“Oh, Nolan,” my mother murmurs with a hint of disappointment, her pale blue eyes red from crying. I don’t know if she’s disappointed because I used my abilities to manipulate someone, or the fact that I had to go to such extremes to get the information in the first place. I’m too afraid to ask.
“How long have you needed to… What I mean is, when did you stop using bagged blood?” my father asks as delicately as possible. His careful choice of words isn’t surprising, considering they just heard the long list of people I’ve had some form of physical exchange with for the past couple of years.
“Since I was fourteen,” I answer with both shame and guilt clogging my throat.
“Three years!” my mother exclaims, rising from her side of the couch. She immediately takes my hand, pulls me to my feet, and wraps her arms around me. “You’ve suffered for so long.”
“It was more like two and a half,” I correct, letting go of Callie’s hand so I can hug my mother in return. She smells of rosewater and shakes with soft sobs that make my heart ache.
“That’s two and a half years too long,” my father states, devastation filling his eyes as he watches us. “Why didn’t you tell us, son? Did we make you feel like you couldn’t talk to us?”
“No, that’s not it,” I insist as I rub my mother’s back, trying to soothe her tears. “It’s because… because I couldn’t prove that Gina did it, so it would be her word against mine. She’s the daughter of the coven leader and the Medical Director of Twin Cedar Pass Hospital, which is where our blood supply comes from.” I release a controlled breath and push my rising anxiety back down. “Getting on the coven’s bad side meant that you might not get the blood you needed and… and they might not let us live here anymore.”
My mother is shocked out of her tears, and she pulls back enough to look up at me. With a furrowed brow, she explains, “Sweetheart, her parents don’t have that kind of power. Yes, Neva has authority over her coven and vaguely the town as its mayor, but we own the land the town is built on.”
“As well as the banks, the hospital, and many of the businesses that keep this town operating,” my father adds, standing up and moving the coffee table so he can get closer to us. He rests his hand on the back of my neck and gives it a gentle squeeze. “We also completely fund the schools and libraries. This town may have been founded by the witches, but it would cease to exist without our support.”
“Fuck,” Donovan breathes, his curse echoing around in my head. He shifts farther down the couch to give our hugging trio space.
“How did I not know this?” I wheeze, blinking as my brain short-circuits. I’ve been stuck like this for years, and my parents didn’t need the protection at all.
“It was business. Nothing we thought you needed to worry about,” my mother responds, her voice mournful.
“We wanted you to have a carefree childhood,” my father explains, his chin quivering as a tear drips down his cheek. He wraps his arms around me and my mother. “I’m so sorry, son.”
“This isn’t your fault,” I reply, not knowing how to feel anymore. Guilt for betraying my parents? Rage over how dramatically different my life could have been had I only told them the truth? Despair because, in the end, I’m still dying? I look over at Callie, and she gives me an understanding smile since she’s had her life flipped upside down a few times as well.
My eyes start to burn with the painful emotions building inside me as my parents hold onto me like their strength alone can keep me from dying. For several minutes, the room is filled with the sounds of my parents sobbing their apologies for not noticing sooner, for being gone, for not protecting me, and for the time I have suffered. I keep telling them that it isn’t their fault, that they couldn’t have known, but it falls on deaf ears.
The cycle is finally interrupted by Mildred, her British accent clipped as she speaks. “What has been done to your son is vile, and it’s no one’s fault except for the fool witches who cast the spell.” Her gaze flicks between my parents as they try to rein in their emotions with a mixture of compassion and determination. “Blaming yourselves will not help him. Our current concern needs to be focused on Nolan’s health. Callie informs me that his illness has become dramatically worse recently. In what way?”
“He can only keep down magically rich blood,” Callie answers for me, her words precise and her back ramrod straight. “Specifically, my blood.”
Mildred nods her head slowly, taking in the information but offering no clue to her thoughts.
“I’ve, um, also grown physically weaker, and my mind… I haven’t been myself,” I add lamely, because despite my promise, I can’t admit the truth to my parents—how close I was to ending my own life.
“Oh, oh no,” my mother laments. With the knowledge of my diminishing strength, she gently pushes me back into a sitting position. “You should rest.”
Callie gets up and takes a seat in a matching chair next to Mildred, allowing my parents to sit on either side of me. They each claim one of my hands, practically draining the blood from my fingers from gripping them so tightly.
“What makes her blood—” My father is swiftly interrupted.
“Can you fix him?” Donovan blurts, his knees bouncing with all of the anxious energy he refuses to show on his face.
Her expression is the same as a doctor’s who is telling a patient they are terminal. “I’m sorry, not with what I know at the moment. The spell is magic let loose in an attempt to fulfill the requests of multiple witches.” She slides her hands along the gold armrests as she meets my frightened gaze. “This has grown beyond trying to undo a spell. It’s a part of you, and I don’t know enough about vampire physiology to know where to start to cure you.”
Despite knowing that I was a lost cause, it’s a violent blow having it confirmed.
“No, that can’t be true,” Callie insists, her voice strained. “With all that I’m capable of, there has to be a way for me to save him.”
“You can’t just magically root around inside him and hope for the best,” Mildred counters, her tone soft as she gently places her hand on Callie’s forearm. “Ignorant magic is what got him into this state.”
My mother looks directly into my father’s eyes when she asks, “What if I could get you the world’s foremost expert on vampire physiology, Queen Emine’s personal physician?”
“Wait, as in the vampire queen?” Donovan questions, his head whipping around to stare at my mother. “ThatQueen Emine?”
“If they could identify what the spell is specifically doing to him and what would be required to cure him, then yes, I think our chances of saving Nolan increase dramatically,” Mildred answers, unfazed by the fact that my mother is somehow going to summon an important member of the vampire queen’s court.
