into a leather band while Fiona helped Fox put together a tray of food.
“Hey, Gran,” Raven greeted, dropping into a seat across from her grandmother.
“ Camai , birdie. A few exciting days you’ve had.” Coho frowned over her bifocals. “I had to hear these things from others, you understand.”
“I’m sorry, Gran, but I have been busy taking care of that man.”
“And how is Aidan doing? I have missed him over the years. Such an interesting boy. So unlike his black-hearted father and weak-minded mother.” She sighed and threaded beads onto her needle. “It’s nice to know he didn’t follow in his parents’ footsteps.”
“What do you mean?” Raven asked. How would Coho know what Aidan had done with his life? She didn’t even know.
“I thought you knew? Fox has known for years.”
“Grandma Great,” Fox rushed over. “You weren’t—”
“Oh, that’s right.” She laughed. “I wasn’t supposed to tell. Oops.” She smiled, acting forgetful, but Raven knew she was anything but. Coho’s mind was as sharp as the needle she pierced through the leather band.
“What weren’t you supposed to tell?” Raven looked to her grandmother and then to her son, who glanced at his feet. “What’s going on?”
“Better come clean, grandson,” Coho said out of the corner of her month as she continued to sew beads into the leather strip.
Fox fidgeted but glanced at Raven when he spoke. “I know who Aidan Harte is.”
Raven’s breath caught. Her son knew Aidan was his father? How? Nobody knew. She’d never told a living soul.
Fox went over to his backpack and pulled out a book, laying it on the table in front of her. “Mr. Harte is a famous graphic novelist. See, he writes a series of novels that feature the powers of the totem.”
“ This is what you didn’t want me to know?” Raven frowned. So Fox didn’t know Aidan was his father? The light in the room seemed to dim as Raven’s heart tried to regain its normal rhythm.
“Uh, you probably wouldn’t consider them appropriate reading material.” Fox hesitated to begin. “But they so are,” he rushed on. “He writes about the battle between good and evil and good always wins, though sometimes it looks like there is no way they can, but he always makes it happen.”
“Where did you get these?” She caught the look shared between Fiona and Fox.
“I ordered them off the Internet,” he mumbled.
“With whose help?” Raven shot a look at her mother.
“With mine,” Fiona answered, raising her chin. “I didn’t see the harm in it, and besides, I’ve read them and they are quite good. It’s nice to know that Aidan has made such a success of himself.”
Raven picked up the glossy book and thumbed through it, a little smaller than the size of a magazine but bound like a novel. The pages were full of vibrant colors, the words captured in bubbles. Kind of like the old-time comic books, but in a much more elegant, sophisticated style. She immediately recognized the level of talent it would have taken to draw the characters and settings. She glanced at the front where Aidan’s name was prominently featured in bold letters. “Can I read this?”
Fox looked worried. Appropriate content? Right.
“Sure, but keep an open mind, Mom. See the whole story, not just a few of the scenes. Okay?”
Raven raised a brow but nodded.
“Who is taking a lunch tray to Aidan?” Fiona asked. “Fox or you?”
She raised her hand. “I will.” She didn’t want her son getting more attached to Aidan than he already was.
“But, Mom,” Fox objected. “I wanted to.”
“Is your homework done?” She nailed him with a look. “Chores?”
“No, and no,” he muttered.
“Get them done then. Besides, Mr. Harte needs a lot of rest so that he can recover quickly.” And get the hell out of their lives before he really messed them up more than he already had.
C HAPTER S IX
Raven walked into Aidan’s bedroom, balancing the tray on one hand.
“Hey, Gran,” Raven greeted, dropping into a seat across from her grandmother.
“ Camai , birdie. A few exciting days you’ve had.” Coho frowned over her bifocals. “I had to hear these things from others, you understand.”
“I’m sorry, Gran, but I have been busy taking care of that man.”
“And how is Aidan doing? I have missed him over the years. Such an interesting boy. So unlike his black-hearted father and weak-minded mother.” She sighed and threaded beads onto her needle. “It’s nice to know he didn’t follow in his parents’ footsteps.”
“What do you mean?” Raven asked. How would Coho know what Aidan had done with his life? She didn’t even know.
“I thought you knew? Fox has known for years.”
“Grandma Great,” Fox rushed over. “You weren’t—”
“Oh, that’s right.” She laughed. “I wasn’t supposed to tell. Oops.” She smiled, acting forgetful, but Raven knew she was anything but. Coho’s mind was as sharp as the needle she pierced through the leather band.
“What weren’t you supposed to tell?” Raven looked to her grandmother and then to her son, who glanced at his feet. “What’s going on?”
“Better come clean, grandson,” Coho said out of the corner of her month as she continued to sew beads into the leather strip.
Fox fidgeted but glanced at Raven when he spoke. “I know who Aidan Harte is.”
Raven’s breath caught. Her son knew Aidan was his father? How? Nobody knew. She’d never told a living soul.
Fox went over to his backpack and pulled out a book, laying it on the table in front of her. “Mr. Harte is a famous graphic novelist. See, he writes a series of novels that feature the powers of the totem.”
“ This is what you didn’t want me to know?” Raven frowned. So Fox didn’t know Aidan was his father? The light in the room seemed to dim as Raven’s heart tried to regain its normal rhythm.
“Uh, you probably wouldn’t consider them appropriate reading material.” Fox hesitated to begin. “But they so are,” he rushed on. “He writes about the battle between good and evil and good always wins, though sometimes it looks like there is no way they can, but he always makes it happen.”
“Where did you get these?” She caught the look shared between Fiona and Fox.
“I ordered them off the Internet,” he mumbled.
“With whose help?” Raven shot a look at her mother.
“With mine,” Fiona answered, raising her chin. “I didn’t see the harm in it, and besides, I’ve read them and they are quite good. It’s nice to know that Aidan has made such a success of himself.”
Raven picked up the glossy book and thumbed through it, a little smaller than the size of a magazine but bound like a novel. The pages were full of vibrant colors, the words captured in bubbles. Kind of like the old-time comic books, but in a much more elegant, sophisticated style. She immediately recognized the level of talent it would have taken to draw the characters and settings. She glanced at the front where Aidan’s name was prominently featured in bold letters. “Can I read this?”
Fox looked worried. Appropriate content? Right.
“Sure, but keep an open mind, Mom. See the whole story, not just a few of the scenes. Okay?”
Raven raised a brow but nodded.
“Who is taking a lunch tray to Aidan?” Fiona asked. “Fox or you?”
She raised her hand. “I will.” She didn’t want her son getting more attached to Aidan than he already was.
“But, Mom,” Fox objected. “I wanted to.”
“Is your homework done?” She nailed him with a look. “Chores?”
“No, and no,” he muttered.
“Get them done then. Besides, Mr. Harte needs a lot of rest so that he can recover quickly.” And get the hell out of their lives before he really messed them up more than he already had.
C HAPTER S IX
Raven walked into Aidan’s bedroom, balancing the tray on one hand.
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