When we didn’t go upstairs to see my mother, but continued down a narrow hall under the basement, I was surprised to discover she was in the equivalent of a vampire holding cell.
“Why?” I asked. “Isn’t she over her bloodlust for humans yet?”
“It’s for her protection,” Bones replied in a clipped tone. “She’s tried to harm herself. Repeatedly.”
Oh no. I tried to brace myself as Bones nodded to the guard outside a steel door, and we were let in.
My mother sat in the corner of the small room. From the looks of her, she hadn’t showered or changed clothes, either. Her long brown hair was streaked with blood and dirt, as was the rest of her. She didn’t even glance up to see who’d entered the room.
“Mom,” I said softly. “It’s Catherine.”
That picked her head up. I gasped to see brightly glowing green eyes fixed on me and the hint of fangs under her lip as she spoke.
“If you ever loved me, tell me you’re here to kill me, because I cannot live like this.”
My hands fisted while pain seared its way into my heart. “I’m so sorry for what happened,” I began, never feeling more helpless, “but you can—”
“Can what?” her voice lashed out. “Live as a murderer? I killed people, Catherine! I ripped into their throats and murdered them while they fought to get away. I can’t live with that!”
It was only my rage that kept me from bursting into tears. That bastard Gregor put people in with my mother after he’d changed her, knowing what would happen. No new vampire could keep from drinking someone to death while in the first craze of blood hunger. If Bones hadn’t already been dead, I’d have killed him myself several times over when caught in the grips of my own hunger.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I tried desperately.
She looked away in disgust. “You don’t understand.”
“I do.”
Bones’s measured tone made my mother look up. “I understand exactly,” he went on. “Ian changed me against my will, drinking me to death while I tried to fight him off. Then I awoke in a burial ground with a young man in my arms, the poor lad’s throat chewed open and the most wonderful taste in my mouth. That happened six more times until I controlled my hunger enough not to kill, and believe me, Justina, I hated myself more each time. Yet I survived, and you will, too.”
“I don’t want to survive,” she shot back, standing now. “It’s my choice, and I refuse to live this way!”
“Rodney believed in you.” My voice choked at the memory of my lost friend. “He said if we could get you back, you’d make it. No matter what had happened to you.”
“Rodney’s dead,” she replied, pink tears glittering in her eyes.
Before I could blink, Bones hauled my mother up by her shirt, her feet dangling several inches off the ground.
“Rodney was six years old when I found him, orphaned and starving in the streets of Poland. I raised him, loved him, then helped turn him into a ghoul—all a century before you were even born. He died saving you, so you will not disrespect his sacrifice by killing yourself. I don’t care if you hate what you are every bloody day for the rest of your life, you’re going to live because Rodney’s earned that. Do you understand me?”
Bones gave her a shake, then dropped her. She staggered as she fell, but I couldn’t bring myself to reprimand Bones. The pain in his voice had been too raw, too deep.
The door opened, and Spade came in. He looked as haggard as I felt, his normally teasing tiger-colored gaze bleak and hard.
“Gregor’s alive, and he’s decided to accept your challenge. He’ll be here tomorrow night.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. Why now? Why so soon after this last devastating blow?
Of course, that was probably why Gregor had done it, hoping to capitalize on Bones’s grief over losing his friend. Or maybe Gregor’s ego couldn’t stand the fact that soon, everyone would know Bones had snatched my mother out from under him in addition to keeping his wife. Gregor’s greatest weakness is his pride, Vlad had said. Maybe Gregor’s pride couldn’t handle the repeated blows it had been dealt.
“Tomorrow, then,” Bones agreed.
“What’s the challenge?” my mother asked.
“A fight to the death,” Bones replied shortly.
My mother was still sprawled on the floor, but a different look grew in her glowing, pink-tinged eyes. Anger replaced her previous self-loathing and despair.
“Kill Gregor. If you do, I’ll live like this no matter how much I hate it,” she growled.