What’s New Pussycat(71)

Now she rolled her eyes. A law. Of course there was a law. There was always a law, a rule, a bullshit reason why you couldn’t just live your life when you were paranormal. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

Dianna gripped her hand. “Your father told me he’d kill me if I ever left him, and in the world of a familiar, he could have done it and been well within his rights,” she replied, her voice hitching, the fear in it so very real.

Clearly, today was the day of bombshells. “So you were afraid.”

“I was terrified. But it wasn’t just your father I was afraid of, Martine. It was your grandfather, too. He hated the idea of your father marrying me. He knew there was no way out once the deed was done. But he would have loved an excuse to kill me. If I left and took you with me, he would have helped your father hunt me down, Martine, and there was no way on earth I was leaving you in their hands. I had to protect you at all costs.”

Who was this man? This man she’d never even heard mentioned in polite conversation. “Who is my grandfather? Who is this son of a bitch who has such a hold on you?”

A tear slipped from her mother’s eye. One lone, salty tear when she answered, “Escobar. Escobar is your grandfather.”





Chapter Seventeen

Martine’s eyes went wide, the wind knocked out of her.

Escobar? This man who’d kept her hostage for six months, had used her countless times to enter the realm and steal for him, was related to her? Her actual flesh and blood?

Add in Gavin and it was like finding out Charlie Manson was your long lost relative. “Escobar is my grandfather?”

Dianna reached up to cup her cheek, her fingers trembling. “I know this is too much all at once, but I need you to understand why I did what I did, Martine. I did it to protect you. It’s why I sent you away so long ago. Why I wouldn’t have any contact with you all these years—because I never wanted you to know who your father really was. Not just the spitting mad drunk, but a man who’d do anything to get what he wanted. I knew what he’d do to you if he knew what you could do, especially with your grandfather egging him on. Your father was always trying to prove something to him. If they’d known what you were capable of, I shudder to imagine the chaos…So when I found out Escobar had you—”

“You knew he was holding me hostage?” she squeaked out.

Dianna’s shoulders sagged. “Not until just a few weeks ago, and I only found out because of one of Gavin’s drunken tirades. That Escobar trusted him to keep a secret as big as kidnapping you is ludicrous. He knows what your father is like after a twelve pack.”

That’s when it hit her—hit her hard. Martine’s eyes widened, her throat tight. She gripped Dianna’s hands and asked, “It was you who rescued me, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she offered, her voice low and hushed. “The moment I found out what your father had done, I came and got you. I can’t explain why I left you in a Dumpster at a 7-Eleven, but there was this voice in my head that told me everything would work out if I just listened to it, and anything was better than leaving you in Escobar’s clutches. If I hadn’t taken you, he would have drained you and killed you. I couldn’t let that happen, Martine. Wouldn’t.”

Martine’s head dropped low as she fought tears. This news changed everything. Her mother wasn’t a weak coward. She was amazing, and so much stronger than Martine had ever given her credit for. This had happened for a reason, all of it—right down to dumping her at the 7-Eleven.

Still, she had to say the words out loud. “So all those years with my father—all this time…it was for me?”

Dianna lifted her chin, her face streaked with tears. “Yes. I was terrified Escobar and your father would find out about who I am and what you can do—so rather than risk your safety, I decided to keep my enemy close,” she said on a sob.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.” She pulled her mother into a hug, inhaling her scent, letting it soothe her.

Dianna patted her back and sniffed. “But some good did come of it, because you found a big, handsome man to spend the rest of your life with. He loves you, Martine. He doesn’t know that’s what it’s called yet, but that’s what it is. Don’t hide from what you’re feeling because of the example your father and I set. I know that’s what you’re doing, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Let yourself feel what I know deep down inside you’re feeling for him—and explore it, take your time while you do it, but don’t walk away until you do. Please.”