Page 39 of Wicked Ties
“I wanted nothing more than your mother, but she didn’t give me the time of day.” He glanced at her, and she pursed her lips but said nothing. “I was young, stupid, and naïve. I thought one love spell would get her to see me and love me the way I loved her. So, I went to the Crone.”
Stupid fucking moron.
“I begged her for the love of Alba, and she gave it to me—”
“—For a price,” I interrupted.
He nodded. “For a price. So, I signed a contract. I thought it was servitude. Protection. I was at the top of my class of warriors. I didn’t read it. I just signed and got your mother. She loved me for a time . . . until we had you.”
My mother growled. “Yes, and then the illusion of who he was broke along with the spell the Crone used on me.”
“Am I telling it, or are you?” my father snapped back at her.
“By all means, tell our son how YOU ruined our lives, and then I’ll tell him how I fixed it.”
“Alba, please.” He slammed is fist down on the table. “Nineteen years I’ve lived with this. It weighs on me every day like a knife in my chest.”
My mother motioned to me. “Tell him the rest. Tell him the price you were meant to pay.”
“It wasn’t protection she wanted. It was you.” He lowered his eyes to the floor. “The deal was the love of Alba, for a time, in exchange for you and your powers.”
I staggered back from him, and suddenly Tilly was beside me.
She didn’t touch me or hold me up, but she was there, strong and sure of herself. “You sold him!?”
“I didn’t know! I couldn’t read part of the contract. It was in a different language and all I thought about was your mother. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have signed it if I had known.” It was the first time I’d ever heard my father plead for anything.
He’d always been messed up, troubled in some way, sad, lonely, and depressed. If I signed away my son’s life I might live in a constant state of regret too. But I’d never seen regret in him before. Only total and complete unhappiness. He hung his head. “It was the biggest mistake of my life.”
I cleared my throat. “So, when do you . . . when do you turn me over to her?”
“We don’t.” My mother moved over to a table and hopped up, joining our little circle.
“Explain.” Somehow my father signed over my life and my mother didn’t? This shit wasn’t making any sense.
“There is a second contract.” She chuckled. “It voids her claim on you.”
Grayson clapped his hands. “The plot thickens. Bloody mortals do entertain well.”
“Shut up!” everyone yelled at the same time.
“Mom, how is it void now?” This I had to hear. How did one get out of a binding contract with the Crone? I’ve never known anyone to do something like that . . . ever.
“The second contract voids the first one so long as we serve her purposes.” My mother waggled her eyebrows at me. “Pretty good, no?”
It was too good to be true. There was a catch. “For how long?”
The smile dropped from her face, and she shrugged. “A time.”
“How vague of you.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “How long?”
She cleared her throat. “A lifetime.”
“WHAT?” The air left my lungs in a rush. My parents, who’d been absent most of my life, who’d packed me off when I was young, signed up for a lifetime of servitude just to protect me. I had to let that sink in for a moment. All my life, I thought they abandoned me, left me to the warlocks, and they’d just been trying to save me from mistakes that were made by a naïve young guy.
“The Circus of Freaks draws in attention for her. She gets power from it. We keep it going and she keeps on living. Without touching you.” My mother shrugged. “It was all we could do. But if you attack her, it voids the contract with her, and . . . you will be hers.”
“How can you,” Tilly pointed at my father, “sign him over? I don’t get it. How do you have that right?”
