Page 161 of Illusory

53. THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING

The basement lights flickered riotously above my head as I sailed down the staircase and caught up with Tessa, gaping as she casually dragged our mother’s lifeless body into the makeshift prison cell. Like it was a completely normal thing to be doing at any point in one’s life. Pausing at the center of the cramped space, she dropped Jaqueline’s arms and then stared down at her, catching her breath as she assessed our mother.

“What in the…how did…where…?”

Tessa looked up at me and rolled her eyes. “Pick a question, Jemma.”

“Okay—what in theactual fuckare you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she shot back, holding her arms out as though the whole thing were self-explanatory.

I glanced from her to our incapacitated mother and then back again. “It looks like you’ve lost your damn mind.”

“Me?” she scoffed. “She’s the one who was holed out in some rathole hive on a blood bender with a bunch of ferals. If anyone lost their mind, it’sher,” she said, pointing to our unconscious mother, who looked as though she were fast asleep. Albeit extremely pale and slightly decrepit, but asleep, nonetheless. “Trust me, I’m doing her a favor. She needs to sober the hell up.”

“A blood bender?” I whispered, my breath catching as the guys slowly trickled into the basement to witness our latest Mother-Daughter reunion.

“Ah, another resident for the Blackburn reformatory,” remarked Dominic as he casually inspected my mother. Hetook a sip of his drink, barely flinching a muscle at the scene, as though this was a completely normal thing to be happening. “Nice to see your hard work being put to such good use, angel.”

“Yeah, apparently, we’re all going to get a turn inCell Block B,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “Why would she do this, Tess? This is so out of character for her.”

Granted, Jaqueline wasn’t the model mother by any stretch of the imagination, but she always ran a tight ship and maintained excellent control over herself. Disappearing for days on end on a blood bender just didn’t seem like something she’d do.

“I don’t know, but I’ll be sure to ask her when she comes to.” Tessa grabbed Jaqueline’s arm and turned her around so that she was lying with her head towards the bars. “Alright. Clear out.”

With my arms still crossed tightly over my chest, I trailed behind Dominic out of the cramped cage and joined Trace and Gabriel, who were standing a few feet away, observing from a safe distance.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what they were thinking.

Tessa shut the cell door and locked it, slipping the key into her back pocket. Kneeling, she reached through the bars and wrapped her hand around the wooden stake protruding from our mother’s chest. “You might want to find something else to do,” she warned, adjusting her grip as she scooted in closer. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”

Like hell. “I want to hear what she has to say for herself.”

Tessa met my eyes over her shoulder, her hand still gripping the stake. “She isn’t going to have anything coherent to say until she’s over the bloodlust. The less people we have staring at her, the easier it’ll be to calm her down and get her back to normal.”

I wasn’t particularly interested in making things easier for Jaqueline, and I was about to tell Tessa as much—until I remembered Trace’s bloodlust during those first few days, and how impossible it was to communicate with him. If this was anything like that, Jaqueline wouldn’t be saying anything coherent for a while. The sooner we sobered her up, the sooner we could get answers.

“Fine, but you’d better call me as soon as she’s straight.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” she said with a curt nod. “Now go.”

* * *

Even though it didn’t feel right leaving Tessa to deal with the impending bloodlust-fueled wrath of our mother, I knew my sister was safe with Jackie behind the spelled bars and with Gabriel watching out for her every step of the way. He would be the voice of reason when needed, and he would have my sister’s back no matter what.

And considering that I wanted to ring Jackie’s neck with my bare hands, I probably wasn’t the best person to handle the job of sobering her up. Better to let calmer heads prevail, lest I take her head right off her neck.

“What a fitting end to my birthday,” I mused, snorting at the irony as I pulled a plate of reheated mac and cheese from the microwave, ready to eat my feelings away.

Clearly, my Cinderella birthday had come to an end, as evidenced by the beautiful pink gown already hanging in my closet. Not wanting it to get ruined, I decided it was probably best to change out of it and get back into my jeans—just in case all hell broke loose with Jaqueline.

“Hey, at least she showed up,” offered Trace as he watched me flick my fork around the plate, waiting for it to cool down enough to stuff into my mouth.

“Right.” I deadpanned. “Because Tessa dragging her incapacitated body back here definitely constitutes as ‘showing up’ for me.”

Trace grimaced but didn’t argue that point. Because how could he?

“I’m sure she has a good reason for her absence,” offered Dominic, pulling out the container of iced tea and pouring me a glass. “Best to let her sober up and explain herself.”

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