Parrish's weekly phone call to his parents took on an extra-special surreal edge as soon as he said "A co-worker tried to kill me. He tried to burn me to death."
They always used speakerphone so Jordan knew both his mom and dad could hear him, but for a moment, there was only the hum of his father's wave distorter used to stop both government mind control signals and official eavesdroppers (available for only three easy payments of $29.99).
Then, in the background, he heard his father give a triumphant shout. "I knew it!"
"You're okay?" his mom asked in the hushed, low voice she normally reserved for informing him of their latest "proof" of governmental cover-up—serious, saddened, and a little-bit awed at their nerve. "You sound okay."
"I'm fine," Parrish replied evenly. "But I shouldn't be. So I was wondering, if… If there was something either of you would like to tell me," he said slowly and with emphasis, like a dumb tourist trying to force the locals to understand English.
"I knew it!" his dad repeated. His voice was a lot louder, so Parrish knew he'd shifted closer to the phone. That was a big thing, because his dad usually stayed at least three feet back from the phone.
For whatever reason, three feet was what his father believed to be the effective range limit of various government and alien mind-control signals. For him to move closer, meant his father was going to say something he considered important enough to risk the government eavesdroppers.
Okay, that conspiracy theory actually turned out to be true—didn't mean Jordan was going to buy into the rest of them, but he'd burned to death last week…
Jordan braced himself to find out he was some kind of quarter-blood demi-god, like out of that young-adult book series. He just hoped he didn't actually end up with a satyr as his new partner. He'd take a werewolf over a satyr. At least he knew the Alpha.
"What did you know, dad?" His voice stuck in his throat, and it was barely louder than the distorter.
Oh, God. They were going to tell him his grandmother had consorted with faeries! He was an alien they'd found in a pod in the wild…
"I knew they'd done something to you in the army!" his father whisper-shouted. "Secret tests, you didn't even know about."
All the tension flowed out of Parrish so fast he felt light-headed.
"It makes sense, though, don't it?" his dad went on. "Too many soldiers dying makes the government look bad, so they'd want to alter your DNA so that it could withstand things like explosions and fire…"
"Oh, honey," his mother said to him, voice filled with distress. "I knew we should've gotten you checked out for implants or gene-splicing when you got back."
Jordan let the familiar words wash over him in a burr both odd and soothing. His parents were weird, and completely whacked out about a lot of things, but there was absolutely no doubt that they cared about him. They didn't entirely approve of the choices he'd made, but they loved him just the same.
"I was thinking more of anything Grandpa Radmilo might have told you, Dad. You know family stories, legend. Myths from 'The Old Country'…" Parrish nudged.
"Why would you want to know that stuff?" his father asked, baffled. "Your deda was crazy!"