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“I’ll get some coffee, give you two your privacy,” he says, throwing on his white shirt and slipping out of the room so fast that neither of us can say anything.
“Oh my baby,” she says to me, still holding tight. I feel her tears on my neck. “How are you? Has he hurt you?”
“Mom,” I tell her, pulling back, stronger than she’s used to. Her arms drop away. I hold her by the shoulders. “I’m fine. I really am. He hasn’t hurt me, he never would.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t even know how you can stand to be in the same room as that thing.”
“He is not a thing,” I say sharply. “He is mine.”
Even if he doesn’t know it yet.
She stares at me, eyes glistening as she looks me over. “You’ve changed so much, sweetie. You’re…you were always so beautiful, but now you’re…you’re one of them.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“It means you’re beyond beautiful, sweetie. Out of this world.” She takes in a deep, shaky breath, putting her hand to my cheek for a moment, then quickly taking it away when she feels how cold I am. “It suits you.”
“You didn’t bring your slayer blade, did you?” I ask, suddenly struck with the thought.
“No. Solon told me not to.”
“He was right. You’d probably try to kill him again.”
She sighs, placing her hands in her face for a moment. “No. I don’t want to kill him, I swore I wouldn’t.”
“That’s what you said last time when you had your little arrangement. Remember? You killed my parents and he gave you their whereabouts.”
She swallows audibly. “I know…I don’t like it, I hate it, and I hate him, but I know you need him. You need him more than you need us. We can’t protect you anymore. We heard about what happened with Atlas.”
Then my mother starts t
alking about Elle and how she’s still listed as missing and I start crying all over again because the pain is still so fresh and real, as is the guilt, this big dark anvil inside me.
Eventually I dry off my tears and then slip into some of the clothes she brought, a pair of striped wide-leg pants with an elastic waist and a crop top, not exactly my style anymore, but it’s better than a towel.
Then Solon is knocking at the door and he comes in holding two coffees. He hands one to my mother first. “For you,” he says.
She gives him the once-over, her skin visibly prickling at being so close to him. She snatches it from him and takes a few steps back. “Thank you,” she says coldly.
Then he hands me my coffee, giving me a smile that makes my heart sing. “And for you, my dear.”
My mother lets out a snort of contempt and I give her a dirty look.
She just shrugs. “Look at the two of you,” she says disdainfully.
Solon clears his throat and faces her. “I didn’t just invite you here because you had her clothes—”
My mom raises her hand, cutting him off. “Excuse me? Invite me here? We’re paying for this hotel room.”
“Mom,” I warn.
“It’s fine,” Solon says to me. Then he gives her a placating smile. “I asked you here because there’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“Oh god.” She nearly drops the coffee and stares at me in horror. “Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant. Or you’re getting married.”
“No,” I snap. “Let him finish.” Even though I don’t know what he’s going to say.
“I know who Lenore’s father is,” he goes on, voice deep and grave. “Her real father. I tasted her blood, I know this for a fact. It’s Jeremias.”
