“You’re late.” The petite redhead scowled at me as I entered her house via the sliding door to the kitchen. “You were due an hour ago, Caleb. Do you not take these lessons seriously?”
Trying really damn hard not to roll my eyes, I gave her a tight, forced smile of apology. “Sorry, Bridget. I was helping Kit with some things.” I left it vague. She didn’t need to know the specifics of what was going on in her daughter’s life. She’d lost that right when she abandoned Kit as a seven-year-old with no memories. Sure, she’d helped lately, and I was grateful and all, but… She seemed to have an uncanny ability to spot a lie, so I was careful to always tell the truth. Just... a brief and vague truth.
“Helping her with what?” Bridget demanded, her light Irish accent thickening with her frustration. “If you would just tell me what is going on that has you constantly late for these lessons, then maybe I could help. I am her mother, after all.”
I must have been more tired than I thought, because I snorted in disgust. Usually I was careful to keep my contempt for Bridget under wraps. After all, I did need her help. Or... I had needed it. My control over the blood lust had come a really long way, and I was starting to think I’d be okay without her. Being free of lying to Kit by omission would be an added bonus too.
“What? You doubt that I am her mother?” Bridget snapped, her eyes widening with fury, and I scrubbed a tired hand over my face.
“No,” I sighed. “I have no doubt that you’re her biological mother. That is pretty damn obvious.” The resemblance between them was striking. When we’d first met, I would have said they were identical, but having spent the better part of a month training with Bridget on a nightly basis, I could see the differences.
Bridget was shorter than Kit and more slight. Her eyes were several shades darker than my Kitty Kat’s ice-blue, and her hair was more auburn than the copper-red of my girl. Most of all, Bridget’s eyes were hard and cruel.
“I see,” she sniffed in anger. “You’re judging me for the actions I took in giving Christina up for adoption.”
My brows shot up. This was the closest we’d ever come to actually discussing her choice to abandon her daughter. Most of the time our lessons were strictly magical, with the occasional prying question about Kit’s powers, her dianoch, our relationships... all things I’d deftly avoided answering with any substance.
It was bad enough that I was meeting Bridget behind Kit’s back; I’d be damned if I gave away any personal information to her as well.
“Uh, I’m not judging.” I shrugged, even though I already had judged her for it. “Just pointing out the facts. You might have given birth to her, but you are not her mother. No mother would have left her daughter on the streets with no memories. Did you care at all what would happen to her after that? Did you even give a shit that she was tortured and abused for years thanks to your selfish decision?”
Okay, so I was getting worked up and probably giving her far too much information. But her indignation that I had scoffed at her being Kit’s mother was pushing all my buttons.
“I...” Bridget started to respond, but seemed at a loss for words. It was only temporary though, as her cheeks heated with anger, and she scowled at me. “I will have you know, Caleb, that what I did was for her own good!”
“Her own good?” I snorted. “Sure. You keep telling yourself that. I think maybe we’re done with these lessons.” I made as if to leave the room, but she stopped me.
“Wait!” she yelled, and I paused. “Let me explain my side of things. If you still want to be done, then that’s your choice, but at least hear me out so that Christina might understand I’m not such a bad person.”
Suspicion rode heavy in my gaze as I turned slowly back to her. As much as I wanted to tell her to shove off and then never step foot in this house again, I also wanted to hear what possible explanation she had for dropping her daughter onto the streets and never looking back.
“You have five minutes.” I decided. “Make it good.”
“Thank you,” she gushed, flipping her dark red hair over her shoulder. “Sit, please. I had just made us some tea.”
“No.” I waved off her offer of tea but took the seat offered. “Just say what you need to.”
Bridget’s lips pursed tightly, but she said nothing more as she poured her own cup of tea and took the wicker armchair opposite me. My time spent here learning from her had taught me how much she was a stickler for hospitality, and me refusing her tea must have pushed some buttons.
“As you know, I departed Christina’s life when she was just seven years old. Until then, I had raised her myself, as any loving mother would do.” I curled my lip in disgust, and her glare sharpened on me. “I don’t know how much you fully understand about Ban Dia, but we can only procreate after we turn three hundred years old. Well, my dianoch and I were all very much in love, and when Christina was born, we were overjoyed. She was so perfect, even though she showed no signs of being my true descendant. Ban Dia can only ever produce one Ban Dia offspring, you see. All other children are simply other types of normal supernaturals, depending on their father’s lineage.”
This was not new information for me, as Vic had touched on it briefly already. He’d had a bit of a different spin on it... but what Bridget was saying made sense so far.
“Well, as I am sure you have encountered yourself, there are plenty of people who would love to get their hands on a full-blooded Ban Dia for their own selfish means. A lot of groups are convinced that the Ban Dia race will bring the salvation of the supernatural kinds, especially those that are dying out. They didn’t believe that we too were affected by the plague and lack the magic necessary to heal those who were magically castrated.” Her lips twisted in hurt and anger, and I understood there was a long history with some of these groups she spoke of. She had been a resident at Blood Moon labs for over a hundred years, after all.
“Most of my kind have gone into hiding for their own safety, as had I. My guardians and I had escaped a horrific place and moved to Victor’s hometown in Alaska, but even there we weren’t safe. We went back on the run, and then I found out I was pregnant. I was simply terrified that my sweet baby would be targeted by these fanatics, and I did just everything I could to keep her safe, but eventually it just wasn’t enough.” She broke off with a sob, and I hesitated.
The tears pooling in her eyes seemed genuine, and her hands were shaking as she dabbed at them with a fabric napkin pulled from her sleeve. Could she really be telling the truth? That she’d given Kit up... to protect her?
“I can’t go into the details,” she sniffed. “It’s too painful. But after that night... I’d already almost lost one of my loves, Victor, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they got my little girl. I needed to separate from her, for her own good. It took some planning, but I eventually arranged for a trusted friend to take Christina in and raise her as a human. She had displayed none of the typical magic of a Ban Dia—nor of any other species—so we decided it was in her best interests to be brought up human.”
She paused to blow her nose delicately into her handkerchief, and I took a moment to run this new information over in my head. It was kind of understandable... I guessed. I’d witnessed first-hand how ruthless Kit’s enemies were and could hardly comprehend how hard it’d be to raise and protect a child amidst all of this. Especially if that child were human. Wouldn’t it be better not to expose them to this world? If the choice was there...
“So, what happened?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes at Bridget, “You say your trusted friend took Kit in, then how did she come to be found on the streets and then placed in foster care?”
Bridget covered her face for a moment, sobbing into her hands before pulling it together. “I didn’t know any of that until recently, when I tried to track her down. My friend fell ill, terminal with cancer, and got mixed up with mages and blood demons.”