by Tate James
“Copy that,” Wesley replied.
“River, did you make it okay?” I asked, suddenly realizing I hadn’t heard an update from him since we’d left the restaurant.
“Fine and dandy, love. Come on up to the room, and we can debrief.” River’s velvet-smooth British accent soothed me, and I let out a sigh of relief. Those assholes hadn’t been dicking around, and River was still human.
Cole pulled our bike into a parking spot in the underground garage, then lifted me off with strong hands around my waist.
“You did well tonight, Vixen,” he told me, taking my hand in his as we made our way to the elevators. “I don’t know what the hell Pierre was playing at, but it didn’t work for him. You’re still safe, and that is the only thing that matters.”
His words were fierce as we stepped into the elevator box and he turned to face me, cupping my cheek in his palm.
“It’s not the only thing, Cutie,” I corrected him with a small smile. “But you did good too. Thanks for not crashing us into anything.”
He snorted a small laugh, then kissed me gently. “I love you, Vixen. But people have got to stop trying to kill you, or my dragon will lose his shit soon. He’s a moody bastard, you know?”
A wide grin split my lips. “Uh-huh. Your dragon is.”
Cole growled low in his throat and kissed me again, this time slower, more indulgently, and when the elevator dinged that we’d reached our floor, I was breathless and shaking.
We were silent as we walked hand in hand down the long hallway, and I found myself musing on why Jonathan had tried to have me killed. Something didn’t add up, and I intended to figure out what it was.
22
CALEB
My stomach lurched with the familiar sensation of teleportation as my feet hit the grass of Bridget’s backyard. She had enough runes around the house itself that I couldn’t port myself inside, and this was the only place the neighbors wouldn’t see me appearing from thin air.
Why she’d chosen to rent a cookie-cutter, upper middle-class house in the middle of surburbia, I had no idea. She didn’t tend to answer my questions unless they were specifically related to my lessons. Bit of a hypocrite, really, given how many questions she had for me.
“You’re late.” The petite redhead scowled at me as I entered her house via the sliding door to the kitchen. “You were due an hour ago, Caleb. Do you not take these lessons seriously?”
Trying really damn hard not to roll my eyes, I gave her a tight, forced smile of apology. “Sorry, Bridget. I was helping Kit with some things.” I left it vague. She didn’t need to know the specifics of what was going on in her daughter’s life. She’d lost that right when she abandoned Kit as a seven-year-old with no memories. Sure, she’d helped lately, and I was grateful and all, but… She seemed to have an uncanny ability to spot a lie, so I was careful to always tell the truth. Just... a brief and vague truth.
“Helping her with what?” Bridget demanded, her light Irish accent thickening with her frustration. “If you would just tell me what is going on that has you constantly late for these lessons, then maybe I could help. I am her mother, after all.”
I must have been more tired than I thought, because I snorted in disgust. Usually I was careful to keep my contempt for Bridget under wraps. After all, I did need her help. Or... I had needed it. My control over the blood lust had come a really long way, and I was starting to think I’d be okay without her. Being free of lying to Kit by omission would be an added bonus too.
“What? You doubt that I am her mother?” Bridget snapped, her eyes widening with fury, and I scrubbed a tired hand over my face.
“No,” I sighed. “I have no doubt that you’re her biological mother. That is pretty damn obvious.” The resemblance between them was striking. When we’d first met, I would have said they were identical, but having spent the better part of a month training with Bridget on a nightly basis, I could see the differences.
Bridget was shorter than Kit and more slight. Her eyes were several shades darker than my Kitty Kat’s ice-blue, and her hair was more auburn than the copper-red of my girl. Most of all, Bridget’s eyes were hard and cruel.
“I see,” she sniffed in anger. “You’re judging me for the actions I took in giving Christina up for adoption.”
My brows shot up. This was the closest we’d ever come to actually discussing her choice to abandon her daughter. Most of the time our lessons were strictly magical, with the occasional prying question about Kit’s powers, her dianoch, our relationships... all things I’d deftly avoided answering with any substance.
It was bad enough that I was meeting Bridget behind Kit’s back; I’d be damned if I gave away any personal information to her as well.
“Uh, I’m not judging.” I shrugged, even though I already had judged her for it. “Just pointing out the facts. You might have given birth to her, but you are not her mother. No mother would have left her daughter on the streets with no memories. Did you care at all what would happen to her after that? Did you even give a shit that she was tortured and abused for years thanks to your selfish decision?”
Okay, so I was getting worked up and probably giving her far too much information. But her indignation that I had scoffed at her being Kit’s mother was pushing all my buttons.
“I...” Bridget started to respond, but seemed at a loss for words. It was only temporary though, as her cheeks heated with anger, and she scowled at me. “I will have you know, Caleb, that what I did was for her own good!”
“Her own good?” I snorted. “Sure. You keep telling yourself that. I think maybe we’re done with these lessons.” I made as if to leave the room, but she stopped me.
“Wait!” she yelled, and I paused. “Let me explain my side of things. If you still want to be done, then that’s your choice, but at least hear me out so that Christina might understand I’m not such a bad person.”
