Page 18 of A Shade Too Far
“Miriam. We have to speak to her.”
I jerked my gaze up from the ground and turned off the stove. “Yeah.”
Eli sat on the sofa next to Sadie. He frowned at me when I hesitated, so I took the spot on her other side.
“Sades?” he said gently. “Can we talk about this?”
Neither of us wanted to thrust her into the harsh truth that monsters were real, but we’d agreed that not knowing was far more dangerous. It was time for her to face facts.
She lifted her head, a dazed expression on her face. “I’m not crazy. He had fangs, didn’t he?”
“Who?” I said.
“That man. The night our place was broken into. He said he was a neighbor and I invited him—” She gasped, her hand clapping over her mouth.
Eli looked shell-shocked, but a sense of calm settled on me. Sadie had seen magic of her own accord and the first thing she sought was reassurance about her mental state, not horror that her mom was a freak.
“That was Zev BatKian. He’s the head vampire here in Vancouver.” I brushed her hair off her shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong. He and I have an understanding and he isn’t going to hurt us. In fact, he’s going to ward up our house so that nothing bad can get in.”
Eli opened his mouth to protest, then looked at Sadie and kept silent, but the look on his face promised further discussion.
Sadie pushed my hand away, but half-heartedly like normal, not like she recoiled at my touch. My shoulders descended another notch. “What are you? What am I?”
Curious, not scared. Better and better.
“You’re human,” her dad said.
I glared at him.
“Your mom is human, too,” he amended, “but she has magic powers.”
“Like what?” she said.
“I’m a Banim Shovavim, which is basically a descendent of Lilith who can animate their shadow and go invisible. Neat, right? The name itself is also pretty cool,” I said, babbling on. “It means rebellious or wayward children, and…” I trailed off, seeing her eyes glaze over.
All right, then. When Sadie started sex education in elementary school, parents had been told to be concise when answering questions, instead of nervously rambling out long-winded answers. Kids were simply interested in the specific question they’d asked, and if they wanted more information, they’d follow up. It seemed like as good a guideline as any.
Sadie twirled a strand of black hair around her finger, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. “Are there a lot of vampires?” she asked after a moment. “How dangerous is it?”
“There are more humans with magic than there are vampires,” I assured her. “And way more people such as yourself without any powers. You’ll be able to always see vampires now that your natural perception filter has been breached, and that’s important because vampires can only turn people without magic. But if you’re vigilant and smart, there’s very little danger. Even less for you because of Zev.”
She unzipped the front pocket on her overnight bag and pulled out her phone. “I have to tell my friends. Nessa. Caleb.”
I closed my hand over hers. “You can’t.”
“Why not?” She pressed the phone to her chest.
“Because magic has to remain hidden. It’s not my rule and I don’t agree with it, but anyone who knows could land in trouble.”
“Dad knows.”
“I ended up working a murder case involving magic and I was given special dispensation to find out about it,” Eli said.
Our child’s chin jutted up, a familiar stubborn glint in her eyes.
“Sadie,” I said, “I’m not kidding. You can’t tell them. Promise me.”
“So I’m supposed to let everyone I care about be vamp food?”
