Page 90 of The Child of Rue Royale
“I don’t understand why you’re so surprised. You knew the repercussions of your actions.”
I pull myself to my feet, and she steps away from the door as if I could touch her, hurt her.
“Where’s my baby?”
“We have your mother, and we have him. He’s a spawn of the unnatural, you know that.”
My vision blurs, and my hands curl as if they could wrap around her neck. I slam on the door, kick it, and try to force it open.
She just stares at me, her eyes brazen, her face like stone. Her cruelty was masked by mock affection. Keeping me under her thumb. Taking what she wanted and leaving me with crumbs. She must not know about the potion or she would have said something by now, and I want to accuse her of keeping me poor for so long. Forcing me into this situation.
“And vampires and witches are meant to exist? He’s innocent,” I roar, my hands hovering over my ears, and I’m feeling sick all over again.
I fall to my knees, clasping my hands in front of me. “I am begging you, Violetta. I’m on my knees begging. Don’t hurt my child.”
“You are wasting your air. You will be handled by the coven. Your path is set, and you knew the repercussions of your actions. We will decide what’s to become of the child.
“Bringing Bastian back was a gift, a real gift, and having a son has been the cherry on top. Because you see, now we have a valid and lawful reason to kill you, and we’ll get what we always wanted, the last true witch dead, because your son is an abomination who definitely is not carrying on our lineage. I don’t know what kind of magic you used to create him, but he’s not the next true witch. Therefore, the lineage ends with you, and we maintain power over the coven.”
“Why do you want me dead? What have I ever done to you?”
She tsks, biting her lip, contemplating. “Oh, honestly, because we want our family in control and not yours. When we begged and begged and almost had to force you to get pregnant, we were concerned that you would always be a problem for the coven. Just like your mother. There’s really no room for disobedience in a coven, and your mother made us want to pull our hair out. Then Franklin came and told us that you were having an affair with a vampire, and we knew we couldn’t trust you. And it was the last straw.
“You will be meeting your maker sooner rather than later, and sincerely, I can’t wait. All the whining, all the begging. The refusal to just do your job and have a daughter. Getting rid of you will make all our lives easier.”
“You filthy asshole,” I cry, looking through the glass as her finger strokes her chin, and she laughs.
“I’m the filthy one? Imagine our surprise while on holiday, receiving a picture of you and Bastian walking inside Comey’s. A coven member texted it immediately, unaware of what you had done. ‘I thought he was dead?’ the text said, and so did we. Once we found the AirTag on our car, we knew we had to get home immediately. And upon arrival, our chalice was gone. It all just fell into place. At the blessing ceremony, you told me the father had green eyes. It was hard to believe, but then we knew, we knew what you did. But I want to hear you say it. You brought him back from the dead, didn’t you?”
There’s a ball of fire in the back of my throat, building, threatening to burn my heart. I clutch my chest, the pain like a riptide, drowning me.
“You don’t deny it?” she snorts.
My steely gaze meets hers. “No. I don’t. I brought him back because you took him away from me.”
“A confession. We love a good confession. Who’s the filthy asshole now?”
I bury my head in my hands, it’s all too much to consume at once. The lies, the betrayal, the viciousness. “The Delacroixs won’t do business with you. Your income will stop.”
“Maybe for a year or two. But you’ll become a memory, and they will still need to feed. This isn’t a sprint, this is a marathon. They will be back, and the price will have gone up.”
I laugh scornfully. “You’re a dumb bitch if you believe that.”
But her eyebrows only pull together. “We’ll take our chances. Besides, all the money you’ve handed over has me sitting very pretty, darling.” The edge in her voice shows her true nature. The absolute wickedness that grows in her marrow, the core of who she truly is.
Being forced to have children, forced to hand over my hard-earned money, and left broke with no choice but to take Bastian up on an offer. And now they want me dead, my child dead, and my mother dead.
Why am I here? Why did I do it all? Put myself in this position? And the answer is—all for love. All for Aven and Bastian. Chantal, my mother, and Jade. So we could live a life free of fear.
A rage erupts deep in my throat as I press my face to the glass, my lips so close my breath fogs it.
“I have never killed anyone before, Violetta. I always thought it wasn’t in me. But once my family comes for me, and they will come, I’m going to kill you. And there won’t be a shred of sadness, a drop of regret. Only relief that you can’t torture us another second. It’s my solemn vow that you will pay for everything and anything you put me and my family through.”
She runs her fingers up her hair, making sure the bun is perfectly in place. “What a truly terrifying thought, my dear Aster. I will have to take my chances.”
BRIGHTNESS BURNS THROUGH MY EYELIDS. My head feels like a million bricks have been stacked on top of it. My mouth is parched, my body, aching.
I force my eyes open to meet an overcast sky with no view of the sun. Slamming them shut, I attempt to gather the nausea brewing in my stomach. I’ve been drugged, am still stripped of my powers, and something tight is wrapped around my lower ribcage.
