Page 16 of Blood Gift

“My sons are here.” Her voice was barely a whisper. Not the loud, throaty, smoke-laced growl everyone who knew her had come to expect. A voice that could fill up a room, and a personality to go with it. She barely filled her bed anymore. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this. In this place.”

Her smile was strong, even if she wasn’t, and I reminded myself to stay positive for her sake though she looked like a living, speaking skeleton.

I had seen many terrible things—some of which I’d caused—but nothing like the ruined figure in this bed.

Wrapped in an ermine-trimmed silk robe, as always. When the light streaming in through the windows touched her face, I could nearly see through her skin.

I gritted my teeth against a sound of dismay.

“Don’t you have clan business to attend to?” she asked, slowing turning her head to look in my direction.

Her eyes were sunken, a pale version of their old vibrant blue, but as sharp as ever. She was a mother first, and could smell bullshit a mile away.

Dominic glanced at me and cleared his throat. “I managed to convince him to take a little time away from palm trees and tanned blondes.”

“You have to be convinced to visit your mother when she’s feeling under the weather?” she asked.

I could deal with that. As long as she wasn’t aware she was visiting with a sorcerer and a human, instead of two sorcerers.

“I’ve been busy lately, Mother. I’m sorry.” Yes. Busy.

I took her hand—so tiny, the skin like paper, the bones clearly evident underneath—and offered a sheepish smile. She was always a sucker for my smile. At least I could tell her I’d been busy without it feeling like a lie. I had been very busy. Extremely so.

Dominic sat on the other side of the bed, and we passed an uncomfortable hour making small talk before she was too tired to go on and needed rest.

I knew how she felt. I was suddenly exhausted myself.

We parted ways in silence, Dominic, and I.

There was nothing more to be said right now.

I walked back to the apartment on my own, which was a much more pleasant experience. No grumbling and bitching about humans, no putting on airs of superiority the way he’d been doing since the say we were born.

Three minutes older than me and one would think it was years for all his smug assuredness. Didn’t he stop to think that when he insulted humans, he insulted me?

Because I was human, practically. Instead of this helping him see that humans weren’t the scumbags we were raised believing they were, he silently lumped me in with them.

It was probably easier for him that way, I guessed as I turned down Fifth Avenue. The less he thought about the implications of what he’d done, the better for him.

Self-preservation was always Dominic’s highest priority.

A group of young women left Lord & Taylor together, carrying shopping bags and cell phones, wearing what looked to me like pajamas but to them, evidently, like the sort of clothing people wore in public.

I remembered when women dressed up to go shopping, especially in a store like that one; a lady had standards.

Then again, I remembered when Times Square was called Longacre Square. New York certainly had changed. As a human, I would have to change with it. I couldn’t hold myself up to a lofty standard anymore.

I waited at the crosswalk beside a young, dark-haired woman who looked at me with obvious interest.

I smiled, but it was the sort of smile one offers when they’re trying to be polite. I had no desire to strike up a conversation with her or any other woman except the one from the coffee shop. From my dreams.

This one reminded me of her, the hair was the same. Still, it was enough to get me thinking of her again, and maybe my overwrought brain needed something else to latch onto.

I wanted to see her.

I wanted to know she was real.

If it meant going to that coffee shop every day for a month and sitting there from open to close, I would do it just for the chance to see her again.

And it wasn’t like I had anything else to do.

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