Saturday, October 29, 2005

Overprotective Fathers

I finally checked my voice mail today, and found about two dozen messages from my dad. Oops! Guess he's been a little worried. There's a reason I haven't wanted to check in, but of course, I can't tell him that. He'd totally freak if mentioned I was doing a little mission for the demon council.

He might freak anyway, though, when I invite him to Crimson City to meet my vishtau mate. Dad understands the concept, after all he's a mate to my mom, but he's not going to like it. I think he hoped with the demon life span, that he might be lucky enough to be dead before I met my mate. Sorry, Dad.

Actually, it might be entertaining to watch Conor and my father. I doubt either of them will think so, but then they both need to work on finding the humor life has to offer.

Dad will figure out pretty quickly that Conor's demon blood comes from a very dark branch and he won't like that. I'll have to remind him that demon males are very protective of their mates and would die for them if that's what it took to keep them safe. That should mollify him a little, although Conor's grumbly exterior isn't going to warm up my father to him that much. I know my mate is a marshmallow under all that defensive fustiness, but Dad will just see the prickly wall.

I shudder to think how he'll react to the news we're planning to get married so quickly. No doubt, he'll try to convince me to wait, although that's silly given the way the vishtau works. I sure don't plan to tell him that Conor and I have already done the rite that bonds mates for life. Speaking of freaking out...

And of course, while this is going on, Conor will become more withdrawn and prickly, which will, in turn, make my dad grow more leery. And all the while, I'll be trying to play peacemaker. Me! I'd much rather be stirring the pot and watching the results, but I could never do that to either man. I love both of them too much.

Males can be such a trial.


At 10/29/2005 08:32:00 AM, Blogger McCabe said...

What the hell do you mean you're not going to tell your father we've done the binding ritual? It might reassure him, you know.

And damn it, honey, I am not a marshmallow.

At 10/29/2005 08:41:00 AM, Blogger Mika McCabe said...

Of course you're not a marshmallow. What was I thinking to say such a thing? Why don't we go to bed, McCabe?


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