Suspicion rode heavy in my gaze as I turned slowly back to her. As much as I wanted to tell her to shove off and then never step foot in this house again, I also wanted to hear what possible explanation she had for dropping her daughter onto the streets and never looking back.
“You have five minutes.” I decided. “Make it good.”
“Thank you,” she gushed, flipping her dark red hair over her shoulder. “Sit, please. I had just made us some tea.”
“No.” I waved off her offer of tea but took the seat offered. “Just say what you need to.”
Bridget’s lips pursed tightly, but she said nothing more as she poured her own cup of tea and took the wicker armchair opposite me. My time spent here learning from her had taught me how much she was a stickler for hospitality, and me refusing her tea must have pushed some buttons.
“As you know, I departed Christina’s life when she was just seven years old. Until then, I had raised her myself, as any loving mother would do.” I curled my lip in disgust, and her glare sharpened on me. “I don’t know how much you fully understand about Ban Dia, but we can only procreate after we turn three hundred years old. Well, my dianoch and I were all very much in love, and when Christina was born, we were overjoyed. She was so perfect, even though she showed no signs of being my true descendant. Ban Dia can only ever produce one Ban Dia offspring, you see. All other children are simply other types of normal supernaturals, depending on their father’s lineage.”
This was not new information for me, as Vic had touched on it briefly already. He’d had a bit of a different spin on it... but what Bridget was saying made sense so far.
“Well, as I am sure you have encountered yourself, there are plenty of people who would love to get their hands on a full-blooded Ban Dia for their own selfish means. A lot of groups are convinced that the Ban Dia race will bring the salvation of the supernatural kinds, especially those that are dying out. They didn’t believe that we too were affected by the plague and lack the magic necessary to heal those who were magically castrated.” Her lips twisted in hurt and anger, and I understoo
d there was a long history with some of these groups she spoke of. She had been a resident at Blood Moon labs for over a hundred years, after all.
“Most of my kind have gone into hiding for their own safety, as had I. My guardians and I had escaped a horrific place and moved to Victor’s hometown in Alaska, but even there we weren’t safe. We went back on the run, and then I found out I was pregnant. I was simply terrified that my sweet baby would be targeted by these fanatics, and I did just everything I could to keep her safe, but eventually it just wasn’t enough.” She broke off with a sob, and I hesitated.
The tears pooling in her eyes seemed genuine, and her hands were shaking as she dabbed at them with a fabric napkin pulled from her sleeve. Could she really be telling the truth? That she’d given Kit up... to protect her?
“I can’t go into the details,” she sniffed. “It’s too painful. But after that night... I’d already almost lost one of my loves, Victor, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they got my little girl. I needed to separate from her, for her own good. It took some planning, but I eventually arranged for a trusted friend to take Christina in and raise her as a human. She had displayed none of the typical magic of a Ban Dia—nor of any other species—so we decided it was in her best interests to be brought up human.”
She paused to blow her nose delicately into her handkerchief, and I took a moment to run this new information over in my head. It was kind of understandable... I guessed. I’d witnessed first-hand how ruthless Kit’s enemies were and could hardly comprehend how hard it’d be to raise and protect a child amidst all of this. Especially if that child were human. Wouldn’t it be better not to expose them to this world? If the choice was there...
“So, what happened?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes at Bridget, “You say your trusted friend took Kit in, then how did she come to be found on the streets and then placed in foster care?”
Bridget covered her face for a moment, sobbing into her hands before pulling it together. “I didn’t know any of that until recently, when I tried to track her down. My friend fell ill, terminal with cancer, and got mixed up with mages and blood demons.”
My eyes widened with shock. “Vampires?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “She was hoping the demons would turn her so she didn’t have to die. She offered Christina as payment, thinking she was just a human child that they could put in their stables. Before the demons could shed her blood, a kind-hearted mage smuggled her out of the coven, wiped her memories of anything magical, and left her outside a police station to be found.”
My head felt like it was exploding with this new information, and my heart broke for little Kit. That poor girl had suffered enough in her life; it was probably a blessing that those memories had been erased.
“Why give her a different age?” I asked, trying to process Bridget’s story and test it for truth. “When she was found, she just knew her name and her age, thinking she was five. But she was seven, and apparently Christina wasn’t her name?”
Bridget shrugged one delicate shoulder. “I assume because the mage didn’t know her age? He would have just guessed. Christina was the name I gave her to start her new human life.”
“This is...” I gusted out a heavy sigh. “This is a lot to take in, and I still don’t know if I trust you to be telling the truth.”
“I know; I understand,” she accepted my answer with a forlorn nod and another fat tear rolled down her face. “But I just wanted you to understand. I can see how much you love my daughter, and I know you’ll be good to her. Maybe one day I can reconnect with her?”
She seemed so hopeful that I found myself nodding. “Maybe.”
“Will you tell me something now?” she suggested with a tentative smile. “Nothing that will break her trust; I know you’re too honorable for that. The confidentiality spell I required of you was a mistake on my part, and I can see how much you regret it.”
“That depends.” I frowned. “What do you want to know?”
