Page 63 of Raven

"I didn't do this on purpose."

"No. You did this because you didn't think. I told you about that girl. I told you not to see her, and now look. You've ruined your life."

Her words cut deep, but I pushed back. "I haven't. This is ... It's a baby, Mum. You had me at fourteen."

"Yes, and do you think that was a good idea?"

"You managed alright. We're here. We're okay." I moved forward, concern overriding my frustration. "You need to rest."

My mother had got to her feet, shaky but determined. She started to pull out the IVs from her hand.

"What are you doing? You can't go home. This is stupid.”

She pushed me away, her touch rough and dismissive. "You've done enough, don't you think?" She brushed me off like I carried some disease she might catch. "How far along is she?"

"I don't know. Not long. That's why we can mate and no one will figure it out."

Her eyes narrowed, a cold calculation replacing the anger. "Or you can get it fixed."

I knew what she meant—a "preventative execution." The very thought made me sick. "No," I said, my voice firm for the first time. "That's not an option."

My mother's face hardened. "We need to talk to Malcolm. Maybe he can arrange something, make this ... problem go away."

I stepped between her and the door. "Mum, you're not thinking straight. You're hurt, you're angry. But this is my child we're talking about."

She glared at me, swaying slightly on her feet. "Move, Raven.”

“No. I won’t let you. You need to rest.”

Her panther growled, right below the surface. She flashed behind her eyes. “I said move. We're going home, and we're going to fix this mess you've created and hope that you didn’t just throw your entire fucking life away."

TWENTY-SEVEN

One of the women from Sian's gave us a lift home. I wished it'd been Sue. She would’ve taken us straight to the door; she knew where we lived, had been there countless times. But Athena, while she'd worked with my mother a while, hadn't earnt that level of trust yet. I often wondered if we started over, would Sue even get as close as she had? Maybe not.

Sue was busy with a client and we couldn't drag her out. Not when a client often meant the difference between clothes on their backs and nothing. Poverty was a shaky line to walk. Sometimes it was downright tiresome.

"Here is fine," my mother said when we were just over three blocks away from our place.

"Here? You live here?" Athena was glancing out of the window, eyeing the large tenement building.

"We live in a place around the back," my mother lied smoothly.

I leant forward from the back seat. My mother had insisted on getting in the front. "No. We live three blocks from here. Mother, this is a heck of a walk."

She shot me a glance in the mirror. Maybe Athena did know my mother enough not to say anything, because she gave me a sad smile as my mother hauled herself out of the car.

I sighed. "Thanks for the ride." I patted Athena on the shoulder and got out after my mother.

My mother was limping, her gait low and so clearly in pain. "We can get back in the car, Athena can--"

Athena gave my mother a worried look. "You take care. You don't have to come in tomorrow. We can cover if you're not right."

"I'll be fine," my mother shot back, her voice a mix of steel and gravel. "Some sleep and I'll be back on my feet. No humans in this world are going to ruin my days."

I wanted to help my mother and I hovered uselessly behind her, ready if she needed to lean on me. Of course, she didn't and she wouldn't even if she had needed it. Instead, she walked away, each step a battle against her own body.

I stood still, watching her as she limped ahead. The pain radiated off her. She wasn't blocking that from me. Pain wasn't like emotions. I could feel pain too. It was more like aches in my joints, like the delayed pain that hits two days after a tough workout. With my mother, it practically rode through my body. More like having a cold and that kind of ache with her. She must've been in some serious pain.

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