khaki slacks, crease still visible in the legs, and a striped Oxford shirt. His dark hair had more gray than my mom's but it was attractively salt-and-peppered.

His expression was guarded, which I'd expected. As a boy, my dad had also listened to my grandfather's stories. He looked Paul up and down, much as my mother had. Where my mom had no doubt noticed Paul's chiseled features and lean muscles, visible even under his well-tailored clothes, I wasn't sure what my dad saw.

Paul stood quietly under the scrutiny, meeting my father's gaze calmly but saying nothing. I wanted to hug my dad, but I waited, letting him do his thing. As his eyes moved over my partner, I noticed the tell-tale gleam of aura sight, and I tensed.

My father is a powerful warlock, and...

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