"I spoke with the President," Bill said aloud. Everybody turned to listen. I was sitting at the kitchen island having a glass of water; Roff was sitting next to me having a sandwich after fixing one for Winkler and Chris. Tony, René and Gavin were off doing training again, from which I had been excluded. Roff's sandwich actually smelled good; it was roast beef, thin-sliced with tomato, cheese and lettuce. I got up and made one for myself, asking Bill if he wanted something while I worked. He smiled and nodded, so I put two sandwiches together and then settled on my barstool to eat while we listened to Bill.
"The president wants to give you another commendation," Bill took a bite of his sandwich.
"Ummm," I was busy chewing a mouthful of roast-beef sandwich and it tasted like heaven. I closed my eyes and sighed in pleasure. I could taste it! That was amazing. Winkler was watching me, a look of fascination crossing his features. When I swallowed, I said, "Bill, I haven't looked at the last one. Or the Medal of Freedom." I felt embarrassed over that, but so many things had happened at that time, including Tony's little betrayal, that I'd handed it back to Merrill and refused to read the letter or open the medal case.
"How are you eating that?" Winkler interrupted. He was shaking his head in confusion. I was enjoying my food.
"Honey," I turned to study his handsome face, "I feel a lot more like I do now than I did a while ago." That wasn't mine—I was quoting an old friend, Bill Scholes, who'd lived close to Don and me. He'd moved away when he retired and we didn't get to see him after that. I missed his philosophical musings. I smiled at Winkler and took another bite of my sandwich.
"Raona, I hope you do not have to be sick later," Roff was concerned, too; I could tell.
"We'll see. I haven't coughed up any wine or water lately, and I always had to before."
"Lissa, I have a confession to make." Griffin was there in the kitchen, scaring Bill, Winkler and Michael half to death. Well, Kifirin and the Larentii weren't the only ones with Nexus Echo. Winkler looked as if he were about to pull me to safety and start fighting with Griffin. I patted his arm.
"Winkler, this is my father," I said, nodding in Griffin's direction.
"You're the werewolf?" Griffin held his hand out to Winkler. Winkler took it, still eyeing my natural father with distrust. I knew what that look on his face meant; he couldn't scent Griffin any better than I could and the news that I had a father was shocking. I'm sure Winkler had all the old records on me, just as the vampires did. More than likely, he knew all about Howard Graham. Griffin was reading Winkler's mind, too.
"That man was never Lissa's father," Griffin huffed. He turned back to me, then. "Lissa, sweetheart, I gave my blood to you after you were wounded on Refizan. It was during the day and you were nearly asleep. That's why you don't remember, baby. My blood will allow you to walk in daylight and eat normal food if you want. You can still live on blood, but you don't have to. I also removed the shield disc on the back of your neck. You don't need it, now."
I was gaping at him, my mouth likely hanging open in shock. Griffin offered a crooked smile. "The blood of my kind can do wondrous things, little girl. Did you think I would hold back from that as soon as I had permission?"
"I don't know what you might do," I mumbled, staring at my half-eaten sandwich. "Do you want something to eat or drink?"
"Something to drink would be nice," he agreed. Roff slipped off his barstool before I could and brought Griffin a glass of wine. Griffin sat down with us to drink it.
"You don't look old enough to be Lissa's father," Bill said. He was getting information he never thought existed.
"I am more than one hundred thousand years old," Griffin smiled at the Director of the Joint NSA/Homeland Security Department. Michael was the one who gasped. I did my best not to look shocked, even though I was.
"Can you tell us where Jimmy Hoffa is?" Winkler grinned and stuffed a corner of his sandwich in his mouth.
"I could, but that is considered interfering. I can't do that," Griffin was also grinning now.
"Now we know why Lissa's special," Winkler responded.
"Lissa's special for many reasons and not just because I'm her father," Griffin replied.
Tony seemed a little worse for wear when he, Gavin and René wandered into the kitchen. He looked like he'd been in a fight and I wondered what Gavin was teaching him. Whatever it was, I wasn't getting those lessons. "Dude, you look like you need a good laundering," I lifted the tail of Tony's shirt; it was hanging out and appeared to have slid through the grass more than once.
"Are you calling me dude?" One of Tony's dark eyebrows lifted.
"I called you dude, dude. Want to step outside now?"
"I don't need another ass-kicking," Tony grinned, a dimple appearing in his cheek.
"Uh-huh," I said, handing Gavin an accusing stare.
"Cara, he needs to know these things," Gavin huffed. Griffin laughed.
"Where's that superhero costume now?" I poked Tony in the ribs.
"I landed on a planet with bigger, badder superheroes," Tony said. "Have to work my way up again."
"Poor thing." I patted Tony's back. Gavin frowned and cleared his throat. I slid off my stool and went to him. "Poor thing," I patted him on the back. René burst out laughing.
"Cara, if your father were not here," Gavin threatened.
"He means that in the nicest way possible," I patted his flat stomach. I was thinking that most men would kill to get abs like that.
"She just paid you a compliment," Griffin said, sipping his wine.