Chapter 13

It was my turn to feel faint and a little numb. The blood drained from my limbs, leaving them heavy and immobile.

“You’re Venus,” Vivienne exhaled. “And... you’re my Isobel.”

It was true. It was why I had come, and yet her words tightened my heart like a vice. I wasn't sure what, or even if I was thinking. I was disoriented. This was not what I would have imagined, had I imagined this moment. The woman who gave me life, staring at me as if I were her nightmare come to life. How much did she know of what I’d done? The café, Neil, the forest, her daughter, even her own life, were all targets of my misdeeds. I’d been everyone’s nightmare come to life.

Vivienne’s lips were colorless and trembling. She bit down on her lower lip so hard I feared she might draw blood. She didn't. Instead she slumped back against the chair behind her.

I stared at her. At the mother I'd never known. Stared at her ashy face, so beautiful and yet so weary. Like a sheet of paper faded by the light. She couldn’t bite her lip hard enough to hold back the tears. They overflowed, pouring down her face, saturating her cheeks and rimming her eyes with puffy redness. Soft sobs escaped her in between gasps for breath.

This was incredibly uncomfortable. I could only watch, unable to say or do anything else.

“Move, child,” Brigit grunted at me under her breath as she shoved me aside. “Think you've done enough damage for one lifetime, ‘ave ye not?”

I glanced at her, then back to Vivienne. I receded a few steps, but Viv raised a shaky hand.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Don’t. Go.”

Something in her voice made me stay. Stay, in spite of the judgmental glare of her housekeeper. Stay, in spite of the pain I was causing her. She nursed a few sips of her water, never once averting her gaze. Then with a staggered breath, she found the will to stand and then to walk, stopping only when we were but a foot apart.

“You. You're my daughter. My sweet baby girl. But, how...?”

Questions. Questions I needed answers to myself, not ones I came to provide. So I shrugged, suppressing the prickle of annoyance that rippled through me. I was here to find out what had happened. It was of no consolation to learn she didn't know herself. Unless she was lying, and all of this was an act.

I watched the color slowly flood her skin, staining her cheeks, making her look human again. I couldn’t help thinking her vulnerability should have brought out some remorse in me, some feelings of connection, or a mother-daughter bond, no matter how thin. But all I felt was betrayed. She didn’t get to cry and make a fuss. I had a right to those emotions, to the feelings of loss and rejection. Abandonment.

“I don't have any answers for you,” I said, and she flinched because it came out colder than I intended. “I'm just here—”

“To find your mother.” She nodded, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

This was getting ridiculous. I shifted my weight uneasily, and when Brigit came back around with biscuits and tissues, I took the opportunity to escape.

“I just—” I pointed quickly to the door, “—just need some air.” I hurried out, before either of them could stop me. Not that either of them would try.

Outside, I pulled in several deep, chilled breaths. Inhaling and exhaling. Ignoring the pain as the air hit my lungs. The night air was damp and cool. Silvery clouds blotted out the moonlight, leaving only the glow of the porch light to surround me. Moths fluttered, drawn to the light the way I'd been drawn here. Curiosity, need, impulse, base desire, they were as ruled by instinct as I was. One flew too close to the bulb, was burned, and then spiraled to the ground next to my feet. The fate of all who flew too close to the sun, of all who let themselves be lured by emotion over intellect. While we might have shared a common impulse to come to this very place, I was determined not to share the moth's fate. Run, or stay and tell her the truth. Every gritty, nightmarish moment of it.

I opened the door and reentered the house. Vivienne was in the sitting room, her back rigid and straight. She motioned for me to join her. I stood awkwardly in the doorway, bracing the frame with my hands.

“Octăhvia was my mother,” I began. “A mother who bequeathed me her acerbic personality, a lifetime of lies, and scars from a painful upbringing that left me wishing I'd been born into another family."

Vivienne tensed, and I took a breath, reminding myself to check my bitterness. “I understand this is all very unexpected. We’ll never become a warm and fuzzy family. We don't even have to get to know each other. I only came to meet you. And, now that I have, I’ll go.” I punctuated it with an affirming nod.

