Picking up my phone, I dial Mama’s number. I knew I was going to be talking to her today the moment I called in the package issue to P.I.R.

Mama receives news from the Otherworld with a disconcerting swiftness. She knows everything about everyone, it seems.

Her Latinx voice fills the speakers and I smile despite myself at the familiar sound. The scrape of silverware against plates, sounds of people eating, and the murmur of chatting in the background.

She’s mother to every person in the Otherworld that lacks family. Some dragons hoard gold, purses, books, you name it, but Mama, she collects stray people. I was one of her strays, a kid aged out of the P.I.R. orphanage system with a high school education and a chip on my shoulder. Between my best friend Arabella, her adopted family, and Mama, I survived and made it through to become a detective.

“Good, you got my text.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t, Mama.”

“Well, if you called me first, I wouldn’t need to, now, would I?”

I sigh and start another kettle of water on the stove. It’s going to be a day, and I have none of my usual outlets available to me.

“What happened?” Her question interrupts my wayward thoughts.

“I got a package. It was leaking.”

“Leaking?”

“Blood, I think.”

“Come over stay here, Nina.”

“No, thank you, Mama, but you know me.”

“Aiee I do.” A crashing sound fills the speaker. I hear Mama’s muffled voice give endearments and instructions in Spanish. “Nina, I need to go.”

“By Mama.” I hang up, and a knock sounds at my door.

Shocked that I didn’t hear the steps creak with his weight. But then again, Mama had distracted me. All I can see of Hunter is his chest when I look out the peephole in the door. Opening it, I smile at my boss.

“Boss, would you like a cup of tea?” I ask as he ducks his massive Titan frame and enters my apartment, and nods.

He takes a seat at my kitchen table, the sturdy wooden chairs able to take his mess. The earthy smell of him intensifies with the steam coming from the kettle as I pour water into two mugs and add the tea bags. Sitting the cups on the table, I grab some creamer and the sugar bowl and take my seat.

“What’s the news?”

“It was flowers.” He doesn’t look at me while he says this, instead, he’s gazing out the window. His hand fisted on the tabletop.

“And the liquid?”

He swallows visibly.

“It’s blood on yellow roses.”

“So yellow roses mean friendship, joy, happiness, and celebrations.”

“That seems to make it even worse knowing that.”

I nod and concentrate on fixing my tea just the way I like it. The light flashes off the silver of the ring Talon gave me and I focus on the shaped thistle.

“I want you to stay with Momma or us.” He bursts out, breaking the silence.

“Funny, had an offer of that choice today. I think you can guess my answer.”

In an exasperated voice, he says. “Damit Avril.”

“What’s your next instruction or piece of advice?”

“I’ll see what I can do, stay safe.”

“Will do, Chief.”

We go back to drinking our tea in companionable silence. It reminds me of those times I’d go fishing with him. Sitting along the bank of the Trinity River pools propped up and watching the day pass us by. The wet green smells filling our noses as mosquitos buzzed around our ears and left me pock-marked with red spots for days.

“I should go. I have to meet with the council this evening.” He says before lifting his large frame up from the chair. The wooden floor creaking at the change in weight of his titan body.

“You take care and say hi to Marian for me, will you? I’ll be by for dinner sometime soon.”

“Good, we love having you over.”

I rise and open the door to the misty rain, painting the parking lot below a deeper gray and filling the potholes. A little brown bird is taking a bath in one already.