"Do you think that's possible?" I drew in a shaky breath. "That my real father might have had another family? I'm assuming he's dead now, since I'm as old as I am."
"Your father could be quite old now, but still alive," Wlodek said quietly.
"You think he could be a target?" That opened up new and horrible possibilities for me. I wondered who he was and why my mother had her fling with him. I assumed that's what it was; a chance meeting, followed by a brief affair. Had my father even known he'd fathered a child? I'd read a short story once, about a child who imagined he'd been fathered by someone more important than his own father. I couldn't imagine that my mother had any aspirations in that area. She was mostly realistic; dealing with what she had and not what might have been. Perhaps Howard Graham had been sterile, too, and that's why I never had any sisters or brothers.
"I would hope that Xenides never learns who your father is," Merrill snorted. "I find it unlikely, actually. I feel he would need greater resources than he now has to obtain this information." Merrill turned away from me as he made the statement.
"I hope so," I mumbled. "I don't think I'd like to lose another parent to violence, although I don't know who he is or anything about him. My mother never said a word; she just let me believe I belonged to Howard Graham, though he claimed to the last I wasn't his. Turns out he was right."
"That did not give him the right to murder your mother and to nearly kill you, too," Gavin pulled me against him. "No man has that right and no vampire has that right. It is a death sentence if a vampire kills his mate or companion."
"A stroke killed Howard Graham. He's buried in the prison cemetery; nobody went to see him before he died, either." I said. "He had a brother who walked away from him when he killed my mom. Travis lived in Ohio at the time. I don't know if he's still alive."
"Travis Graham's safety should not be an issue since we know his brother was not your natural father," Wlodek said. "What about aunts and uncles on your mother's side?" He was still toying with Merrill's letter opener, focusing on it and not looking at me.
"Mom had an older brother who died in World War II; he died of peritonitis on the battlefield—they couldn't get treatment for him fast enough," I said. Merrill nodded; I'd told him this when Franklin had appendicitis. "He's buried in France, at Colleville-Sur-Mer, I think."
"His name?" Wlodek picked up a pen to write.
"Cecil Hart," I replied.
"Very well, we will investigate this." The pen scratched across paper on Merrill's desk. "Do you know if he was married or had any children?"
"Mom never said anything." Had he? I never thought to ask. Mom always cried when she talked about him, so I didn't ask any questions. There wasn't much information on him either, when I cleaned out the house before Don and the lawyer helped me sell it. It held too many awful memories for me to keep it and I'd used the money from that plus the life insurance policy to buy the house that Don and I lived in for twenty-three years.
"Charles," Wlodek said, handing over the scrap of paper.
"I'll search the records right away," Charles was already tapping on his computer. That man—or vampire—could do six things at once.
"How close were you with your husband's relatives?" Wlodek asked next. Uh-oh. I hadn't even thought about them; I'd been too concerned about my side of the family. I was going to have to push my brain in all directions.
"We weren't; Don and I only had holiday dinners and birthdays with his brother and his wife, though they lived about twenty miles away from us. David and Sara were at social functions more often than they were at home, sometimes. They had one son, but Danny got killed in Desert Storm."
"What about the son—was he married or did he have children?"
"None as far as I know. He was twenty-two when he died."
"Human wars have not been kind to your family," René murmured.
"They were doing their best to weed out the Workmans and the Harts," I agreed. "Don's father was a Korean war casualty. David went to Viet Nam. He was proud when Danny signed up with the Marines right out of high school. Don had heart disease, so he couldn't serve."
"Anyone else in your family?"
"Not on my mother's side, or my husband's, except for two cousins of Don's and David's; their parents are gone. They both live in Kansas; anyway, that's where they were when Don passed."
"We know about those," Wlodek nodded. He was still playing with Merrill's letter opener; he seemed to like it. I wondered what kind of sword the Greeks carried and what Wlodek's profession had been before he became vampire. It also made me wonder about his sire. I was probably not destined to find out about that.
"Now, Lissa," Wlodek went on, "while I realize that you can do as you like, I hope you understand that it will be a mistake for you to go anywhere alone. If Gavin is not available, then someone else will be assigned to accompany you, should you leave Merrill's estate. I beg you not to ignore me on this." Dark eyes bored into mine, compelling me to listen.
"That's fine, I guess," I grumbled. I could probably take care of myself, but backup was always a good idea.
"I am working out a deal with Paul and Deryn; I am tripling their salary to stay and watch over Franklin and Greg if they venture out during the day. They also will go with Giff and Roff should they need to leave the grounds," Merrill said. "The vampires will not be awake to attack while the sun is up, but they may have human servants. The Werewolves will work out nicely as day guards." We really were going to have a full house, especially if René and Tony stayed.
The meeting was finally over and Gavin herded me toward my bed. He had a few things on his mind besides sleeping, and that's why we were going early.
* * *
"Did she seem upset that she might have a living father somewhere?" Griffin landed in Merrill's kitchen while Merrill poured out a glass of wine for himself and Wlodek. Merrill pulled out another wineglass for Griffin and poured for him, too.
"I think she was worried that her father might be in danger if he still lived," Wlodek sipped his wine and nodded at Merrill. Merrill kept the best wine cellar and the door into it was next to Wlodek's bedroom.
"She was worried about me?" Griffin was beginning to feel hopeful.
"Yes. I believe she thinks her mother's affair was a fleeting one and now thinks her father probably wasn't aware of her existence," Wlodek went on.