In the Company of Vampires(24)

I studied the birth certificate. “She was only sixteen when she had this baby. And it doesn’t say they were married. Stars and stripes forever. I’m just . . . I don’t know what I am. Flabbergasted, I guess. I never had the slightest idea I wasn’t her only child. Why didn’t she tell me?”

He took the birth certificate from me and tucked it away in the box with the other two. “I think, perhaps, this has nothing to do with your mother’s weekend in Heidelberg.”

“Even if she was sixteen, and it doesn’t look like she was married to this guy, did she think I’d judge her for that? I have a half sister out there who I didn’t even know existed.” The idea was so strange, I had a hard time processing it. I won’t deny there wasn’t a bit of hurt with the realization that my mother kept something so important from me, but I was more confused than anything else.

“Fran.”

“Hmm?” I realized what he said. “Oh. Yeah, you’re right. This is something I’ll have to talk to her about once I find her. It’s just . . . I never knew. I don’t understand why she would hide this from me. And speaking of that, just where is this Petra person?”

“Perhaps she did not survive?” Peter said, his expression sympathetic as he patted my arm. “I think we’ve pried enough. You will talk to your mother about this later, yes?”

“She must have been ashamed, but . . .” I couldn’t imagine my mother being ashamed of having a baby, even an illegitimate one. “Yeah, I guess it’s not really of vital importance right now. I’ll have to visit the police, though, since there was nothing in the trailer to show us where she’s gone. I’ll drop in on them and see what they have to say.”

“If you insist. How long will you be with us?” He walked with me to the trailer door. “That sounded rude, didn’t it? I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that your mother’s booth was always very popular, and if you were going to be around for a while . . .”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” I said carefully. “My plans have kind of changed.”

“Ah?” He gave me a long look, then nodded. “Naomi.”

“Yes.” I examined my gloves, biting down hard on my lip to keep the tears from burning in my eyes again.

“It was a mistake to hire her, but we were short-handed, and Benedikt swore she would fit in well.”

“Ben got her the job?” I asked, the tiny little atoms of my heart crumbling even further.

Peter looked embarrassed, his gaze dropping as he fidgeted with the doorknob. “I had no idea that he . . . that they . . .”

“It’s all right.” I dredged up a ghost of a smile. “It’s likely I’ll be around for a bit, so I can run Mom’s booth while I’m here if you like. Although I really can only sell the things she already has made up—I can’t make any more.”

“No, no, of course not. But you know the things to say to customers, and you are familiar with Miranda’s stock. It would be a great help. The opera contest that is going on in town has brought in a tremendous number of people to the area, and the Faire, and I hate to waste the opportunity. I don’t like to ask you to tie up your evenings, but perhaps if you could see to her booth every other night? I will pay you, naturally.”

He looked so hopeful, I agreed, but declined the offer of payment.

“She would want her booth open.” My throat closed for a moment on a painful lump. “I just need to know Mom’s okay. If Loki hurt her—”

Peter patted my arm when I couldn’t finish the sentence. “She is strong.”

“I know, but she can still be hurt.”

“Not easily.” He looked thoughtfully at me for a moment before adding slowly, “I would not suggest this in normal circumstances, because Absinthe does not like it to be known, but she might be able to help you.”

“Absinthe?” I swallowed the painful lump of tears in my throat and tried to figure out how a mind reader could help me. “You mean like find out who’s taken Mom?”

“No. She would need a subject for that. She has lately started studying with a diviner.”

“A who now?”

“Diviner. They see things, you know? Tiny things, little bits of a bigger picture, Absinthe says. I don’t really understand it too well, but she has learned much in the last three years.”

“And she could tell me where Mom is!” I said, hope filling me. “I could kiss you, Peter! What a brilliant idea!”

“No, no, do not kiss me yet. I am not that brilliant. Absinthe is not learned enough to locate your mother, but she might be able to see if she has been . . .” His voice trailed off.