She rose quickly and crossed the room to where I stood, ready to bolt.

“Isobel. There is nothing I want more than to get to know the daughter I gave birth to but never got to hold.” She stifled a quiet sob. “Please. You must stay.”

“I can't...” Even as I spoke, my resolve softened. “I can’t stay more than two weeks,” I said. “I'll be missed.” Would I be? Yes. Missed by the insane man you chose to shack up with, who's holding me prisoner in my own world, at the fault of a sister who’s my sworn enemy. A gothic novel indeed.

Vivienne managed a thin smile. “Good. We'll have some time then. What do you want to do while you're here? Is there anything you'd like to see? To experience?”

She was so eager that I felt obliged to come up with an answer. And a proper one. I heard myself answering, “Everyday life. I've never been here, as a simple human before.” I’d spent time in their world many times before, but never without an agenda.

She winced, most likely recalling my last visit, but then her expression brightened. “Then you should experience it. All of it. Hang out at the high school, take part in the choral competitions, if that interests you. Get to know the town. I'm sure some of Lorelei’s friends would be happy to show you around. Especially Abby.”

I'm sure they would not be, Abby least of all, but I smiled in agreement. “I'm sure they will.”

She took hold of my hand with both of hers, then she noticed the scarring. “You know Lorelei, she could help with that. She’s a very gifted healer.”

I pulled my hand away. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Her lips pulled downwards. “She says that, too. All the time. Especially when she isn’t.”

I inhaled stiffly. She was trying to forge a bond, and I could at the very least meet her halfway, if I truly wanted a relationship with this woman. That was what I wanted, wasn’t it? Why I’d come? It was my chance to make a positive impression to blot out the negative one. Though her bringing up my sister every second breath was not making it easy.

I decided not to squander any opportunity presented, so I said, “You know, I’d rather not discuss her. I understand she has importance to you that I’ve never had, but—” I stopped talking when I noticed her eyes swelling with tears. “What? What is it?” I felt oddly irritated by her reaction.

“You are important to me, Isobel. I just didn’t get the chance to ever show you how much.”

My body went rigid. This was not something I knew how to process. Darkness. Anger. Disdain. Those were emotions I felt comfortable around. This... this was something else, and it made me want to run. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. I needed to see this through.

Vivienne’s eyes sparked with anguish. A pain so distant and ancient I would have crumbled under the weight of her guilt, except I had my own pain to manage. There was no room for hers.

“If I am important, then you’ll answer something for me,” I insisted, despite the tremble of her hand and the quiver of her lip. “I just want to know two things. How could a mother so easily abandon her child? And why did you choose her and not me?”

“Choose?” She choked on the word, taking a step back. “I wasn’t given a choice at all,” she said slowly. “It was all taken from me... you were taken from me. From us. The wizards said you were brought to Noctria for your protection. Something about a prophecy they had to guard against. We fought and tried to get you back, but all our lives were threatened. Our only choice was to flee back to the human world or risk losing Lorelei as well. I couldn’t bear...”

More tears welled up and trickled down her face. I waited for her to collect herself and continue.

“I planned to convince my mother to help get you back, but not even a powerful witch could help. And she was not on my side in the matter."

As much as I wanted to believe her, I had no idea how to grasp what she was telling me. There wasn't a precedent for a scenario like ours. Even though my life story was equally bizarre, I didn't know what to do or say next. All I wanted to do was go home. Problem was, I wasn’t even sure where home was anymore. At this moment, there was no place I belonged, and no one I belonged with. I was homeless, and utterly alone. I'd been that way for some time, only now did it seem so unappealing.

“A day after our return, we were told you’d died. And when Oberon went to search for you, to bring you back to us, he died, too.”

