Page 3 of Blood Taken (Blood Mafia 2)
Her face pinches in frustration, and she narrows her eyes. "I am your mother, you will not—"
"I will do whatever I damn well please. You gave up the right to pull the mother card. You are not my parent, and even if you were, I'm a grown ass woman."
She seethes, her chest rising and falling as she tries to control her breathing. Could it be she's on the verge of losing her shit?
Well, welcome to the club, bitch.
We're all a little mad here.
"Demi," Ms. Hammon begins, but I raise my other hand, stopping her voice of reason bullshit.
I know this game. She's here to play peacekeeper while my mother makes some half-assed attempt to make amends.
"I don't know what to think of you yet, but you won't speak to me. I'm not having this conversation and you're only holding me up. If you haven't been able to tell by now, I don't want to talk to either of you."
My mother is standing in the way, so I knock my shoulder into hers as I pass, heading to the bedroom.
Studiously ignoring them, I grab a backpack from my closet and pack a few changes of clothes, some shoes, and my travel toiletry kit. I try not to let them see how much their presence affects me.
In reality, I'm freaking out. I have no idea how to handle this situation, and I sure as shit don't need another bomb dropped in my lap.
"Demi," Ms. Hammon's voice is soft when she says my name. "Can you please let me explain before you rush off to wherever it is you're going?"
I scoff and zip the black backpack up, using my legs to smash everything inside so it'll completely close. I may have over-packed, but give me a break. This is my first time running away from the mafia.
Next time I'll pack more efficiently.
Placing the straps over my shoulders, I pull them tighter so the bag sits slightly higher. "No offense, but I don't give a shit what you have to say."
What can they offer me? I'm an adult, I don't need a mommy.
My egg donor holds out her hand to Ms. Hammon, who is grimacing. She takes out a small envelope from her back pocket and gives it to my mother.
I roll my eyes and leave the bedroom.
"You can't escape the vampires on your own," my mother calls after me.
Stiffening, I stop walking and scowl at her over my shoulder. "Have you been following me?"
She pulls out folded papers and straightens them before gesturing for me to take the small stack. I squint at her, still wary of her in general, but step forward and grab them.
They're pictures of me. Pages and pages of my face. From elementary, middle school, high school, college, and most recently, me at dinner with Mateo. The last picture is of me with my mouth firmly pressed to Mateo's bleeding wrist. He's entirely focused on me, and if I didn't know the bastard, I'd say the look is almost affectionate.
I rifle through them again, scrunching my face as rage sweeps over me. "This whole time I thought you left me for good. What are these supposed to prove?" I shake the papers in my hand and throw them on the ground. "All this means is you were here, but didn't have enough spine to raise me yourself."
"I left to keep you safe."
"Sure you did, Mother. Do you know what it's like to be a small child and lose both your parents? When Dad died, I needed you most. You. Left. Me."
Her eyebrows press together, and her eyes fill with shame. She looks at the papers on the floor, opening and closing her mouth.
"What?" I ask. "What could you possibly have to say that will make what you did okay?"
Ms. Hammon places her hand on my mother's shoulder. "It's okay, Maria."
Well, at least now I have a better name for her than mother.
"Demetria," Ms. Hammon begins in her voice of authority, the one I recognize from all of my history classes with her. "You are a Hunter. We—" She gestures between herself and Maria. "Are Hunters."
