Page 105 of My Undead Love Life

The door opened behind us a moment later.

“Finally!” Victoria sobbed, walking inside with her arm around her daughter. Frank and Jan went behind them, both glancing at us with visible unease.

We went in last, and Mad locked the door tightly behind us.

Victoria sat Olivia down on the stairs leading to the loft, her hands shaking so badly she could barely steady her. “Stay with me, Olivia. Stay with me,” she kept repeating. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Olivia’s head lolled slightly before she forced it upright. Her breathing was uneven and shallow. She pulled the jacket from where her mother had tied it around her arm and hissed when she saw the bite. The skin around it had already darkened. Angry veins spidered out from the wound, disappearing beneath her sleeve. I knew what that meant.

“The time it takes someone to turn is usually within six hours,” Frank spoke up, voice grim. “So, you have five hours left until we need to put her down.”

“I’m not putting my daughter down!” Victoria screamed, her voice cracking so violently it echoed through the firehouse.

“Mom…” Olivia’s voice trembled. “I don’t…want to be one of them. Please⁠—”

“No.” Victoria grabbed her face, forcing her to look at her. “No, Olivia. I won’t let you turn. Do you hear me? I won’t let it happen.”

“You can’t stop this,” Jan said gently, her voice heavy with pity.

Victoria ignored her.

Oxi stepped forward slowly with a fire blanket clutched tightly in his hands. His face was still pale, but his movements were careful and quiet. Like he was approaching a wounded animal that might bolt if he moved too fast. He knelt in front of Olivia and carefully draped the blanket over her lap, tucking it around her legs.

“Thank—” Victoria stopped abruptly as her eyes lifted to his face. The change in her expression made the room go cold in a way the weather never could. “Owen.”

Everyone froze.

Oxi looked as if his real name had punched straight through his chest. “Mom…” he whispered.

Victoria’s expression twisted into something ugly. “I am not your mother.” Her voice dropped. “I will only ever be Olivia’s mother.”

“Oxi,” I said quickly, grabbing his sleeve on instinct, trying to pull him back.

He didn’t move.

“Oxi?” she repeated, the name dripping with disgust. “You go by Oxi? How pathetic. You’re sick, Owen.”

He pulled free from me and stepped closer to her. “I’m not sick.”

I hated to admit it, but I could see the resemblance between them and him. Olivia had his green eyes. Victoria looked older than I would have imagined, worn down by years of survival and bitterness, but she and Oxi had the same nose, the same sharpness in the cheekbones.

“Mom,” he tried again, quieter this time. “I⁠—”

“Don’t.” Her hand struck his face with a sharp crack that echoed through the room.

I flinched, and my heart cracked at witnessing it.

Oxi didn’t move or even lift a hand to defend himself. I wanted to slap her for laying her hand on Oxi so badly that my palm tingled.

“You killed him,” Victoria hissed, her voice trembling with fury. “You killed your father, and you think you still get to stand here and act like you’re one of us?”

Olivia let out a broken sob. “You haven’t been my brother in a long time, Owen. Why pretend to care about me now?”

He looked at her, and everything in his expression broke. “I⁠—”

“You don’t get to speak!” Victoria snapped, stepping in front of Olivia like a shield. “You lost that right when you poisoned him like a coward.”

“That’s not what happened,” Oxi said, and his voice cracked.