I stuffed my hands into my pockets as I waited for Dad to open the door. There was a moment before a shadow covered the line under it. "Who is it?"

   "It's me, Dad."

   He didn't hesitate. The locks unlatched and the door cracked open. A tired, brown eye looked through the gap. It widened and crinkled as my father smiled. Despite myself, a flood of relief hit me and I smiled. "Gonna let me in or do I need to pick the lock to prove it's really me?"

   He snorted. "I don't feel like replacing it again."

   "It would be the fourth time, right?"

   "Maybe if you wouldn't keep forgetting your key--"

   "It's not my fault that it's faster to pick this lock than to use that old thing--"

   The door fully opened and he stepped, wrapping me into a hug. I relaxed and snickered, hugging him back tightly. He pulled back and examined my face. "How've you been?"

   Oh, perfectly fine. Got attacked by Dani again. Learned that she really wants me dead. No biggie. "Well enough." I shot a look over my shoulder at Alexie. "Considering who I've been stuck with."

   He blinked at me. Dad squinted up at him, gauging. He clearly recognized him, not fooled by the hat. "Albers."

   "Ronald," replied Alexie evenly.

   Dad was going to keep glaring at Alexie and I knew Alexie wouldn't blink until he stopped. I sighed and put my hands on my dad's shoulders. "The testosterone is killing me," I complained, pushing Dad into the apartment. "Yeah, you're both big mean men. We get it. Chill. your asses."

   Dad looked at me with a frown. "Watch your language."

   "I don't carry a dictionary everywhere, Dad. You should know this by now."

   Alexie shook his head. "I'll be back." His footsteps moved down the hall. I knew he probably didn't like staying in one place. I moved into the apartment and shut the door. Dad reached behind me and flipped the lock. "That man," he grumbled.

   I snorted. "You have no idea."

   Nothing had changed in the apartment. Dad still refused to accept one style of furniture. Some of the chairs were leather, some fabric. None of the wood matched. When my mother reigned over the decorations, it had all matched. Slowly, as things broke and were replaced, Dad had managed to put together the best mis-matched apartment in history.

   I dropped onto the couch and kicked off my shoes. Dad returned from the pantry and tossed me a blue box. I grinned and tore open the Poptarts. "You know me so well."

   "I do." Dad sunk into his seat and blew out a breath. "So, has Alexie figured out how to train a witch?"

   I paused, a Poptart hovering in front of my mouth. "What do you mean?"

   Dad frowned. "Aren't you a witch? Both your mother and I are."

   "Uh, no?" I bit into my Poptart and exhaled with joy. Damn, I'd missed Poptarts.

   He blinked. "How's that possible?"

   "I'm a secret agent and not your child at all. Sorry, I forgot to tell you," I said sarcastically. Dad snorted. I took another large bite of Poptart goodness.

   "Then what are you?"

   "A mage," I said around my food. Dad smacked my knee. "Swallow before speaking." I snorted. "A mage, you said?" At my nod, he rubbed his scruff. "Well, I guess it makes sense. Anabel's mother was a mage. What's your color?"

   My mouth was still full of food. I raised my hand and held my palm up. Golden sparks flew from my skin and crimson ran up my arm like a backwards waterfall, pooling in my palm. Some dripped through my fingers and dissolved into sparks before it hit the couch.

   He nodded. "Her's was maroon with white sparks. So I suppose, like it did with your mother, magic skipped a generation. Her parents were mages. Mine were witches. Her family always had a shade of dark reds. Your's is the brightest shade I've ever seen in this family."

   I shrugged, pulling out another Poptart. "I need to stock up on these."

   He chuckled. "Keep the box. So, why the visit?" I smacked his wandering hand away from my Poptarts. "You can't be done, yet. You're still in the first stage, aren't you?"

   "Uh..." I rubbed my neck a bit. "Well, I'm not. I'm two-thirds the way through." 

   He stared. "You don't sound like you're kidding. Why don't you sound sarcastic?"

   "Probably because I'm not."

   "How's that possible? You've only been gone for five months. It took me nearly two years to reach the third stage." He sounded awed. I shrugged. "Blame Alexie. He's mean."

   His eyes narrowed. "He's not putting you into any danger, is he?"

   I snorted. "Please. Of course he is."

   "But--"

   "Come on, Dad, since when has that stopped me?"

    He grunted. "I hate that that's a valid point when it comes to you."

   I cracked a grin and waved my Poptart at him. "One of my friends is hosting some sort of party. I'm assuming you want to come?"

   His face lit up. "Of course I do! Where is it?"

  "Uh, I have no idea."

   "Well, I'll figure it out. This is a big thing in neutral culture, Roxie. Getting to the third stage is incredible. It's not easy. Especially for someone that hasn't been practicing magic their whole life. Have you got anything to wear?"

   I looked at my clothes. "Jeans aren't acceptable? What kind of culture is this?"

   He laughed and got up. "I'll clean up and we'll grab you something. I'm not letting my daughter not outshine everyone in that room." 

   My face lit up. "Shopping? Is this shopping, I hear?" I wasn't a girly-girl, but I did enjoy shopping. It was an easy way to spend time. Dad nodded and I grinned, wrapping up my Poptarts and setting them on the counter. He returned with his hair brushed and shoes on. I bounced out the door, locked elbows with him, and then we were off, one person clearly less excited than the other.

   We returned in a few hours. I had a bag over my arm and both of us had soft pretzels. Alexie was waiting for us at the door. I showed off my pretzel with a maniac grin. "You missed out."

   His eyes found the bag hanging from my arm. "I highly doubt it."

   The mental image of Alexie in a dress shop made me snort. Dad unlocked the apartment. I was about to step inside when Alexie jerked his head. "The party starts in an hour. Your friends want to see you."

   "Oh, shoot. Where is it?"

   He pulled an address from his pocket. I handed it over to Dad. "I'll see you there, okay?"

   "Can't wait." He beamed and wrapped me into another hug. I kissed his cheek. "Try to look decent, aight?"

   "Oh, hush. Try not to get yourself into trouble on the way there."

   "Oh, shi--" His glare cut me off. I cleared my throat. "--Shoot. Guess I'd better not get into trouble." I stuck out my tongue. "There goes my plan."

   Dad wagged a finger at me, fighting a smile. I waved at him as he closed the door. Alexie raised his eyebrows as I turned to him. My gut sank. "Shit. I'm taking us, aren't I?"

   He bobbed his head. I swore loudly enough that Dad yelled through the door, "Watch your language!"

   "I don't have a flippin' dictionary, Dad!"