioned a damn thing about my younger years when I was hiding in the Com community. I picked up my spoon and quickly scooped up some banana pudding, since Ezra’s spoonfuls were twice as big as mine and were making it quickly disappear. Our spoons scraped against each other’s just as he took the last bit.

“I only got one bite,” I grumbled, scowling as his spoon rose to his lips. “I was talking, Ezra.”

He stared at his spoonful, and then sighed, handing it over.

I dropped my utensil, grabbing his, and hummed in pleasure as banana exploded across my tastebuds. “Thank you.”

He shrugged and grabbed my coffee cup off my tray, since his was long gone. There was half left in mine, but I didn’t mind since I had a Coke to wash down the rest of my food. I put his spoon back on his tray and picked up my fork — as Ezra sipped at my heavily creamed and sugared coffee — slicing off some off my pancake. “I’ve never been to California,” I said cordially to his parents, not forgetting they were there this time. “Ezra’s told me his favorite parts about it, but what made you choose to live there in the beginning?” I placed my slice of pancake in my mouth, looking up to them politely.

Vivian’s mouth was slightly parted, her eyes darting back and forth between us. My chewing slowed as my eyebrows puckered in confusion, my eyes darting to Cahal. He was watching Ezra, who in turn was staring at my plate, eyeing the remaining food there. Absently, I pushed my tray to the side, farther from his reach, while pushing the full fruit bowl in the center closer to him, as my eyes moved back and forth between his parents.

Cahal cleared his throat, apparently just realizing they had been silent for too long after my question. “That’s where I chose my home base. I enjoy the weather.”

A perfectly non-descriptive answer.

Which I ignored, asking, “Mrs Zeller, is something wrong?”

Ezra’s head snapped up from the food, obviously hearing the caution in my tone.

Her finger started to lift, pointing, but Cahal’s hand quickly covered hers, lowering it back to the table, and he murmured, “She’s fine. She’s just in shock.”

She was staring at our food, which we had managed to put pretty much all away.

“You should see us when we’re really hungry.”

Ezra’s head cocked. “Is that all, Mom?”

She blinked. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Only shock.”

Lie
, then
truth
.

My gaze narrowed, following hers. She was staring at my coffee cup in Ezra’s hand. Casually, I lifted it from his grasp, ignoring his grumbling to not drink it all, and took a sip. Watching her. Her eyes widened marginally, her heart rate accelerating.

Ezra’s hand halted in trying to get it back, and his gaze slammed to her, apparently hearing the same thing. “Mom?” His head cocked, staring at me when she didn’t answer. He blinked. Blinked again, his eyes going to the cup I held, tapping my fingers against it. I had no clue what was going on. But Ezra stilled, eyes widening before hooding, his heart rate shooting off.

Glancing at all of them, I murmured into the quiet, “Do I want to know what we’ve done wrong now?”

Ezra’s chuckle was breathy and, placing an elbow on the table and leaning heavily on it, he used his hand to cover his mouth. “Probably not.”

“And still, I do.”

That odd chuckle again as he flicked a finger at the coffee cup. “I forgot.”

Truth
.

“Forgot what?”

His eyes went to his parents, hand still over his mouth. “It means nothing.”

Not so much the
truth
.

“It took you long enough to remember.” Cahal rested back in his chair, arms resting over his middle. “You did it in front of my group the day Jacobs and Merrick arrived.”

Again, Ezra chuckled. “That’s right. It makes sense now.” I was pretty sure I had never heard him make that sound before. It was more of a nervous gesture than an actual laugh.

“Um, hello?” I stated quietly, placing down the coffee cup that had created this mess. “I would love to be enlightened.”

Ezra’s gaze darted to mine, holding there. “Sharing a drink with another Mystical is a gesture that you trust one other with your lives.”

I stared. “I think I’m missing the issue here. Of course we trust each other with our lives. We’re part of our four.”
And the big deal is?

