Page 104 of Savage Sacrifice
Her nose crinkles in disgust as she looks at me. “You’re so gross.”
“You could be sitting on stains right now,” I press, observing her eyebrows knitting tightly as she attempts to take a calming breath.
“How did I raise you?” she mutters, at a loss, and our eyes lock, amusement quickly dancing between us as we speak in unison.
“Dad.”
“You definitely have his genes, alright,” she adds, the curl of her lips as sweet as ever when she talks about her devoted.
I should have expected this: her showing up unannounced once she met Polaris. It’s really a predictable Beatrice move, but deep down, I love her for it. Although she ruins my whole energy, growing up as a vampire in a dog-eat-dog world, where your parents love each other so much it’s sickening, really leaves you struggling to decide who you are.
My father was a slaughterer during the day and a loving husband and father at night. Maybe that saying should be reversed; after all, he was a night stalker. But where does that leave me? As the only child of loving parents? I’m supposed to be a deadly vampire.
I do a much better job of it when they’re not around. I remember who I am, what I’m capable of, and what I should stand for. When my mother is nearby and I catch a glimpse of their love, it softens me.
Folding my arms behind my head, I cast a pointed look in her direction. “Why are you here?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Want to guess why?” The look she gives me in response surpasses mine, and I sigh, glancing up at the ceiling as I clear my throat.
“Because your son has a devoted, one he didn’t tell you about because she’s a witch from Florentine’s and he knew his father would be disappointed.”
My words linger in the air for a moment, and although I can sense her gaze on me, I don’t dare look. “Are you referring to the same man we just discussed? The one you get your crudeness from?” she clarifies, and I roll my eyes.
“You know what I mean,” I grumble, glancing in her direction to find her lips pursed and confusion clouding her gaze.
“I actually don’t.”
“Then you wouldn’t understand,” I insist, and she folds her arms over her chest.
“Try me.”
I hate it when she says those two words. Try. Me. I already know she’s going to prove me wrong and confirm that my silence and avoidance of them has been for nothing.
“I know my father protects the vampires every night, so confessing my devoted is from another faction didn’t feel wise,” I admit, and her lips draw into a sad, almost disappointed smile.
“Who is my best friend?”
My eyebrows gather in confusion at her question, but I indulge her with the answer we both know. “Kristy.”
“Who is Kristy?” she asks, and my eyes widen at her.
“Your best friend, we just said that,” I grumble, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“Duh. Butwhatis she?” she presses, and I stare at her, bewildered.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“She’s a witch, Blaze.”
My jaw falls slack as I stare at her. “A witch?” I repeat, and if I thought she was looking at me like I was stupid before, she definitely is now.
“How long has she been my best friend, Blaze?”
“Since you attended Trinity Falls.”
“Do you know how I met her?” she asks, and I shake my head. “She was your father’s friend first.”
Oh.
