Bribe
[brīb]
1. persuade (someone) to act in one’s favor, typically illegally or dishonestly, by a gift of money or other inducement.
“I always saw it as a reward, not a bribe.” 

When Keir messaged his parents between first and second period, he received no response from either of them. No, “Oh good, you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere!” or “I’m so glad a monster isn’t nomming on your leg for an afternoon snack!” Even a simple “okay” would have sufficed. The only reason he even knew they saw them was because their read receipts were on.

The school day was long and annoying, especially as his cold got worse. His whole body was aching, and he was freezing, not to mention that he’d run out of cough drops so he had nothing to soothe his aching throat. He likely should have gone to the nurse, but he figured that being sent home would only make his parents more pissed, that is if they were even mad in the first place. Things only got worse during lunch when he stumbled upon Nyx and his girlfriend, whatever her name was, making out in a deserted hallway. Apparently, she wasn’t as Godly as the cross around her neck suggested. He promptly turned around without getting the Biology book he needed for next period.

When the school day was over, Keir’s stomach was flipping from nerves. He didn’t know what to expect. He had no idea if he was in trouble, if his parents even cared that he’d essentially disappeared for about twenty-four hours. Had his mom gone in and checked on Birdie? Made sure she had food and water? Had the Mourning Dove sat in his room all day, scared and alone and unsure if he was in trouble? Guilt washed over him, and he sped up. He needed to get home and check on his familiar.

When he pulled up to the baby blue manor, nothing seemed amiss. Both of his parents’ cars were in the driveway, his dad hadn’t had to go on any business trips yet. He stepped out of his car, inching towards the steps. Once he was up them, he stared at the shiny brass door handle for a few moments, as if the door might swing open by itself.

Keir sucked in a deep breath and opened it himself. No one was waiting at the doorway to yell at him. He let out a sigh of relief and kicked off his shoes, shedding his backpack and setting it on the floor. He shuffled into the living room, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Both of his parents were there, his Dad reading over a newspaper, mother playing on her tablet. They both straightened up immediately, setting down their things and giving him a pointed stare.

“Where have you been?” His father asked with a frown, looking his son over. “And what are you wearing?”

“It’s a really long story.” Keir sighed and plopped down on the chair across from his parents. “I discovered a new ability.”

Both of their eyebrows shot up. “Really? Show us.” His mother was smiling. He was glad that they were distracted for the moment.

Keir sighed and concentrated, holding his hand out. He was still weak and sick, so he couldn’t produce more than a few small sparks that danced across his palms before disappearing. “I created a whole storm yesterday.” He mumbled, “I’m still really tired from it.”

“Oh, that’s great sweetie. I knew you were a Delaney.” His mother smiled affectionately, getting up to pull him in a hug.

He let her hug him for a moment before mumbling, “I’m really tired, I think I’m gonna go to my room.”

Fortunately, they let him without complaint. They seemed to have forgotten why they were even questioning him in the first place. He trudged up the stairs, feeling more and more drained with each step. He really needed a nap.

When he pushed open the door, his eyes swept across the room in search of his familiar. She was perched on the bird swing dangling from the ceiling. Birds didn’t really have facial expressions, but he was pretty sure if they did, her’s would be pissed. She was angled away from him though she new he was in the room.

“I’m sorryyyyy.” He whined and immediately sneezed afterward. “I should’ve contacted you sooner. Did you get my message this morning?”

She didn’t respond and Keir rolled his eyes. Of course, the silent treatment. Keir shut the door behind him before plopping himself down on his bed.

“I’ll make you your favorite treats. Enough to last you a whole week.” He suggested, crossing his legs and watching her.

The bird shuffled a bit, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge what he’d said. This was standard, Birdie never forgave him so easily.

“And I’ll buy you a new mirror. And a toy. Maybe even a new ladder.”

More shuffling and silence. He could tell she was starting to crack with the way her eyes darted toward him, but she had an agenda apparently. Keir crossed his arms over his chest, thinking hard. He knew exactly what she wanted, but he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea.

“Fine.” He groaned loudly and huffed, “You can talk to the Crow outside. But you have to promise me you’ll be safe.”

“Great!” Her voice twittered in his mind. She fluttered over to him happily, landing on his shoulder and nuzzling his cheek. “I expect you to deliver all your other promises tomorrow when you aren’t so sick.”

“Naturally.” He laughed and pet her little head, “Yesterday was crazy. That guy, Nyx, he’s a Necromancer.”

”What?!” Birdie exclaimed, absolutely flabbergasted. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Also, I can shoot lightning out of my hands now.”

They gossiped for a while, and Keir recounted what had happened the day before. He conked out and slept for the rest of the evening and through the night.