Part 16 (1/2)

I called on Lilith's strength and gave Tereza a twisting shove. She flew up into the air and then fell on to the floor with a wet, hard thump. She groaned but lay still.

Sebastian was at my side in that preternatural way he had. His hand pressed my shoulder where the blade cut me. ”Are you all right?” he asked. He spared a glance at Tereza but stayed at my side.

My father stood in the door and shook his head. My mother tut-tutted. I heard her mutter something about not having raised me to catfight.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tereza pull herself up and grab the scythe from where it had fallen. Our gaze met for a second before I yelled, ”Watch out!” I cringed, expecting to die. My peripheral vision caught a sense of movement, but my eyes stayed glued to Tereza. I thought I saw my father pick something up, but I couldn't be sure, as my eyes watched the blade descending toward my head. I started muttering a spell, but I didn't think I'd be able to complete it in time.

I looked up to see Tereza's head whammed to the side, as a two-foot-tall, metal milk can caromed off her head. Her eyes rolled up, and she crumpled to the floor.

I looked around to try to figure out what happened. My dad gave me the thumbs-up. He wiped his hands on his jeans, and I surmised he'd been the one to toss the can.

My mom looked a little green around the gills yet a bit proud of my dad's prowess. ”Is she dead?”

”Technically, she's been dead a long time,” Sebastian said drily. To me, he added, inspecting the puffy explosion of down feathers at my shoulder, ”Your coat took the brunt of the attack. But there is a little blood somewhere.” Lower, in my ear, he whispered huskily, ”I can smell it.”

Great. My vampire boyfriend was getting all blood h.o.r.n.y in front of the parents.

I gave him the ”down, boy” squinty glare, and jerked my head in the direction of my folks.

My dad was standing over Tereza and peering down into her face. ”I think I dented her head.”

”Not likely,” Sebastian said. ”She's really, really, really hard to keep down.”

”So I've noticed,” Dad said, tentatively poking Tereza's coat with his toe. ”She could need medical attention. Or a cemetery.”

”I've tried both.” Sebastian sighed.

My dad chuckled. My mother sidled closer to us. She s.h.i.+ned her penlight into my face. ”You put on quite the show,” she said.

”Was that . . . ?” She paused momentarily and whispered, ”Magic? I mean, should I be reconsidering Lutheran-ism?”

”It's not typical,” I admitted. ”I had a kind of magical accident.”

”Happy accident,” Sebastian said. When I gave him a look, he explained. ”Given the sorts of things we attract, you'd be dead six times over by now.”

”Speaking of dead,” my dad said, ”what should we do with her?”

My mother s.h.i.+ned her penlight around the dusty edges of the barn. A couple of mice scurried away into darker corners. ”Does this place have a storm shelter?”

”Of course,” Sebastian said, pointed to a spot on the floor none of the rest of us could see in the gloom. ”Right over there.”

”What this barn needs is electricity,” Dad said. He put his hands on his hips and looked around in that way men had when they were thinking about fixing something. ”Run a line in from the house.”

”It's not worth it,” Sebastian said. ”I really only use this place as a potting shed.”

”You could put in grow lights,” I said.

”You've got a lot of s.p.a.ce here,” my mother agreed.

Tereza groaned.

Sebastian stood up and walked into the darkness, stepping over Tereza. I could barely see him in the gloom, but he kicked around the dusty floor.

”What'cha looking for, son?” my dad asked.

”The root cellar,” he said. Kneeling down, Sebastian grasped at something. I stood up to get a closer look. My mom s.h.i.+ned her tiny flashlight in Sebastian's direction.

”The ground is going to be frozen,” my dad said. ”You're going to need a lever. . . .”

Dirt and frozen bits of straw flew everywhere as Sebastian yanked the door open.

”Or you could just do that,” my dad said, sounding a little surprised at Sebastian's dramatic show of strength.

”Help me drag her over,” Sebastian said to my dad.

”You must work out at the gym a lot,” Dad said, adjusting his seed cap. ”He has the strength of ten men,” I said drily. ”I told you already, he's a vampire.”

”Yeah,” my dad said gruffly, like he still wasn 't sure he believed any of this yet. ”Huh. Does that make you dead, too?” He asked Sebastian. ”I don't know if my daughter should be marrying a dead guy. h.e.l.l, I 'm not sure it's legal to marry someone who's already dead.”

”You had to bring up the vampire thing again, ” Sebastian said as he grabbed Tereza's arms. My dad took hold of her feet.

Mom and I followed along like some grim procession. I picked up one of the fallen shovels in case we had to whack her on the head again. My mom gave me a concerned glance that seemed to imply I was being a bit bloodthirsty. She wasn't the one whose favorite parka had just been ravaged by a scythe, however.

”Don't vampires shrivel in sunlight?” my dad asked Sebastian.

”Some do. I don't,” Sebastian shot me an angry look.

I shrugged an apology. Somehow he managed to bring up occult matters, and my parents rolled with it. The second I did, my dad got all up in arms. How was I supposed to predict that?

”Your magic is pretty impressive,” my mom said to me.

”Oh, well, that's mostly Lilith,” I said, feeling a little embarra.s.sed. I didn't know why, but talking about magic with my mom felt a little like talking about s.e.x.

”Don't be so modest,” Sebastian admonished, as he and my dad negotiated down the creaky wooden stairs. My dad, of course, couldn't see nearly as well. My mom tried to give them as much light as she could, but the flashlight was weak. ”Garnet is a very powerful witch in her own right.”

”You are? Why don't we know anything about this?” My mom had that same vaguely hurt tone in her voice as when she talked about the dress. Oh G.o.d.

”How about garlic? Do you like garlic?” my dad said.

”Watch the last step,” Sebastian said. ”It felt a little loose to me.”

”Dad, we met at an Italian restaurant. You know he can stand garlic,” I said.

”That's good,” Dad said with a grunt as they reached the bottom of the cellar. ”I couldn't deal with a son-in-law who didn't eat garlic. Where the h.e.l.l does that whole garlic thing come from anyway? It never made any sense to me.”

”It's a natural blood thinner,” Sebastian said. ”Besides, in some countries it's considered a cure-all.”

Mom and I peered down into the root cellar. Even from where we stood I could smell the dankness. Mom's flashlight revealed rows of shelves containing dusty, ancient canned beans and pickles. Something that looked like an old slide projector sat in a corner. ”Look at this place,” I said. ”You should be using this.”

”We are running out of room for my canning in the bas.e.m.e.nt,” Sebastian said, glancing around.