I can’t say I’ve ever wanted something more.
Chapter 50
Sephania
It’s well into the morning when I finally collapse and extricate myself from Lukain. We sleep in a tangle of limbs, naked, sweaty, content.
Come nightfall the following evening, I bathe in the calm river next to Manor Marquin with my newest mate by my side.
Then it’s time for business. Iron Sister Keffa is due to arrive this night to take Jinneth back to their home. I have some painful questions to ask my mother before she goes.
She is still bedridden when I poke my head into her bedroom. Oddly, it is Palacia sitting next to her, keeping my mother company and watching over her.
I can only hope my old friend has not gotten any ideas of bloodlust while Jinneth peacefully slept.
My mother looks much better tonight. She has been given clean clothes, and the soiled bandage at the end of her left wrist has been replaced by a fresh gauze. The bleeding of her stump has stopped, but that doesn’t stop me from grimacing at the sight of her amputated hand.
“Does it hurt?” I ask, giving Palacia a nod and sending her on her way out the door.
“Of course it fucking hurts, girl,” Jinneth answers. She offers me a weak smile as she sits up against her pillows with a groan. “Less than it did, however. I suppose I’ll forget about it soon enough.”
I quirk my brow. “Forget about losing a hand, Mother?”
She shrugs. “Alacine put it best, I suppose: I don’t need both.” Stretching her right hand and waggling the fingers into a fist, she smiles at herself. “Keffa will be pleased I’ve kept mygoodhand.”
A flare comes to my cheeks. “I, uh, don’t think I need to learn more about what that entails.”
Jinneth laughs, and I have to imagine it’s the first time she’s let out a sound like that in many days.
The silence that falls over us is heavy. She reaches out and gently places her hand on top of mine, patting my knuckles. “These vampires of yours are better than I believed. Cleaned me right up, they did.”
I hate to do it, but I say the words anyway. “I told you, Mother. You can’t judge all bloodsuckers with such a broad stroke.”
“I’ll keep doing it. The bloody ones are still my enemy.”
“And mine,” I answer darkly. “Most of them, anyway. Praise the True for two of their leaders being dead.”
“Sounds like the True had nothing to do with the deaths of those Ministers.”
“No, I suppose not. I was just on my way to question Skartovius about all that, but I wanted to see you off first.”
“And?” My mother knows me well and can see the question biting at the tip of my tongue.
“And . . . I have to know, Mother. The silverblood tincture?” I lean forward, wincing. “Is it . . . lost with Old Endolf’s death?”
Jinneth gains a distant expression as she turns her head and stares at the pulled curtains of the nearby window. She lets out a sigh. “Poor Endolf. Didn’t deserve half the life he was given.” There’s true sadness in her voice. It hurts to hear. I know she respected the man she once called friend, and that he had an unrequited love for my mother—so fierce, in fact, he protected her with his life. To the very end.
She faces me then, determination written into every line across her face. “It is not lost, Sephania. I watched Endolf work every step of the way. It can be recreated.”
My heart sings at this news and I take in a deep breath, gathering the air in my lungs. “Then my mission is not a failed one. Yet.”
“It’s not, daughter.” Her brow creases. “Do you truly believe it can be done? That you can reshape the minds of so many soulless beings—turn themhumanagain?”
I don’t want to crush the sheer wistful yearning on her face. The truth is, I have no fucking idea. So I give her a small smile. “That’s why we must test the elixir. See if it truly works. But I’ll keep craving this dream, even it’s a far-fetched one.”
I squeeze her hand in mine, smiling down at my mother. She looks weaker now, older, her dark hair slightly grayer at her scalp. After living a live of imprisonment, much like me, she has seen no respite. I have to keep her safe from the vampires who would end us—the bloodsuckers we’re fighting against. It’s the only way I can be content with what I’m doing: If I know the ones I love are safe. Otherwise, what is it all for?
Standing from her bedside, I say, “I love you, Mother.”