Her eyes lit up, and I found myself disliking her a little less. If her story was the truth, then she’d been through some pretty hard times herself and maybe just needed a little bit of understanding and patience. To have given up her child at such a young age... I couldn’t fathom how hard it must have been for her.
“I just want to know what it is that she’s been struggling with lately. You’ve mentioned a couple of times that she’s having a hard patch, and if it’s to do with her magic, then perhaps there is something I can do to help?” Her eye contact with me was steady, open, and full of concern for her estranged child.
“Uh...” I chewed my lip. I believed her, against my better judgement, but my loyalty lay with Kit and it always would. Then again, if there really was something she could do to help Kit with the struggle she was having to keep all her different magics from consuming her...
“She is just having a bit of a rough time adjusting to the magic from her already established bonds,” I said carefully. “But I’m sure it’s just an adjustment period. She’ll work it out; she always does.”
Bridget’s mouth tightened, and her eyes flashed with something I couldn’t catch before it was gone again. “It’s unheard of for a Ban Dia to bond more than three dianoch. In fact, some would say it’s impossible. How many of you boys has she bonded now?”
“That’s not relevant,” I replied tersely. I’d been carrying enough stress and worry that what Bridget was saying was true. What if Kit couldn’t bond all six of us. We’d just assumed she could based on Victor’s advice... but what if he was wrong?
Bridget nodded smoothly, then smiled once more. “I think I can help. I myself experienced a similar issue when I found my own guardians, but unfortunately at the time I was under lock and key at the Blood Moon labs and had no one to help me. When we got free, I worked on an amulet that, should my powers ever become that... chaotic again, would help give me clarity.” She stood from her seat and brushed nonexistent lint from her skirt. “Maybe I could give it to you? That way if it ever gets so bad that she needs help, then you’ll already have it there. What do you think?”
Frowning, I hesitated again before nodding. Surely there was no harm in taking the amulet as a backup plan, just in case things got worse for Kit after her next bond? Something told me I might live to regret it if I didn’t take the amulet and we ended up needing it.
“Sure,” I nodded slowly, and Bridget beamed.
“Great! Wait here; I’ll grab it.” She disappeared out of the room, and I could hear her little feet running up the stairs. A sick feeling clawed at my belly, and I sincerely hoped this wasn’t going to bite me in the ass.
But I was a Blood Mage. I was The Blood Mage. Despite my issues with control around power-filled blood, I was still one of the two most powerful Mages in the universe. I’d be sure to check the amulet out thoroughly before ever giving it to Kit. Maybe even get Austin to check it out too...
“Here it is!” Bridget announced, rushing back into the room with a delicate chain of gold hanging from her clenched fist. She held it out to me, and I cautiously took it from her.
“It’s a bracelet,” she explained, as though that wasn’t clear by the length of chain. Hanging from the center was a little gold fox, which must have been the amulet she was referring to.
Holding it up, I inspected it carefully with both my eyes and my other sight. The one that kicked in when my eyes went all weird and snake-like. It allowed me to see the essence of magic, and sure enough, the little fox charm and part of the chain were thick with Bridget’s signature.
“Thanks,” I muttered, pocketing the bracelet and giving Bridget an awkward smile. Yes, she had opened up to me, and yes, I believed her story... but that didn’t make me trust her. “I’ll check it out with my brother, obviously, and I can’t guarantee I’ll ever give it to Kit...”
“Of course,” she gushed, “I just want you to have it, just in case. Anything I can do to help, and you know you can come back here to seek my help any t
ime you want... right?”
Frowning, I nodded tightly. Her personality shift from the stern, authoritarian teacher of the past month to this... simpering little woman, had me off guard. Which was the real her? Was the hard-ass bitch routine just a mask she’d developed after so many hundreds of years alive?
“Right, well, thanks again.” I gave her a small smile, then headed toward the door in order to make my exit from the backyard once more. Regardless of Bridget’s explanations, I really did feel like I’d learned enough from her. Kit had cut herself while attempting to cook dinner a few nights ago, and my fangs hadn’t even dropped.
Admittedly, I’d clenched my fists so tightly my short nails had cut crescent moons into my palms, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, I was getting a handle on things.
A rustling of movement near the hedges caught my attention, and I let my other sight click in so I could see clearer. As well as letting me see magical essence, it also let me see better in the dark. In this case, both were useful.
“Hey!” I called out to the fox, who was most definitely a shifter if the magic surrounding him was any indication. He’d already taken off though, his white-tipped tail disappearing through the dense branches of the hedge. I couldn’t help thinking it was the same fox who’d been lurking around Kit back at CFA.
Bridget made a small noise behind me, pulling my attention, and I glanced around to find her looking... shocked?
“What is it?” I asked her, suspicion riding high in my voice. “Who was that?”
“Hmm?” She raised her brows at me, like she’d suddenly remembered I was still there. “No one. Safe travels.” She slammed the sliding door shut, flicked the lock, and dropped the blind in one smooth move.
Weird, creepy bitch.
I started toward the lawn to portal out back to Kitty Kat, but froze when I heard Bridget’s voice from inside. My other sight was still engaged, and it tended to sharpen my hearing more than the average person’s.
