Chapter 16
Risa
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“Wait, wouldn't thatmean they wouldn’t really need me? They could sell their blood, since one of them would have to be an inco-“ I pause as it hits me, sinking further into my chair at the dining room table “No.”
Turning my pleading gaze to Rosalie, she simply looks at me with pity. “They probably found you when you were really young, before you'd remember. Likely kidnapped you or something happened to your parents and they just got lucky. But while incorruptibles are beyond rare, every story I’ve ever heard makes it out to be an inherited gene.”
My voice cracks as I start to splinter apart. “Then why make me sick?”
Rosalie purses her lips. “I'd think it'd make your blood more potent since it was constantly building up a tolerance to things and working to combat what was keeping you sick; hence why they had to switch up what they were using frequently enough that they were growing desperate when you overheard them. If each hit packed more of a punch, it’d be more valuable and get people addicted to it faster, ensuring repeat customers that would keep paying whatever price they asked for a vial.”
Reaching across the table, she covers my balled up fist with her hand. “Some humans can't be turned and the change doesn't take at all. For incorruptibles, it partially does, giving you heightened senses, but also enhancing your blood to new levels. It’s why they’re so rare; you wouldn’t find them until trying to change one. I'd bet anything that's why your blood didn't drive these three crazy at the scene of the accident. It drew them to you, sure, but didn't drive them mad with bloodlust; the change must have amplified it. I imagine that the people harvesting your blood as a child wouldn’t have been aware of that possibility or they would have tried to turn you themselves, using the sire bond to keep control of you.”
My stomach turns. “You think they were shifters?” I free my hand from hers, scrubbing it over my face and groaning. “Of course they were shifters. How else would they have the contacts to sell my blood?” Threading my fingers into my hair, I clench my fist, using the sharp pain on my scalp to keep from completely falling apart. “How do you know all of this if it isn’t common knowledge? It didn’t even cross these three’s minds, and my parents were using me and didn’t think to change me.”
Rosalie sighs, slumping in her chair. “I’m older than dirt, child. With age comes the awareness that shifters are just as bad as humans in wanting to dismiss the things that they don’t understand as myths. We convinced them that we were nothing more than fiction, and at the same time, can’t seem to accept that all stories spring from a grain of truth.”
Blinking back tears, I release my hair, slipping my hands under my thighs on the chair and taking slow breaths. Of everything that I’ve been through this past month, this is hitting me harder than any other revelation. The change I could get through because I hadthem,but right now, surrounded by people looking at me with fear and pity, I’ve never felt more hopelessly alone.
“Shh, hey, it’s alright,” Bane states from my left, rubbing a hand reassuringly over my back.
“None of this is alright.” I glare up at the ceiling so I don’t need to face them, seeking either patience or answers, but only finding faded, white paint. “Does that mean Blake’s a shifter too? Is that why he was so controlling?” I dismiss the idea the second it’s out of my mouth. “No, he never bit me. He was just a narcissistic asshole.”
I huff a humorless laugh. “And yet he was the thing that kept me off of my parents’ radar. Talk about the lesser of two evils. I should probably consider it a blessing in disguise, but,” I trail off, wanting to rant for the next hour as much as I want to shut up, crawl in a hole, and sleep for a year.
Mason’s voice is laced with a pissed off, defensive edge that has me instinctively gravitating closer to him on my right. “You don’t have to be grateful for shit,” he snaps. “I’m with Stryker on this one. I’m not spending the rest of our lives on the run, constantly looking over our shoulders.”
He waits until I meet his eye so that he can see the most infinitesimal reaction I might have to his words, always assessing, worrying. “I think it’s time to figure out a story for your miraculous return. We won’t be able to kill that prick the second you reappear or everyone will suspect you, but even if he doesn’t know what you are, we’re not taking any chances.”
“Besides,” Stryker adds from next to Bane, wiggling in his seat like he can barely contain his enthusiasm. “It’ll be so much fun. As much as I want to put your parents down, I’m looking forward to this one the most. It’s like an early birthday present.”
A small, tired smile twitches at the corner of my lips. “You’re way too excited about this.”
He shrugs. “Being upset won’t change our circumstances, so might as well find the joy wherever we can. And there are very few things that would make me happier than avenging you.”
Tucking my hair behind my ear, the small smile turns into a genuine one, some of the oppressive weight lifting from my shoulders. “Then I guess we better start planning.”
***
“That’s the last ofit.” Bane huffs, dropping several bags on the living room floor of the rental house.
None of us have any interest in living here indefinitely, but an apartment felt like it was asking for trouble with what we’re here to do. Too many potential eyes watching our movements, and honestly, I don’t think any of us would make it a week with our sanity intact. Between the scents and sounds, we’d have to completely suppress our heightened senses to be able to sleep, and seeing as we’re expecting my not-parents to attempt to abduct me, none of us are willing to let our guard down for that long.
