Chapter 34
The scent of blood trailed me as I continued my path, careful to step over the scattered bodies I passed along the way. All nameless faces, but they had died trying to protect Calia, and I would avenge their deaths if I could.
I never thought of myself as the type to do such a thing. My mother would have never allowed it, and she decimated any hope I had of living a life on the right side of a moral compass. I killed my first man as a young, gangly boy of barely twenty. I do not remember what he had done or if he had even committed a crime at all.
But I remember my mother’s cruel voice whispering that if I refused to dole out his punishment, she would inflict it tenfold upon me. With a shaking hand, I had raised my blade and slit the man’s throat. Her lesson had not ended there. She then forced me to watch as he struggled to cling to life, as he fought to stop the rush of blood escaping his wound.
For days, she had starved me, keeping me on the edge of desperation for that very moment. I could not help myself as I launched myself toward him. My fangs tore into the gaping flesh further, seeking the sustenance I had been denied. He clawed at my back, each swipe slower than the last until his arms hung limply at his side and his blood tasted foul and rotten.
Each death had been a reminder of what my mother could do, of the power she still held over me. She knew when it came to protecting Calia, I would gladly sell whatever remained of my soul, even if it damned me in the process. In fact, she was betting on that.
A single door came into view at the end of the hallway. Two bodies sat on either side, both with gunshot wounds to the head. Brain matter stained the wall, but at least their deaths had been quick.
I did not think as I kicked the door, sending it flying across the room. The force of the impact radiated up my body, and as I stepped inside, I tried not to dwell on the possibility that I was not strong enough to win this fight.
Calia lay on the ground, a crimson stain running from a gash on her lower lip. Her green eyes were filled with fury and terror, but I swore I saw something akin to relief as her shoulders sagged at my arrival. My mother stood above her, pointing a gun at my wife’s head.
Leonora looked perfectly polished despite the trail of death she left in her wake. Her blonde hair was tied up in a tight bun at the back of her neck, and there was not a speck of blood on her. Despite her typically uptight appearance, the jeans and t-shirt she wore made her look almost normal—a regular lady with a regular life. Her eyes betrayed the truth, glinting with icy malice.
Jasper, Sloane, and Elios were lined up against the wall, stripped of their weapons. The witch clung to my friend desperately as he held her close to his side. Despite a few cuts and bruises on them, they looked otherwise unharmed.
Ballard was noticeably absent, something I did not have an opportunity to dwell on before my mother spoke.
“Son,” she said with cruel amusement that made my skin crawl. “How wonderful of you to join us! I was saddened when they told me you had not decided to come along. But I knew you could not resist— I told them as much. I’m glad to see I was not wrong.”
I slid my hand in the pocket of my jeans. “How could I miss the opportunity to rip your head from your shoulders, Mother? I am nothing if not opportunistic.”
She tutted. “You think you are so ruthless, but do not forget… I was the one who made you this way. And I am just as capable of unmaking it.” She looked down at Calia, who returned her gaze with equal ire. “All it would take is for me to threaten to put a bullet in her pretty, little head.”
I cocked my head. “Why would you think she holds any sway over me?” I asked, hating each word as it slipped off my tongue. The lie was a gamble, but if I could make her believe Calia did not matter to to me, I could remove her from the situation. “She means nothing?—”
“You are such a pathetic liar,” my mother drawled, narrowing her eyes. “I saw the way you looked the night she leaped from your office window. You were beside yourself, lost to grief and your anger. Jasper, the stupid boy, tried to break through your haze to no avail.”
I did not dare to look at Calia, though I desperately wanted to. “So, what is your plan, Mother? You have us gathered,” I said, gesturing at the room. “What now?”
“What is the rush, Rion? You have spent all this time and effort searching for me, only to wish for it to end?” She ran the gun barrel along Calia’s jaw in a gentle caress. “Have you not missed your dear mother?”
I tracked her movements, watching for any sign her finger might go to the trigger. It would be too soon to kill Calia, but she could incapacitate her in the blink of an eye. “Rolling in shit would be more pleasurable than your company,” I said dryly. “And now you are wasting my time.”
My mother looked around the room, smiling as though she had already won some grand prize. She basked in her own premature glory. “Did you know I have been dreaming of this moment for centuries? I was only a child when my family sold me to your father. They told me it was for my own good, that my betrothal to the D’Arcy heir would secure our place in the aristocracy , ensure our debts were paid.” She scoffed, disgust twisting her features. “He was a selfish, gambling drunk who made himself a fool in the eyes of everyone who mattered, and my mother was no better.”
“I see the rotten apple didn’t fall far from the tree, then,” Jasper retorted, earning a scathing glance from Leonora.
“My wedding day was the happiest of their lives, and I ensured it was also their last,” she sneered.
“What is the point of this story, Mother?” I asked, feigning a yawn. My head began to pound, and I could not tell if it was from the earlier effects of the spell or from listening to her wicked velvet voice. “Because from where I am standing, none of this pertains to you holding a fucking gun to my wife’s temple.”
“Because I want you to understand, you ungrateful boy. I want you to realize that everything I have done has been for you.”
“Bullshit,” I snapped, taking a step forward. I was done listening to her fabrications. “Everything you have ever done has been for you.”
She held out one hand and shook the gun slightly for emphasis. “One more step, and I will blow her brains out.”
“You need both of us alive and willing to break the curse, so no, Mother, I do not think you will.” I strolled forward, calling her bluff. Calia’s eyes grew wide, but I hoped she could trust me enough to know I would not do anything I knew would get her killed.
But as I closed in on my mother, a blinding pain shot through my head, sending me to my knees. I could not breathe, I could not think, as I hit the stone floor. The impact reverberated through my body like a sledgehammer against concrete.
“Rion!” Calia cried out, but Leonora grabbed her hair and tugged her back.
Jasper collapsed next, clutching his head and screaming out in pain. Sloane knelt beside him, her eyes filled with worry as she screamed his name over and over. Elios’ hand hovered over Jasper’s back, lips moving too fast to discern what he was saying.
“What have you done?” I asked, baring my teeth as I looked up at my mother’s wicked visage. I searched for any hint of kindness, of the woman I wanted to believe she could have been but saw nothing but cunning cruelty.
She leaned forward. “I would have thought you figured it out by now. It seemed somewhat reckless of me at first. Your uncle certainly deemed it so, but I had little choice.”
“Get on with it,” I bit out.
Footsteps sounded behind me, and it took everything I had to turn and look at the figure emerging from the darkness. For a moment, the pain abated. It was a courtesy, I realized, as Ballard’s haunted eyes stared back at me.