Desire: #4 Brightest Kind of Darkness by P.T. Michelle

staying with his sister.”
    Mom shrugs. “Now that he’s here, I’m assuming she’ll cancel.”
    “It’s tomorrow night. She knows you need to buy food to prepare. Has she cancelled yet?”
    An uncomfortable look flashes in my mom’s blue eyes. “No, she hasn’t.”
    “It’s not like you can un-invite her.” I shift my tone slightly, softening it. “He’ll be all alone, Mom.”
    She stiffens. “Whose fault is that?”
    I start to say it would be the right thing to do when she suddenly tilts her head and says, “You know what…why not?” Thoughts trickle across her face like a scrolling neon sign: defiance, inspiration, then smugness. “I’ll call her myself.”
    I realize too late exactly what Mom’s new angle is. David will be here too. She wants Dad to see she’s moved on. Ugh, I didn’t think about how this might possibly be awkward for my teacher or create a tense environment at dinner. I open my mouth to backpedal on my request, then clamp my lips shut. The most I can hope for with this Christmas Eve dinner is to see my mom interacting with my dad again after all these years, even if it’s just dinner conversation. Hopefully Mr. Dixon will take being Mom’s buffer and ego booster in stride.
    Right now, I really miss my ability to see my whole day. I have no idea how this is going to turn out. One thing’s for sure, this Christmas Eve dinner won’t be like any of our past ones.

Chapter Seven

    Nara
     
    With time to kill before Ethan returns, I head to my room to clean it. I’d already taken care of the bathroom, but the rest needed a major reorganization.
    An hour later, I unzip my jacket and set it on the bed, then open my window to cool off a little. I’d just pulled Freddie’s book from under my mattress, then sat down at the desk to look over it, when Patch swoops into my room, his strong wings gliding him inside.
    I gasp at his surprise entrance at the same time Houdini lifts his head from his slumber at the end of my bed. My dog’s big brown eyes go wide and he instantly jumps down, then bolts out the door, his ears tucked to his head, an alarm bark trailing behind him.
    “What was that all about—?” I start to ask Patch once he lands on my bed. I pause when the bird snaps his hard beak together three times toward the open doorway, then makes an annoyed huffing sound.
    My gaze shifts from Patch to the doorway, then back to the massive raven walking around on my comforter, and it hits me what happened. Houdini’s wound is about the size of the tip of a raven’s beak. Patch must’ve gone after him for deserting his post to chase rabbits. The bird has always had a keen sense when I’m in danger.
    Poor Houdini. “Did you have to slice his ear open? Kind of harsh, don’t you think?” I gently reprimand the bird.
    Patch bobs his head, then lets out a low gronk before flying over to land on my desk.
    I keep my hands where they are on the desk, figuring it’s best not to make sudden moves. Considering the way the bird came in after Houdini, he’s obviously in a mood.
    I can’t help but curl my fingers in a little when he bends his powerful beak toward my hand. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until he nudges his beak under my pinky, then lifts it and the finger next to it, sliding his beak and then his head under them.
    Shocked, I exhale slowly and gently run my fingers across his beak, then over the silky feathers on his head. Patch tilts his head and makes a low guttural sound as he steps closer so my hand will slide down his neck.
    I keep my touch light, gently rubbing his feathers. When he pushes the crown of his head against my open palm, then runs his beak along my wrist and gently clamps onto it, my heart swells with understanding. He’s worried about me.
    Tears blur my vision and I blink them away. “I’m okay, Patch. Everything’s fine. The demon’s gone.”
    He releases me, lifting his black eyes to mine. When he bobs his head a couple of times, I