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at least it would be cheaper than the time she bought every single product labeled “As Seen on TV.”
    She waved good night and went down the hallway. A moment later her bedroom door clicked closed.
    I sat down on the sofa where Juliet had been and picked up the popcorn bowl. Only a few crumbs left at the bottom. I set the bowl on the table.
    “What were you guys watching?” I asked my father.
    “A show about birds of prey. Their habitats, behavior—that sort of thing.”
    “Feeding habits?” I doubted wild falcons had much popcorn in their diet.
    “Let’s gloss over that part,” he said, popcorn spilling from his beak. “I figure, though, that if I’m going to be in this body, I have to be able to pass myself off as an actual falcon when needed. If I act like myself, I’ll end up as a sideshow attraction.”
    “Or the Night Hag’s pet.” Dad had escaped from the Night Hag, but she was a huntress at heart and would never quit trying to get him back. Although she didn’t know the falcon was my father—almost no one did—she’d offered me a trade. If I returned the white falcon to her, she would release Kane from his servitude as a hellhound.
    Kane, free of pain and subjugation.
    Her offer was tempting, I had to admit. I’d take her up on it in a heartbeat, except for two things. One: The falcon in question was my father. And you just don’t hand your dad over to an evil, vindictive spirit, even if it means freeing your boyfriend from same. Two: Obscure, ancient prophecies hinted that a white falcon had a role to play in the coming war among the realms. Unfortunately, said prophecies were obscure enough that we didn’t know exactly what that role would be—or even if Dad was the falcon referred to. But when hundreds of thousands of lives are at stake, you don’t sit around playing guessing games.
    Still . . . there was Kane. The warmth that made his gray eyes glow when he smiled. His courage, the courage to go to hell and back—for me. His sense of fair play. His belief in justice. The Night Hag wanted to destroy all that, to strip away everything that made Kane who he was, leaving nothing but a shattered, empty shell.
    It almost made me think it would be worth it, worth
anything
, to wrest Kane from her power.
    For three weeks, my thoughts had circled in that endless loop: Dad . . . the prophecies . . . Kane. Over and over again. I thought I’d have time to plan a strategy. But now the full moon was approaching, and I still didn’t see any way out of this mess.
    It didn’t help that Dad had made me swear to keep his return a secret. I hadn’t told a soul, not even Kane. Not even Mab, my aunt and demon-fighting mentor—and I told her
everything
. Mab knew I’d brought the white falcon out of the Darklands, but she didn’t know Dad had come with it.
    Dad, done inspecting the coffee table for popcorn kernels, perched on the back of the sofa and preened his feathers.
    “Have you told Mom yet?” I asked. When Dad wasn’t hanging out at my place watching TV, he spent most of his time staking out the suburban neighborhood of my sister, Gwen. Mom had left her retirement condo in Florida to move in with the Santini family for a while, helping Gwen’s daughter, Maria, adjust to the shapeshifting abilities she was starting to manifest. Mom and Gwen had both remarked several times on the large white falcon nesting in the area. But my promise to Dad kept me silent. As far as I could tell, Juliet was the only one besides me who knew—and I suspected that had something to do with her willingness to make popcorn.
    “Of course I’ll tell your mother. I’m waiting for the right moment.”
    “Dad, there
is
no right moment. When a bird opens his beak and starts talking, it’s bound to be a shock. When that bird says, ‘Hi, honey, I’m home. Did you miss me?’ it’s guaranteed to up the voltage.”
    “I don’t see what’s so strange about a talking bird. Parrots talk.”
    “But they