Page 202 of Huntress

“Your mate, I’m aware.” Her mother spoke in such a kindly tone that it almost obscured the implications behind her words. Almost, but not quite.

“Wait, wait—you knew about him?” Elsie asked.

“Of course I did,” Santa Muerte laughed. “I know you believe that I abandoned you, child, but I checked in from time to time, to ensure that you were healthy and treated with the respect you deserve. I will say that it came as quite a surprise when you chose to join them.”

Elsie pulled out of her mother’s grasp, unable to fully wrap her head around what she’d heard.

“I was bored out of my mind! If you’ve been watching me this whole time, why didn’t you ever reach out? Couldn’t you see how much I missed you? Do you know what I was forced to do to him?” she demanded. Stolas croaked a warning, his glittering black eyes focused on her.

“You think me cruel,” Santa Muerte said.

Elsie didn’t reply, waiting for an answer to her questions. Stolas answered instead. The prince of a thousand hell dimensions transformed into his human form, his scowl exactly as terrifying as Elsie remembered.

“You still speak like a child,” he scolded. “Petulant, whiny. You have no concept of how much effort the goddess put into ensuring you were raised properly. Most of your siblings were raised by nursemaids from the moment they were born. Not one of them spent as much time with her as you did.”

Elsie’s chin raised with pride. “Is that supposed to make me feel special? Abandoning a child at seven is not something to boast about! Not raising your own children isn’t either!”

“Do you think Santa Muerte has time for child-rearing? Imagine if the Goddess of Death were expected to take a twenty-year break every time she birthed a daughter. Who’d be there to greet those needing passage to the afterlife? She cares for each of you and watches over you. You were given preferential treatment and you still complain?” he seethed.

“Do you always make excuses on her behalf?” Elsie snapped back. Stolas’ face went cold.

“That’s enough, Stolas. I’m sorry, Elspeth, but you needed to be prepared for what is to come. You needed to experience life from the side of those who would oppose you. The hunters are not the worst you will face in your endeavors, but they will forever remain a lesson and reminder of who you are not. And you will need that lesson in the years to come.”

“That’s a shit explanation,” Elsie growled, channeling her mate’s winning personality without even realizing it. “Why didn’t you come before now? I know Charlamagne is still out there, I had to kill one of his envoys the same day I lost my mate. And you knew about it?! Do you even care how much pain we’re in? You could have stopped it from happening!”

“It’s true. Had I intervened, your mate might have stayed by your side for longer. I chose not to.”

Elsie glared daggers at her mother. The goddess who had chosen to let her live in misery while claiming to be a loving parent.

She reached above her shoulder and pulled Saint’s sword free, liking the extra weight. Her strikes would land harder with this thing. Stolas’ calm face distorted into disbelief, but Santa Muerte stopped him with a flick of her eyes.

“Do not interfere,” she said, and the raven prince backed down.

Elsie was at her in a flash, and she didn’t hold back. Swinging the sword harder and faster than ever before. She sent a flurry of attacks at her mother, desperately trying to inflict at least a scratch. A few drops of blood.

She couldn’t touch the goddess.

Santa Muerte moved just enough to avoid the blade so every swing missed. She didn’t even bother taking out the massive scythe that was her weapon. The goddess had no need to properly defend herself against her half-fae child.

“You’d have to use magic to even have a chance, Elspeth,” Santa Muerte’s voice stayed calm, as though her own child weren’t frantically trying to cause her pain.

“Magic?” Elsie laughed hysterically. “You weren’t there to teach me any fucking magic! I worshiped you!” Elsie shouted, redoubling her efforts and getting serious. She wouldn’t be able to get a single hit in if she wasn’t trying to kill the woman. The sword arched, and Santa Muerte dodged it, but she hadn’t noticed the knife Elsie had pulled. It didn’t cut the goddess, but Elsie had managed to put a hole in that pretty dress of hers.

“I trusted you. Believed in you! You were my mother,” Elsie sobbed, continuing the attack, her strikes growing even faster as the anger fueled her actions.

“I am your mother.”

“I thought you loved me!” Elsie screamed. She dropped the sword and pulled out another knife. She wanted to get closer. She wanted to look into Santa Muerte’s eyes when she made that connection.

“Oh, child. I do love you.”

“LIAR! Mothers who love their children don’t throw them away and force them to live horrible lives! You chose the fast and convenient way to teach me life lessons. The lazy way! You didn’t want to have to act like a parent!” Elsie’s onslaught continued, and Santa Muerte finally had to concentrate.

“What I did for you is similar to what you did for your Tobias, Elspeth. My actions were for your protection.”

“Do not speak his name!” Elsie demanded. The tears were starting to obstruct her vision, but that didn’t stop her. She dropped the knives and grabbed her mother’s dress, pulling the goddess close. “He was in real, imminent danger! They slaughtered his entire family, enslaved him, and scheduled his death for defending me. You do not get to set me aside claiming the boogeyman was coming for me, then compare the situations.”

She punched the goddess of death in the face.