The door to the guesthouse banged open more loudly than I intended it to—my face was still burning, my mind racing with what had just happened, so I wasn’t paying attention. It didn’t really matter, though. There was only one other occupant in the guesthouse just now, and I didn’t really care if I inconvenienced him.

My dad was lying on his side in his bed, and he rolled over to look at me as I came in. I shut the door more gently and looked around before deciding to flop onto the bed furthest from him as possible. I reached down to pull off my shoes—slick boots made of an unfamiliar material that Nadin had brought me in the hospital—and tossed the first one in a heap on the floor.

“What's eating you, kid?” Dad said, sitting up and watching me intently. He acted like nothing was wrong—like I had no reason to be mad at him.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered.

“Heh, are you sore about that Ceilos guy showing up and ruining things for you with the alien girl?”

I froze, my right boot halfway off my foot. “How do you know about Ceilos?”

Dad grinned, looking obnoxiously pleased with himself. He rose from the bed and strolled over, stopping directly in front of me. “Well, I figured that was his name when you all kept saying it over and over.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said, my voice unreadable even to me. “Were you… were you spying on me?” I thought about the way I’d turned tail and fled the minute Gitrin turned up with Ceilos, and my face got hot. That was the last conversation I wanted my dad eavesdropping on.

The grin faded off Dad’s face. “I wouldn’t call it spying, necessarily. Oh, come on, Isaak, don’t look at me that way.” He sat on the foot of the bed next to me, putting a hand on my knee. “After what happened earlier… I wasn’t sure if you were going to come back here at all. I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to see you again. And…” He trailed off, then said in a small voice, “I didn’t want that, Isaak. So I just was looking for you. That’s all.”

Guilt crept up from the pit of my stomach. Maybe I was being too hard on him. He didn’t know what we’d all gone through over the last two years. Maybe… maybe he really was trying, and I needed to give him a chance.

“It’s okay, Dad,” I said, smiling tightly.

He smiled back, ruffling my hair like he used to when I was little. Then he said, “So, does this mean you’re not slobbering over Tamara anymore? Or are you just sowing some wild oats?”

I groaned, my shoulders slumping. “Dad, don't be gross.”

“Ah, come on, niño. You’re not still on about that oddball demigod thing, are you?”

“Demisexual, Dad,” I corrected him through gritted teeth. “And it’s not an ‘oddball’ thing, thanks so much. It’s normal. Lots of people feel this way.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Right. And that’s why you have to make up a weird, complicated name for it.”

I jumped to my feet, pushing away from him. “It’s not weird, and I didn’t make it up! I’ve told you a million times. It’s completely simple: I just don’t feel sexual attraction that much. Not unless there’s a bond first. That’s all there is to it.”

He gave me a look that said he still didn’t believe me. I knew what he was thinking—there was no such thing as a guy who didn’t want to bang everything in sight. But it was the truth, and I was getting really sick of having this argument.

“Here we torquing go again, Dad!” I snapped. “I haven’t seen you for two annums, and already you’re on my back. Can you go for even five minutes without harping on me? Is it really any of your business what I do with my life, how I handle my relationships?”

“Of course it’s my business,” Dad snapped. “You’re my son.”

“Really? Because it sure hasn’t felt that way in a long time. The last time I saw you was before my fifteenth birthday. You haven’t been there for me while I was growing up, what makes you think you get a say now?”

“That’s not fair, Isaak. I didn’t leave you on purpose.”

“Are you sure? Because I saw what you left in that box in the garden. Where’s your wedding ring, Dad?”

He blinked at me, then glanced down at his left hand. But he didn’t say anything.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. Maybe you weren’t planning on coming to Iamos. But you were still going to leave all the same.”

“I wouldn’t have abandoned you, Isaak,” he said softly. “I would have kept in touch with you.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “Look. Things weren’t working out with me and your mom. Everyone knew it. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you and Celeste.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, turning my back on him and looking up at the green, leafy roof of the guesthouse. “Look, forget it. There’s nothing going on between me and Nadin. She’s engaged to Ceilos, and she’s my friend. That’s all there is to it. So let’s just drop it and get some sleep.”

Dad nodded, getting up to move back to his own bed. When he was safely out of my space, I moved back, sitting down on my bed and trying to fight off the scowl that was still pulling at the corners of my mouth. I wish I’d never come out to him to begin with, back in ninth grade. Everyone else in my life—Mom, Abuelo and Abuela, even Henry—had been totally stellar about it. Everyone except Dad. He just couldn’t comprehend a life that didn’t one hundred percent completely and totally revolve around sex. He’d been all over me about Tamara before he disappeared, and I could just tell that he wasn’t going to let this Nadin thing go, either.

Still, I couldn’t get it out of my mind—that spark when she put her hands on my chest like that. I ran my hand over the soft woven coverlet thoughtfully. I’d never felt like that before—except with one other person.

This was ridiculous. Nadin was my friend.

But Tamara had been my friend, too. That’s how it always worked for me. Normally I didn’t even think about it, but at times like this it felt like a torquing curse.

“Hey, Isaak,” Dad said suddenly from across the room. I looked over at him warily, dreading what he was going to say now.

But I didn’t get a chance to find out. Just then, the door to the guesthouse swung open, and Eos entered, carrying a lantern.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he said. “We just found out that we’ve got a few new refugees joining us tonight, so they’ll be staying here with you and your father.” He ushered in two people, a man and a woman, who looked strangely familiar to me. It took me a moment before I recognized them—the couple who had been playing ulama in the plaza last week.

“This is Corin,” Eos said, gesturing to the woman, “and Gios.”

I grinned. “I saw you two before, in Hope Renewed. How did you get away from the Enforcers?”

“One of our best runners was with them. We weren’t about to abandon them,” said Eos. “And we’ve developed… certain techniques over the years. Enforcers usually can’t hold our people for long.”

“It’s easy to trick a mind that’s reliant on the System?” I said. Eos tugged his earlobe.

Dad broke in, “Mind telling me what’s going on here?” He was glaring at Gios and Corin, who stared back at him in confusion. I rolled my eyes, and was about to start translating when Eos cleared his throat.

“There’s one other thing, Isaak.”

My eyebrow arched, and Eos pushed the door open wider—revealing a man with a shock of white hair and a crooked, hawkish nose standing just behind him.

“I think we’re going to need your help again.”