Hoist by her own petard. Stacia stiffened in her seat, jaw clenching.

"My mother didn't help with shit."

She pressed her lips together, breathing deeply as she dragged all the rage back inside herself, where she could bottle it up until she needed it.

They still haven't talked about it, not really. Her mother could have warned her and never did.

"It's not easy to keep it from them, no," she answered breezily, like furious hiss she'd just let loose hadn't happened. But considering how much she'd needled him, Stacia was sure that he wasn't going to let it go. "But you know, magic nonsense. Plus, there are absolutely werewolf hunters out there."

Thank goodness they're playing Two Truths and a Lie instead of Truth or Dare. This time around, she actually has to think about it.

"I'm only half-confident on this one," she admitted. "Is it the languages?"