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Shock was there first before Niamh gave her a sad smile, moving her other hand over their joined ones.
“I understand secrets, Niamh. I have plenty.” Bryn had wondered what was so huge that her friend kept her real self locked away.
“Yours are out in the open now. You have allies even though they know the real you. That would not be the case if they knew the real me,” Niamh whispered, the room around them growing in agitation at the lack of information, but no one demanded they speak just yet.
“Not all. . .,” Bryn stated, staring at the divot in the wood floor, most likely from one of Niamh’s high heels.
“You don’t have to tell me anything—” Niamh started, but Bryn cut her off with a wave of her hand.
They were all in this together now. There was nothing left to lose, so her secrets no longer held the same weight they once did.
“Mallory is perfect to everyone here,” Bryn started, drawing on the courage to speak, keeping her eyes to the floor.
“I know that woman is evil. I am sure you have plenty of religious lectures growing up that were the epitome of hypocritical.” Niamh laughed, but Bryn didn’t.
She didn’t look up at Niamh’s face as her friend grew silent. If Bryn was going to tell them all, she needed to not look at anyone.
“She didn’t bother after a while,” Bryn started, and she could see the tips of Jace’s shoes as he stepped forward. He didn’t touch her, but he was still lending his strength to her. “I was too broken. When she fell in with the church, my father was alive, so she would do small things no one would notice. Pinches and hits that he wouldn’t see since she did it during my bath time.
“Saying that I brought death and that death took my uncle because of me. Soon, she would tell me I killed my mother, should have died with her... and then after my father... that I killed him.” Bryn had to stop and take a moment to calm her breathing.
A hand went to her shoulder, but Bryn feared touching it right then and making her shaking hands obvious. A curse passed someone’s lips, and Jace pulled her face into his shoulder, Niamh still holding her hand, but Bryn pulled away from them both.
She appreciated their strength, but she just felt like she needed to not be touched while saying the words of her tormented past.
“After my father passed, she was so angry that she’d lock me in her closet. I’d get so hungry and so scared of the shadows... that it would be her coming back. Then the closet meant I didn’t have to endure her words that came with the physical hits...”
Wiping a tear away from her eye, Niamh pulled Bryn in closer, Jace and Niamh holding her up now that her legs were buckling, and she had no other option but to let them.
“When my fits happened while working with Jace after dad died, she tried to get the demon out by beating me. Once I recovered, she’d do it again, which is why I was in my room so much in my teen years.” A sob escaped, and she rallied to control herself so she could finish.
“I am going to kill her with my bare hands...” Declan’s voice was terrifying as he said the words Bryn had wished to hear on those nights when she prayed for a savior.
“That’s for me. I’ve earned my vengeance,” Bryn whispered as she wiped her eyes and finally looked at the room around her.
Justin had his jaw clenched, eyes on fire, and he looked ready to snap. Most of the men did. Sage looked so sad on her behalf that Bryn had to look away again.
The silence was too thick for Bryn to handle, and the urge to flee the looks of both pity and promised retribution were strong, but she had relived that time for a purpose.
“Now everyone knows all my secrets. We should all feel safe in each other’s presence because like it or not, we are a family all our own now, and we need each other to survive.”
Turning to Niamh, she wiped the tears away and tried to smile.
“You don’t have to tell us, but know it is a safe place, here with us”—Bryn waved around the room—“for when you are ready to share.”
Niamh nodded, almost frantically, and then her bloodred lips spoke.
“A Dearg Due is...” Niamh took a deep breath, settling herself as she tightened her hand around the one Bryn offered again. “I am what you call a vampire.”
That was not at all what Bryn expected.
“Like, you drink blood vampire?” Kessler asked, everyone’s eyes in the room huge at her revelation.
Niamh nodded before swallowing. Looking at the ceiling, she composed herself again and turned to the room.
“Only people who are willing. I have control of it, so no need to fear me.”
“I thought I’d be a lot more scared to meet a vampire,” Justin stated, scratching his head.
