Dad is the first to speak, falling into the rough, clipped tone he reserves for missions. “We’ve received a lot of information from the three human boys. More than we expected, frankly.” The admission has my brows raising as he continues. “Enough to start pulling the seams out of their family operation.”
I had hoped they would back up their words and condemnation of Terrance with action, and here it is. Proof of what side they’re on now.
The knowledge heals a small part of me that broke open the moment I opened my eyes in that cell and saw Callum and Elias standing guard.
Father takes over, leaning forward to rest his forearms atop his knees as his hands fold together. “Right now, we’re waiting to hear back from our contact within the U.S. government about forming a joint strike team. If we can do that, this mission won’t just be about getting your mom back…It’ll be about dismantling this hunter network for good.”
A fire roars in my chest as I nod along, my pulse racing with the thought of vengeance. For the first time since leaving the compound, I feel no dread at the thought of returning. My mother is there, suffering in that place. The thought burns away all of the fear.
There’s nothing left for me to do but kill them all, burn the hunter network to the ground, and bring her home.
While nothing can take away the memories of what I endured, I can make new ones in that godsforsaken hellhole. Ones that revolve around letting Lyra and Kael slaughter every last one of them. I will have new memories oftheirblood painting the walls and floors…not mine.
Papa’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “If we don’t hear back by tomorrow night, though, we’re not waiting. We go in ourselves and only focus on pulling her out. We won’trisk waiting and allowing whatever torture she’s enduring any longer.”
All three of them wear the same look of fury barely contained beneath their control. The kind of love that bleeds into violence. The kind of fear that leaves them no choice but to act.
I grip the edge of the seat beneath my fingers, my jaw tight. It’s not that I don’t feel the same, but beneath it all is the fury at the thought of more supernatural creatures facing what I did, even after we get Mom back.
I want to shove away the memories of what I endured…to bury it beneath the fire of vengeance, but I force myself to sit with it. To remember. To use them.
Mom wouldn’t want us to give up the opportunity of dismantling the entire hunter network. If anything, I’m sure she’d be offended that we thought she wasn’t strong enough to make it there long enough to ensure their full demise.
I don’t know how much Elias, Dante, and Callum told my fathers, but either way, they need to hear this from me–as the vampire who endured the exact same mist that tore Mom apart in front of my eyes.
The memories crawl up. The sting in my lungs, the melting of my skin, the way time bled together until all I knew was pain. I swallow hard, my voice barely more than a rasp when I finally speak.
“If she’s enduring what I did,” I murmur, staring down at my hands, “she’ll likely be out cold for a week. It took me that long to regain consciousness while recovering from the damage of the chemical mist. From what I gathered, nothing else was done to me while I was recovering, but that can be confirmed with the boys.”
Silence follows.
When I dare to lift my eyes, I see the horror etched across all three of their faces.
The idea of anyone hurting me had always filled them with fury. But the realization of what it takes to bring a vampire to their knees for aweek? That thought probably guts them to think of me and now Mom enduring.
They look at me like they’re seeing the extent of my invisible scars for the first time, and it makes my heart ache for them to understand. I don’t want them to think they failed me, like I know they will. I don’t want them to carry around any guilt for the atrocities I faced.
My throat bobs with a harsh swallow as I force out the words I was just told earlier. “It’s not your fault. They alone will answer for what they did.”
Their silence is suffocating, thick with their horror, but I can’t let it hold. I straighten my spine, drag air into my lungs, and attempt to force the tremor from my voice.
“I want to get her back just as fiercely as you all do,” I say firmly, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “But I also know Mom wouldn’t want us to just storm in and pull her out. She’d want us to burn that place to the fucking ground.”
Their expressions shift as I let my fury bleed out into my words, and their grief sharpens into mirror images of rage.
“If we attack without the full support we need to do that,” I continue, spurred on by the fire in my chest, “if we don’t burn them down and cut off every way they can rebuild, then we risk missing the only chance we have to end this and to end him. To make sureno oneelse ever endures what we did.”
The memories scrape against my mind, but I don’t look away from them, even as my eyes prick with tears. I won’t cower.
My pain will serve as the source of my fury and I will never allow myself to be ashamed of it, ever again.
I watch jaws clench, fists uncurl, and heads nod ever-so-slightly. The weight of their silence feels like acknowledgement as they see who I am now and hear the truth of my words.
Papa’s expression softens, the hard clench of his jaw easing as he studies me. “You’re not the little girl we once knew.”
My lip wobbles, the burn of tears rising hot in my eyes.
“I’ll never be that person again,” I whisper, the truth of it settling heavily between us. “Not after what I endured.” My hands fist in my lap, knuckles white as I steady myself. “And I want to ensure no one else faces this ever again. We need to end this once and for all.”
