"Bullshit. I'm your mother. I know when something is wrong." She pointed a finger at me.
I turned away and took a deep breath. Mustn't lose my temper and chance showing her what that something wrong was. I had a feeling she'd prefer an alcoholic over a vampire.
When I spoke again, my voice was level. "I have a stable job and an apartment. I even have friends." Granted, they were odd friends, and not the sort you let around your family. "It's not like I'm homeless, living on a street and unable to function in society."
"Aileen." Her voice turned pleading. Next, she’d turn on the waterworks. I loved my mother, but she was as manipulative as the day was long.
I hardened my heart. If I let her continue, she would find a way to turn this around until even I thought I might have a problem. I couldn't let her do that, especially in light of all the issues I was already dealing with.
"No." I kept my voice firm and even. "We're not talking about this anymore. This is my life, and I'll live it how I choose. You can either accept that and respect my boundaries, or you can get out of it. Your choice, Mother."
I met her gaze and tried to put all my resolve behind it. Much as I loved my family, I couldn't let them keep doing this to me. It was hard to listen as they listed all the things they thought wrong with me, and dangerous for them if they kept crossing the limits I set.
The tears that had been threatening her eyes dried up, and she met my gaze, her jaw clenching. The stubborn woman that I'd butted heads with on many occasions as I'd grown up was there in her eyes.
"You're just like him," my mom said, the comparison sounding ugly.
I stilled. “Like who?”
Before tonight, I probably wouldn’t have questioned the comparison, assuming it was of my dad. Except my dad and I had never had much in common, and she had never sounded like that when talking about the dad I’d grown up with. After listening to the conversation about my possible spook heritage, I had questions. Lots of them.
My mom looked away, her jaw hardening.
“Mom, who am I like?” I asked in a measured voice.
“I’m not talking about this anymore,” she snapped, her voice cold and hard.
“What are we talking about, Mom?” I asked, my voice high and tight. Suspicion was crowding close the more she evaded. I didn’t want to think what I was thinking—that my dad might not be my dad. That was too horrible to contemplate, even as her actions drove that thorn ever deeper.
"I’m done with this conversation.” She made a sharp gesture, cutting me off. "Since you don't want to take the first step toward getting better, I'll leave you to live your life the way you want—without me in it."
Her words were like a punch in the stomach—almost worse than the questions about my dad. I hadn't really thought she'd take that choice. I'd thought the ultimatum would force her to see that what she was doing wasn't helping, that it was making things worse between us. Seemed I'd done that anyways.
She threw the rag into the sink and stepped around the counter, grabbing her keys and tossing a goodbye in Mrs. Bradley's direction.
"Mom, don't do this." My voice was small as I tucked a shaking hand into the back pocket of my jeans. I hated fighting with her. I always had, but I couldn't let her continue as she had been. I just didn't have it in me.
She stopped in the doorway. A sniffle reached me and then she rubbed her eyes. "You know where to find me if you decide you'd like help."
She hesitated, and for a moment, I thought about calling out to her, promising anything to take the hurt out of her voice. She walked away, and I said nothing to stop her.
Mrs. Bradley cackled, her laugh breaking me from the emotional morass I was venturing into. "Perhaps you're not such a monster after all."
I sniffed, sucking back any emotion that might be trying to leak out of my eyes. "What do you know of monsters, Mrs. Bradley?"
She moved back and forth in her chair, and I realized it was one of those rocking chairs that looked like a normal armchair. She contented herself with rocking for a few moments, staring off into the distance.
For a moment, I thought she might have gotten lost in her own world, and I considered leaving. She spoke before I could take a step toward the door. "They're all around us, though you'll never see them."
She rocked for several more moments, muttering to herself. I stayed where I was since she still had the poker clutched in her hands. I didn't want to chance that she would go after me with that thing.
"It's best that they keep to their own kind, Lena," she said, using the nickname from when I was young and innocent. "Humans and monsters just aren't meant to be together. Bad things happen when the two intersect."
"What happened to you, Mrs. Bradley?"
Her gaze turned faraway, and her face grew haunted. "The monsters got a hold of me and made me a monster too."
My eyes were thoughtful as they rested on her. She was human, or at least she felt human to my senses. It was possible that I wasn't picking up on her spook factor, and that someone like Liam or Brax would be able to sense more. Not that I could ask either one of them for their help, even if we were on speaking terms. I imagine it was why Caroline asked my mom to take care of hers rather than having one of the wolves do it.
There was a chance they'd see her mom and know what was wrong, but there was also a chance that they'd consider her a threat to their secrecy. Caroline and I wouldn't risk her mom's life without being dead sure that what we were doing would help her in the end.
"Is that what happened to you, Aileen?" she asked.
My mouth quirked. At least she was back to referring to me by my name and not as a body replacing monster.
"Yeah, Mrs. Bradley. That's what happened to me too."
She nodded, her eyes sad. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."
I shrugged. "It is what it is."
"I saw my daughter last night," Mrs. Bradley said, her voice distant. My heart leapt at the unexpected piece of news. "The monsters had got to her too, and she wasn't my baby anymore."
I ventured closer, taking a seat on her coffee table to make myself seem smaller and less threatening. The spot was still far enough out of reach of her poker that I could stage a hasty retreat if need be. "Where was this, Mrs. Bradley? Where did you see Caroline?"
"She wasn't my Caroline anymore." Emotion thickened her voice and a mad light entered her eyes.
Okay, I wasn't going to be able to reason with the current Mrs. Bradley. She was a little too close to the edge for that, and I didn't want to upset her more for fear she would shut down, and any information I needed would disappear into the twisty corridors of her mind.
"Where did this monster who used to be Caroline appear to you?" I asked, my voice hesitating over the word monster.
"She was in my dreams." Mrs. Bradley's smile was wistful and serene. "She was running from something, darkness all around."