Page 78 of Depths of Desire
“You knew?” The words lands like a hammer blow. “You knew I was searching? And still you stayed hidden? What kind of mother lets her children grieve her death when she’s not dead?”
She laughs—a sharp, mirthless sound. “Children,” she scoffs, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Renzo and Luca didn’t care I was gone. They never did. I stayed hidden for your sake. To protect you. I was thinking only of you.”
She steps forward. I step back.
“You’re full of shit,” I spit. “You did it for yourself. Renzo and Luca warned me about you. Said you treated them like trash while you fawned over me. I didn’t want to believe them. I thought they were jealous. But now—now I see it.”
Her smile this time is twisted. Wicked.
“Why am I such a horrible mother?” she says, mocking me. “Because I never wanted to be one.”
My blood runs cold.
“Renzo was a mistake,” she continues, her tone brittle with resentment. “When I got pregnant with you, I thought I’d finally do it right. I cast spells to make you powerful—but they didn’t work exactly as I expected. And by the time Luca came, I’d given up on making anything useful out of this cursed bloodline. He was nothing but a disappointment.”
I clench my jaw so tight it aches.
“Only you gave me any hope,” she says, her voice low and reverent now. “The spells I wove when you were born… they gave me a vision. A feeling. That one day, it would all come together. And that day… is today.”
Her smile blooms again, slow and gleaming like a blade.
Dread coils in my gut. “What are you talking about? Where’s Esme?”
I scan the church, eyes straining in the dim candlelight.
“She’s here,” my mother says casually, motioning toward the back of the cathedral. In the shadows, I spot what looks like a crumpled heap on the floor—small and unmoving.
I take a step forward, but she stretches out a hand, and suddenly the air thickens.
“Not so fast,” she warns. “You’ll get your little friend—after you do something for me.”
Tension clamps down around my shoulders. Every instinct screams that whatever she wants will cost more than I can afford. Why did I ever want to find her? I knew. On some level, I always knew she wasn’t dead. But standing here, facing her, I realize I never understood what it meant. My father warned me. So did my brothers. And now… here I am. Standing in the shadow of the very monster they swore she was.
“I’m not doing anything for you,” I say. “You made your choice when you disappeared. You don’t get to come back now and make demands.”
I move toward Esme, every step purposeful with resolve. Suddenly, I’m jerked backward, spun around with brutal force. My body isn’t mine for a split second.
She hisses, “You will listen to me!” Her outstretched hand glows faintly with magick.
I rip free of her hold, fangs bared. “You’ve been practicing your little tricks,” I snarl. “But save them for someone who gives a damn.” I rush to the bundle in the shadows and drop to my knees. Esme is barely breathing, but she is alive. I scoop her into my arms, relief flooding me. She’s cold, limp. But she’s still here. Still fighting. I turn toward the door just as it flies open.
Malrick Comescu strides in like he owns the world, a half-dozen vampires flanking him in perfect, deadly formation. Of course.
I grind my teeth. “What the fuck do you want?”
He grins, all teeth and venom. “It’s not what I want, Nico. It’s what your mother wants.” He gestures behind me. I turn. The altar has changed. Where once there were candles and silence, now there is ritual. Symbols drawn in blood. A circle etched in ash. My mother stands at the center, her right arm outstretched, power vibrating from her like static in a storm.
“You cannot leave just yet,” she calls out, her voice echoing off the cathedral walls. “I need you, Nico. You complete the ritual.”
“No,” I say, backing toward the exit with Esme in my arms. “No, Mother.” A sting in my neck. Burning. Poison. My legs buckle. The world tilts violently. My knees hit the stone floor. Esme slips from my grasp, her body landing beside me with a soft thud.
“What did you do?” I choke, vision spinning.
My mother smiles—slow and feral and final.
“Only what I had to, my son.”
And then everything fades to black.
