It is possible?
She gives everything away. Familiars worked to get close to the vampires, but none were under the delusion they could be changed. But Marisela dropped her façade and she can’t hide the truth.
My father knew he could be changed into one of them.
Holy witchtits.
Knots tighten in my belly.
“But your father was too useful to the King to be turned,” she goes on in a disgusted tone. “He was the bridge to the human world and brought more obedient, willing familiars, more fresh blood to our lands than had ever been accomplished before. It’s what made him truly valuable.” Her face darkens. “It’s also what made your father so angry. He’d made himself indispensable in such a way he could never become one of us. And he took it out onme.”
I scoff. “Even if what you are saying is true, the idea he could hurt you is laughable.”
Marisela is a vampire. He was a human. The power dynamic she’s describing doesn’t make sense.
Her face turns to stone with a seriousness I’ve never seen her exhibit before. Something else flickers underneath it and I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Fear.
“You think the only way to hurt someone is by biting them? You think he was disarmed because he didn’t possess fangs? You couldn’t be more wrong. The man could charm a snake out of its skin one moment, but then he’d fly into such a rage the next. The countless times he’d grab the nearest heavy object and take his fury out on me. . .” she trails off, as if drawn back into some horrific memory.
“You’re a vampire,” I reiterate, unable to indulge in her bullshit for even a moment. If she is going to lie, it should at least be a good one. Knowing what a nefarious schemer she is, I at least expect better on this front.
Marisela doesn’t speak for a moment. “I am. And even the vampires know better than to invoke the thrall of the King. You displease his favorite familiar and it brings the wrath of King Charming, himself. I may have been physically stronger than your father, but I’m no match for our King. So I showed my strength by dragging myself off the floor, riddled in burn marks from those nasty cigarillos, bloodied and broken from the lamp he shattered over my head, from the dresser he’d push onto my body, drink some blood, heal, and pretend it never happened.”
My teeth clench, the skin on my jaw threatening to snap. This conniving bitch. How dare she spew such bullshit from her mouth when she is the real monster. This is… this is all ridiculous.
My father would never. He was good. Unlike her. She’s fucking delusional.
Every working cell in my body freezes as realization slams into me.
“You killed him.”
My stepmother licks one fang, not blinking. “Can’t say I had that particular pleasure, though I did have my suspicions someone else might have put an end to his miserable existence. And to be frank, I’d gladly cheer to their chalice of blood if I knew whoever it was.”
That’s it. I’m going to show her the wrath of a human. The way she callously makes up these lies about my dad who did nothing but serve this kingdom and give her what she wants.
My blood boils at the audacity of her words. How dare she slander my father's name, the man who had given everything for this kingdom and for her?
Without thinking, I lunge at her with murderous rage.
A strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me back.
Kaison. His dark eyes are filled with concern and confusion.
“Cinder, what is going on?” His deep voice reverberates around me, causing me to take a hesitant step back. He stares back at me with an expression of confusion and detachment as if I'm a stranger to him.
He doesn’t know me.
Maybe I don’t even know me.
I wrench my wrist from his and turn and run, run like my life depends on it.
Tears blur my vision as I run from something that’s dug its way under my skin. Her lies are enough to drop a seed under my skin, and it sprouts tiny little leaves.
No. No, my father was my everything. He was a good man.
A memory ignites. He had grabbed paint buckets and flung them at the art I’d thought was so pretty. His curses would flow in violent streams of Korean as he lashed out at the source of his frustration.
