Page 20 of Gaga for the Gargoyle
“You will never be ‘just’ anything. Never underestimate yourself, Evangeline. Not in your beauty, your career, or your life.”
She lets out a long breath, her eyes filling with tears. One falls down her cheek, and she’s quick to wipe it away.
“Sor–” She stops herself and smiles. “You’re right. I am totally worth kidnapping.”
I can’t help the burst of laughter that bellows chest deep.
The amusement lighting up her face slowly fades.
“Wait,” she says quietly and stands. “There’s something else about the stories my mother used to tell me.”
I’m curious about these stories. It’s clearly why she wasn’t afraid upon meeting me. She’s been hearing about our existence her entire life. Then why did she act so shocked when I listed all the supernatural beings that exist?
Maybe her mother didn’t provide those details. Or maybe it’s the booze speaking. The water is helping, giving her a clear mind as we piece together the puzzle that is tonight.
“She used to tell me that something wanted to kidnap me. She’d adorn my crib with flowers—”
“Heathers? Like your tattoos? Is that why you got them?”
She nods. “My mother urged me to brand my body. She even recommended a friend to do it. It was a unique experience. The woman didn’t speak English and during the entire tattoo session, she sang beautiful words.”
A spell infused within the ink, as I suspected the moment we met.
“Anyway, I didn’t question my mother’s concern. I always believed her. My father, however, thought she was crazy. He sent her to a psychiatric hospital when I was ten. She’s still there.”
“Can you share some of these stories she told you?”
“Yes, but I’m convinced she held back a lot of details from me. Maybe because I was too young. I tried to get her to reveal more once I turned eighteen, but she was on so many meds, she could barely speak. Shestilldoesn’t talk much.”
“We should visit her then. If she wanted you to get the tattoos of protection because she feared something was after you, then she must know more. We’ll explain what happened tonight and maybe that will encourage her to give you all the details she left out. Anything that could provide some clarification on what could be hunting you and why.”
Because it’s possible I could be the reason she’s in danger.
“Okay, but visiting hours are only Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, six a.m. until six p.m. I’d have to call to set up a special visitation after sunset. But like I said, I’m not sure how much help she’ll be. On top of the meds, she’s in her seventies now. Her memory isn’t what it used to be.”
I cross my arms, thinking.
“All we can do is try. When do you work again?”
“Tuesday.”
“Is there any way I can convince you to take time off until we figure this out?”
“I...”
“Just think about it. I can help you with any finances—”
“I couldn’t.”
“If it means you’re safe, then I insist.”
She scrunches up her nose, and I stop myself from telling her that I will give her anything she could ever dream of, because I realize how crazy that sounds being we just met.
“Is your mother’s hospital located here in the city?”
“No. About an hour and a half outside.”
“Fuck.”
