This time, I do resist rolling my eyes, but only barely.
“All right, Mama,” I say. “If I happen to see her, I’ll stay away.”
“And you’ll tell me immediately.”
I arch an eyebrow, as if to say,obviously.
“Good. Enough about that horrid woman.” Mama swishes her wrist, as if flicking Secora Reed away. “Tell me about thesurgery.”
It’sover an hour before I stand to leave Mama’s office. I’d only planned to stop for a short chat, but time got away from us. It’s rare we go this long without being disrupted by Vera for one reason or another.
“You’ll be at the council meeting?” Mama asks as I pull on my coat. She rises too, crossing to stand before me. “I think it’d be nice for you to?—”
“It’s not a good fit,” I interrupt.
Mama flinches, just like she does every time I tell her. I wish I had an ounce of her passion for politics, but I don’t. Ever since I was a kid, my mind has been fascinated by the biological. I can’t fathom sitting in an office like this. I don’t belong in meeting halls or on stages. I belong at the healing center, undoing nasty curses and healing wounds.
Notcausingthem.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I ask. I pull her into a hug, if only so I don’t have to see that stricken, disappointed look on her face. I keep telling myself she’ll get over my refusal to join the council, but it’s been years now. Maybe this will always be an awkward divide between us.
“Of course,” she says. “You can come over for dinner. I’ll make your favorite. You really are getting too thin.”
“I promise I’m eating, Mama,” I say, chuckling.
She laughs too, pulling back to look at me. She says something, but I don’t process it. I’m too busy staring at her wrist. The yellow fabric of her long-sleeved shirt has fallen toward her elbow, exposing dull grey skin.
I’ve been a healer my entire adult life, and I’m a damnedgood one. I specialize in the rare, in the difficult, in the deadly. And still, I’ve never seen anything quite like this.
Mama tracks my stare and attempts to step away, but I don’t let her.
“What in the Mother is that?” I demand.
I grab Mama’s arm, shoving the fabric fully past her elbow. Pale grey skin stretches from just above her wrist, all the way up her arm, disappearing beneath her shirt. Despite knowing better, despite the possibility this could be infectious, I touch her forearm. Her skin is brittle and rough, like ancient parchment. No, rougher, like crushed eggshells.
I expect Mama to deflect. To get angry. To tell me it’s none of my concern and to leave her be.
Instead, her shoulders deflate. When I look up from her arm, there are tears in her eyes.
“I was going to tell you,” she says, voice cracking.
“Tell mewhat, exactly?” I can’t keep the horror from my voice.
It looks like my mother is dying, like this part of her might alreadybedead.
“It started with the girl’s death,” she whispers. She pulls her hand away, tugging the sleeve back into place. “Ever since the Pruce descendant died and became a vampire, it started happening.”
“Where?” I ask. I’m mentally tracking the days. Sebastian turned Grace Pruce into a vampire a month ago. An entiremonthago. Part of me wants to berate her for neglecting to tell me. I will, someday, but not right now. Not when I’m already a month behind whatever the hells is happening to her.
“My chest,” Mama says. She rests her hand over her heart, closing her eyes. “Right here. Then down. Then my arms. My legs are the newest?—”
“The woman’s cell was warded,” I interrupt. My thoughts arewhirring too quickly, and my mind isn’t processing this as fast as I need it to. There has to be an explanation. Once we have it, I’ll figure out the solution. “Maybe when she died, some part of the ward latched onto you. Or maybe?—”
“No,” Mama says. The word is final, and I realize she already knows. She knows what’s wrong and shestilldidn’t tell me.
“Tell me,” I say. I’m close to falling on my knees in front of her, terrified she’ll deny me. “I can fix it, Mama. I’ll fix it.”
“You can’t,” she says. A lone tear escapes, tracking down her cheek. “It’s the sun curse, Elliot. The Mother is punishing me for my part in it.”