“And?” Cahal hedged, head cocking.

Ezra cleared his throat. “It’s really only a big deal if you do it in front of others during a large gathering like a meal or a party.”

Still, I stared.

Cahal coughed.

Ezra’s head tilted back and forth, and he said quietly behind his hand, eyes on mine, “And the symbolic gesture is done when two people are,” he paused, “courting one another.” My mouth gaped, and he added quickly, “One partner initiates it, pretty much telling any other suitors vying for the other partner’s attention to back off, and when the other partner drinks from the cup it means they accept the offer.” He choked. “It’s done at marriage ceremonies as an old tradition.”

I was pretty sure my eyes were as large as saucers, but I cleared my throat, picking the coffee cup back up. “All that for drinking from this?”

All three nodded.

My chuckle sounded as weird as Ezra’s had, my gaze swinging back and forth between his parents. “Well, I told you guys I didn’t like rules that ‘just are’.” I toasted them. “Bottoms up.” And I downed the remaining contents.

Ezra made a choking noise, his hand blurring he grabbed the cup so quickly from me, but I had already finished it off. There hadn’t been much left. He stared into its porcelain depths. He made a gurgling noise, tipping the thing upside down. Nothing fell.

Vivian’s hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide.

Cahal cleared his throat, staring at the cup. “What he didn’t finish telling you, Ms Ruckler, is the prophecy of the act of sharing a drink.”

Ezra sat the cup down carefully. “If the drink is consumed completely, greed instead of selflessness, the one who took the last drop will sacrifice all for their partner.”

Huh. “It sounds complicated.” I gestured to the cup. “And yet, it’s still an old tradition full of superstition. We had no clue what we were doing, and we’re only friends, not on the track for marriage.” I shrugged.

Ezra rested back, also shrugging, finally getting his act together. “No problem.” He scooted the cup with his finger. Away from him.

I snorted, giving him a moment more to compose himself. “No wonder Elder Merrick’s and Elder Jacobs’s eyes went wide.”

“Yes, they were surprised,” Cahal murmured, his eyes still on the cup, like his wife’s. “And before, out of curiosity, I checked the beer bottle and the two coffee cups that day, after you left. There were a few drops left in each one.” His gaze lifted to ours. With very quiet words, he asked point-blank, “Is there anything romantically going on between the two of you?”

Well, today he wasn’t beating around the bush, and beautifully, Ezra and I kept studious expressions on our faces, our heart rates normal. Probably because we had been accused of it so often in the past that we were now used to it. My eyebrows rose, and I pointed at the cup. “You’re asking because you believe in an ancient ritual?”

He rested back in his chair again. “Actually, no, I’m not asking because of that. Although, I do believe in it, even the prophecy, since I’ve seen it occur, the one who drank the last drop not even realizing they were completing the sacrifice.”

“Me, too,” Vivian murmured absently, her hand still over her mouth, her eyes on the cup.

“No, Dad,” Ezra whispered. “There is not, and never has been, anything romantically going on between Lily and me.”
Lie
. “We’re only friends.”
Lie
. “But, don’t feel bad, you’re not the first to think otherwise.”
Truth
.

He said it all without a fluctuating heartbeat or batting an eye.

Cahal’s blank expression didn’t change, his gaze turning to me. He raised one eyebrow. “And your answer would be?”

“The same.” I scrutinized his raised eyebrow as I spoke quietly. It had the same arched shape as Ezra’s. “He and I aren’t involved outside of friendship and business.” Score to the big ol’ liar who didn’t flinch under pressure.

His head cocked, face perfectly expressionless, as he spoke barely above a whisper. “What were you two doing together in the supply closet last night at King Nelson’s party?”

“Arguing,” Ezra stated instantly, earning his father’s gaze, which was convenient since I froze.

“For close to an hour?”

“Yes.”

“The argument was about?”

Ezra hesitated, and I said, “A personal issue.”

