Thankfully, he’s not here at the moment. As soon as the door closed behind me when I got home, I hurried to practice, because how embarrassing would it be if he were here to see this?
I know Zav and Valen are vampires. It seems impossible, but it’s true. I have irrefutable proof of their vampirism. I shudderat the memory of walking in on Zav drinking blood out of a CapriSun style packet. Me being more than human, though? It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve never felt anything but normal.
Snagging my phone off the cushion, I dial the number of the one person that can help me right now. It only rings once before they pick up.
“Ava, my baby!” my mom’s voice echoes through the room.
“Hi, Mom.” I instantly relax and my body’s flooded with warm fuzzies. My mom is my favorite person in the world. She has the uncanny ability to calm my racing thoughts and bring me back to focus. Something even Spencer struggled to do.
“It’s been too long since you called me. Why can’t I see your face?” she scolds, her tone light but begging.
My mom is big on FaceTime versus phone calls, and I laugh but switch over to video. Once I see her, she gives a kind smile that floods all her features. Her long, dark hair and brown eyes are nothing like my pale features, but she’s not my biological mom.
When I was young, I was adopted by her and my dad. They may not be my biological parents, but they’re my parents in every way that counts. I was spoiled growing up as their only child, and I have nothing but fond memories when I think of my childhood. Family really does run deeper than blood.
“There’s my gorgeous girl. How are you?” Her eyes dart around my face like she’s taking me in.
“Pretty good.” I try to fake enthusiasm, but she sees right through me.
“Ava. Just because I’m virtual doesn’t mean I can’t tell something’s wrong. What’s going on?” Her expression softens when I bite my lip nervously.
“Can you tell me about my bio parents?” I cringe a little when I ask.
My parents have always told me if wanted to know aboutthem, I could ask. That they wouldn’t judge me for doing so, and they’d tell me what little they knew. I think it’s a natural thought process to wonder about that kind of thing but truthfully haven’t wanted to up until now. I love my adoptive parents, and I’ve never felt any kind of need or desire to discover “who I really am” because I already know who I am. But if what Valen says is true, and I am a witch, maybe information about my birth parents could help.
“Of course, but what’s brought this on all of a sudden?” she replies after slight hesitation. I’m sure I’ve caught her off guard with the question when I’ve gone my entire life, including my angsty teen years, not caring.
Unable to sit still anymore, I pace around the apartment.
I carefully word my response. “Someone said something recently that had me curious about my heritage.” It’s not like I can come out and say a vampire who’s been held hostage for hundreds of years claims I’m his mate said I’m a witch.
“It was a closed adoption, as you know, so we don’t know too much, but I’m happy to share what we do. They were killed in a tragic accident when you were three. Their names were Hannah and James. We were never given a last name or even the location of where you came from, though we always assumed it had to be somewhere in or around Chicago. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more.” Her sigh is one only a mother who’s worried about her child can make. “We did try to look into things over the years, just in case you asked, but we didn’t get far. Maybe nowadays, with social media, you might get somewhere.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. Her response is not what I wanted to hear, but not entirely unexpected. “No, I get it. Thanks for answering what you could and being so willing to.” I twirl a piece of my pink hair around my finger.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks, peering at meover the top of her glasses. I bet I called her in the middle of working on one of her crochet projects. “Do you need to come home for a visit?”
I really do need to get over and see them soon.
“I’m good, just big life changes between the break-up and moving. Celine and Luna have been great friends through it all. We plan to go to paint pottery soon,” I ramble and walk over to the balcony to look out the sliding glass doors. The last thing I want is for my mom to worry about me.
“Okay, sweetie. If you’re sure. Your father and I would love to see you. Maybe we can get together soon and hit the Korean spot we all love.” She blows a kiss, and I give her a wave as we say goodbye.
I toss my phone onto the couch and watch the clouds roll by. Just then a huge, dark figure appears on the balcony, scaring the shit out of me. I’m pretty sure my scream can be heard by the entire floor, and a little pee might even come out.
Valen tilts his head at me in question, and I open the door for him. He walks through nonchalantly like he didn’t just fall from the sky.
“Dude, what the hell? You scared me!” I screech and try to calm my racing heart.
“Sorry,” Valen offers and plants his toned butt on a chair.
“Maybe stick to walking through the front door? Or give a girl a warning if you’re going to do that again.” I hold a hand to my chest and move to sit. I feel a little lightheaded. “Where’d you go?”
“The library. I returned some books and then got pulled into a conversation with Edith about her pet squirrels.” When he says it so monotone, I can’t help but smile.
“I see.” I stifle a giggle. “I just got off the phone with my mom. She couldn’t tell me much about my parents, but I have alittle bit of information to go off. I’m going to look into what happened and see if I can’t find out more.”
“Do you want help?” Valen crosses his arms over his chest, and the veins bulge, making me lose my train of thought for a second. I might be post-break-up, dealing with the whole vampires are real thing, and trying to wrap my head around the idea that I’m a witch, but I can still admit that Valen is the sexiest male specimen I’ve ever laid eyes on. I would gladly trace every vein on his body with my tongue. I wonder what he’d look like with my mouth on his cock—what he’d sound like when he came?
