It perfectly explained Chris Mere, the big grabby rhyming kissing dolt.And the bastard was strong. Well, he was big, so she should have expected it, but she’d had no idea how much physical power was lurking within those ropy muscles. She’d tried her very best to beat the hell out of him, and he’d come away from it with only scratches.But he’d be sore tomorrow, by God.Her parents had been utterly at a loss. It was inconceivable that a Mere showed up years early, that a Mere was talking peace. Neither of them knew what to do, and both of them thought it might be a trick or a trap of some kind. The de Meres had a centuries-old rep for treachery.Interestingly, Violet spoke up for him. And Rhea had been forced to admit to Power and Flower that not only had he not hurt the little girl, he’d taken several blows to avoid hurting her. That made her folks reel all over again.After some discussion, they decided it would be disrespectful (not to mention leaving them open to embarrassing questions if someone stopped by) to leave an unconscious Mere in their driveway, so they dragged him inside, all the way to the guest room.Her mother had hesitantly brought a warm, wet washcloth, tiptoed to the bed, then handed the washcloth to Rhea and hurriedly left, clearly not interested in hanging around the unconscious witch.Rhea considered gagging him with the washcloth, then gave it up and gently wiped the gravel and small trickles of dried blood off the left side of his face.