Cahal’s dark gaze turned steady on me. “Personal?”

“Yes.” I shrugged. “We’re friends, so we tend to have those.”

Instant. “Who was the father of your babies?”

My gaze narrowed. “That is none of your business.”

“Perhaps.” He nodded once. “But how is it the father didn’t know you were pregnant? Any Shifter male knows by scent alone.”

My lips thinned, digging myself deeper. “I was only with him once.”

He hummed, eyes to Ezra. “And you’ve tasted her blood before?”

“If you’re asking if I have bitten her in a sexual act, the answer is no, since I’ve already stated we’ve never been involved,” Ezra growled, his jaw clenched tight. “And I think that’s enough of your inappropriate questions.”

“One more,” he whispered delicately, his eyes steady on his son. “Why were you as heartbroken as Ms Ruckler when she miscarried?”

I stared at his eyebrows, scrutinizing them hard, trying to think of nothing. Of course, his dad had been scenting Ezra’s emotions during that time. He had been right there, watching over his son. He hadn’t been there for me. In retrospect, I should have made him leave.

I heard Ezra’s heart pound erratically for the barest moment, before he got himself under control, stating, “Lily’s my friend. It hurt me to see her hurting.”

Both his parents stared at him.

I cleared my throat, glancing at Ezra with a small smile. “A meal is never just a meal when I’m involved.” I placed my napkin on the table. “I think I’m going to head out so you three can enjoy yourselves.” I did feel bad for ruining their obviously good time together.

Vivian’s hand shot out. “No. Please, don’t.” She tilted her head at Cahal. “He doesn’t know when to quit sometimes.” She motioned at the buffet. “We’ll get some coffee and the four of us will talk,” she eyed her mate, “civilly.”

Ezra’s gaze was steady on mine. “It’s up to you.”

I paused.

My gaze roamed over the almond shape of his green eyes, which could be large and expressive or carefully blank and were hidden behind his thick lashes, then over his dark arched eyebrows, his sharp cheekbones, the complexion of his mocha skin, his strong jaw with its severe angles, and his full, wide red lips, which were parted slightly, his straight white teeth flashing between them. He looked so much like his father. I knew that deep within him he was much the same, so that I could truly respect one, and not the other, wasn’t fair. I inhaled deeply and nodded. “I’ll stay.” And try to not let his father rattle me, and hope my being here wouldn’t ruin his family’s comradeship.

Ezra’s lips quirked, one eyebrow rising. “That’s brave, after an Elder Zeller examination.” His eyes took their own slow perusal of each of my features. “You’re a regular glutton for punishment.”

“Or,” I held up a finger, “I just really want another cup of coffee.”

He chuckled softly. “Or there’s that.”

My lips lifted, actually happy to be staying. “And more banana pudding, since you ate it all.” To spend more time with him.

His scowl was completely fake. “You had the last bite.”

I hummed. “You can have the last one this time, since I’ve completely,” my eyes rolled grandly, “upset your delicate sensibilities.”

His grin was slow, like the sun peeking out behind a cloud to eventually cast its full glory on you. “Finally, you see the error of your ways.”

“Oh, no,” I murmured, eyes caught on the beauty he was gracing me with. “I’m not conceding anything. I’m only informing you of your gentle constitution and the kindness I’m offering.” My own grin fanned my face as slowly as his had when he choked, completely enjoying myself.

Shaking his head, he started chuckling, and gazed at my mouth. “Shall we?” He scooted his chair back. “I’ll get the coffee.”

I nodded. “And I’ll get the pudding.”

We glanced at his parents, waiting for them. They were staring at us — again — and I was pretty sure they weren’t even blinking. Cahal opened his mouth, but Vivian stood abruptly, placing her hand on his shoulder, her eyes on her mate. “I’ll get our coffee. Just sit here and enjoy the,” she cleared her throat, “silence.”

Little by little, his mouth shut, and he grunted.