Using magic, I open the back door and step into the house. I can smell the fire going in the fireplace before I see the soft glow of the flames. Smiling, I untie my cloak and hang it on the back of a kitchen chair.
“Lucas?” I call softly.
“Hello, my love.” He comes in through the living room, handsome face shadowed by the dark. My heart swells in my chest at the sight of him, and every nerve in my body comes alive when he pulls me into his arms, dipping me back for a kiss.
“I missed you,” I tell him, sliding my arm down his chest. “Is that pathetic?”
“Maybe a little,” he teases and kisses me again. He scoops me up and carries me into the living room, sitting us both down on the couch. A roaring fire crackles before us, warming the room.
“That feels good,” I say, closing my eyes and holding my hands out. “It got cold fast tonight, and the temp is still dropping.”
Lucas holds me tighter and gets the blanket. “Did you enjoy the feast?”
“I did.” I take the blanket from him and spread it out over our legs. “It felt good to be back to normal.” Resting my head against his chest, I give myself a minute to enjoy this moment. I’m snuggled on the couch with the love of my life, my hellhound is chewing on a bone, actually using the dog bed I got her, and my familiars are near at the hearth, enjoying the fire as well.
It’s simple. Safe. I wish it could last. But I know it won’t.
“I showed Tabatha the photo of my mother,” I start, lifting my head so I can look at Lucas. His hair is messy, with the ends starting to curl. It looks so good on him. I don’t want him to cut his hair anytime soon. Vampires’ hair and nails grow much slower than humans, and it weirds me out too much to stop and actually think about it.
Lucas died the day he became a vampire. Someone drank all of his blood and then fed him their own, the moment before he took his last breath. Dark magic rose inside of him, bringing him back in a sense. His heart doesn’t beat, yet blood—mostly my blood now—circulates through his system. His hair still grows, just very slowly.
“Did she recognize her?” Lucas kisses the side of my neck.
“She said she didn’t,” I start, closing my eyes as I see it play out in front of me all over again. “But I think she lied.” Guilt hits me as soon as the words leave my mouth. Tabatha has been nothing but good to me. She’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother, and I know she truly loves me.
“What makes you think that?”
“She looked shocked when she saw the photo, and it was just a feeling I got. Like she was hiding something.” I let out a heavy sigh. “But I don’t know why she’d lie. If she knew her, why not tell me?”
“I don’t know,” Lucas says gently. “It’s not the first time she’s kept something from you. She knew you weren’t human the day she took you out of that research lab.”
“Right. She was trying to protect me.”
“Did it protect you, though?” Lucas tips his head, looking at me. “Did keeping the fact you weren’t human from you actually protect you? You knew deep down you weren’t like the other witches. Until recently, you thought you were a member of the Martin family. If part of you wasn’t human, then it would have made sense to assume William Martin wasn’t your biological father. Yet for years, you thought he was, and I know that hurt you.”
“It did,” I say quietly. “I understand why she hid the truth them. I might not have been welcomed into the coven if everyone knew I wasn’t fully human. I’d already dealt with a lot too.”
“As a child, yes. But you deserved to know the truth.”
I let out a shaky breath, really wishing I could drown my sorrows and dull my senses with a big glass of wine right now. “Does Abby deserve to know the truth?”
“That’s different, Callie, and you know it. Not knowing who you are isn’t the same as protecting her from a traumatic memory she has no need to remember.”
“You’re right.” I close my eyes, feeling all shaky and it’s not from the cold. “And I’m sure my life would have turned out a lot different if I’d known from the start that I wasn’t actually human. Like you said, it would have meant that one of the Martins wasn’t my actual parent, and I probably would have assumed it was my dad, because I saw the photos of Nancy when she was pregnant with the baby I thought was me.”