Page 148 of You’re So Vein

She shrugs. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve got a tonne of them lying around. You won’t miss this one.”

I step in front of her as the Hierophant raises his staff. I can’t believe Komal did that. I never would have considered it, but it worked. She broke the ritual. She damaged the altar and set Hannah free of its spell.

She’s unhinged.

And I love her.

It dawns on me as I watch her lift Hannah down and wrap her in her arms that I’ve been a fool. I never should have betrayed her. I should have trusted that no matter what the world threw at us, it would be no match for Komal Ahuja. All this time, we could have been together, a family, figuring this out.

Instead, I ran, and I hid, and I pushed away the only person who wants to protect Hannah as much as me.

It’s too late for Komal and me now. I’ve broken what we had. I’ll have the rest of my long existence to regret that.

But it’s not too late for Hannah.

My darling girl buries her face in Komal’s neck. Komal shoots daggers at the Hierophant and the priests. “Shame on you,” she says. “Shame on all of you. I don’t give a flying fuck about your laws and myths. I don’t care how many Dhampir slaughtered how many Upyr a gazillion years ago. Hannah is a child. She’s innocent, and she’s alive now. And like it or not, she’s one of you. She was born right here, in your court, and she should be under your protection. You don’t get to experiment on her. Your duty is to protect her.

“If you’re so concerned about gathering information, why haven’t you simply asked the man who has raised her for ten years? Augustin has notebooks filled with observations about her. He can tell you that she is sweet, and kind, and creative, and she doesn’t want to hurt humans or vampires. I’m not like you. I don’t have your healing abilities or long life, and you might ask yourself how I can stand to be so close to her, knowing she could be a danger to me. And I say that if you knew this child, you’d never want to leave her side. I say she is no danger. And I can prove it.”

Before I can move to stop her, Komal drags her arm down a jagged piece of stone. She winces as a long cut opens, blood welling to the surface.

What have you done?

The priests step back as the bright, bold plum and iron scent of Komal’s blood perfumes the air.

Komal looks to Hannah, her lips twisting as she fights to maintain control. I find myself leaning forward, remembering when Komal cut herself on the bush and Hannah pounced on her. If she does that now, we’re all dead.

Hannah’s lip wobbles. She stares at the blood welling from Komal’s arm, and grips her tighter. I hold my breath.

The priests lean forward, too.

My daughter turns her head away. She sobs into Komal’s shoulder, her whole body shaking. But she doesn’t break.

“See?” Komal wipes her arm on her flight jacket. “Hannah has hunger, just like all of you. But she can control it. And she’s only a kid, who’s had to do this alone, with just her dad looking out for her. Well, until now. Now she has me, as well.”

“But you’re a human.” Irene frowns. “What good are you to this Dhampir?”

“I want to be a vampire,” Komal says. “I’d happily take the Kiss right here, right now. But that’s not my point. The point is that Hannah is loved, and wanted, and not dangerous. And you know now that the Ordo Exsecrati have been demonising Dhampir for centuries. You pride yourself on being the voice of intelligence, Irene. And the rest of you claim that your magic is for the good of all vampires. So I ask you, what is good for Hannah? Because it sure isn’t this.”

This woman.

This bold, remarkable, insane woman.

I’ve made a terrible mistake.

“You claim she’s not a danger?” A priestess near the back fixes her azure gaze on Komal. “I see it in my third eye – she bit you once before.”

“What child hasn’t lost control?” Komal says. “You force Hannah to hide away, isolated from humans, and then punish her for not knowing how to manage her hunger. You say everything good about her is void because she might accidentally bite someone. Isn’t that called ‘being a vampire’? How is it different? Dhampir should be managed with kindness, with education, with whimsy, not with cruelty and death.”

“What did John and Dulcina Durant say about you raising this Dhampir?” the priestess asks. I recognise her as Etta – a friend of my father from his time as a priest. “I remember John has divisive views on human relations—”

“John and Dulcina are dead. They’ve been dead ten years.”

The room fizzes with energy. Vampires rarely die, especially ancient, powerful Dusk Court vampires. Tense silence drips from the walls as the gathered priests consider the consequences of their magic lost forever.

The Hierophant leans forward. “You will explain,” he growls.

So I do.