I sucked in a slow breath. She thinks Oberon is dead. On a scale of one to a trillion how shocked would she be to learn he’s been alive and well and ruling the Shadow Court this entire time? Hm. Another lie to unravel at some other time perhaps. She looked so fragile, so frail, it seemed cruel to unload another nuclear bomb on her misguided reality so quickly after the first. One ghost back from the dead at a time.

“May I ask you some questions now?” She was tentative, but determined, yet could only produce two words. “How... why...”

Those two questions sparked a torrent of answers. It grew late into the evening, and I was still confessing my questionable behavior. I came clean about everything. Who I'd been and what I'd become. Adrius, Zanthiel, my death and rebirth. What I'd done when I was last here. The cafe, Neil, all of it. I carefully left out the part about Lorelei and I being rivals, and how the husband she thought was dead had locked me in his castle tower indefinitely.

“I know you have more questions. I can’t answer them all, but I will say this. I knew who you were when I came. It’s part of why I came. Because—” I scratched the back of my neck and stood up, moving toward the window, “—I needed to apologize. For what little it’s worth. I did some things. Some not so nice things. And, well, I’m sorry. For all of it.” I forced myself to turn my gaze back to her.

Vivienne sat in silence, taking it all in. Her expression was unreadable, and that just made me more anxious. I didn’t like not knowing what people were thinking, feeling. It left me vulnerable to surprises, usually unwanted ones.

So when she rose and crossed the room, I braced for her to backhand me across the face. Instead she tugged me into her arms and held me.

My world collided in that moment. The enormity of emotion I felt nearly took my breath. I pulled away when it all felt too much.

“I’m especially sorry about the part where I tried to kill you,” I said, nibbling my lip. That might have been the thing I regretted most of all.

She stiffened, as if remembering all the damaging evidence against me. “I don’t think now is the best time to discuss all of that. Your apology is accepted, and as you said, you’re different now.” She shook her head vigorously, as if to shake loose the unpleasant memories. “We have taken some huge steps here. Now. And since the present is all we really ever have...”

She suddenly looked at her watch. “Crap. I have to leave,” she said, climbing from her chair. “There will be over a hundred very irate musicians if I’m not at our scheduled rehearsal in twenty minutes, and it’s a forty-minute drive.”

She seemed relieved to have an excuse to escape what must have been a difficult internal battle for her. How would any mother process knowing her reincarnated child was the devil incarnate?

Her resilience was enormous, the way she could switch into business mode with a glance at her watch. She powdered her nose while slipping into stilettos. Mesmerized, I watched, unable to take my gaze from a single motion she made.

When she’d covered the blotchiness on her face, rouged her lips, and fluffed her hair, she faced me. “I don’t know where your life has led you, Isobel, or what hardships you’ve endured, but I know we can work on finding a way forward from this point. You’re here. And that counts for something. See you in the morning.”

She patted my hand quickly, then bolted for the door, barely remembering to grab her purse on the way out.

Brigit had disappeared as quickly as she’d appeared, and I was alone in what now felt like a very empty and haunting house.

Everything was so heavy. I felt the pressure on my shoulders and chest, as if I were buried under the weight of falling bricks. And I felt sadness—a deep, overwhelming sadness consuming me, and I couldn’t understand why. She's nothing to me. This world is nothing to me. Then why was my body trembling? I felt the tremors in my chest, and I couldn't breathe, and I had no idea what was happening to me. I've never felt sadness this unbearable. Never felt it seep into my bones and stay, like an ever-present ache. Was this what it was like to feel connected to someone by blood? To experience their pain as if it were your own?

I frowned at the family photos lining the walls, and the tightness in my chest intensified. All those years wasted, over some prophecy. A prophecy predicting my sister's fate, not mine. And yet, I'd been the one to suffer for it. For years. The anger I’d let go of returned, and the cool night air was the best remedy. I snatched one of Lorelei’s jackets from the closet and stepped outside.

My brisk walk quickly turned into a jog and before long, a run. Running was my escape, only this time I wasn’t running away. I needed to clear my head. To let go. To forget. To just be someone else for a while. Escape from who and what I was and be... normal. Human.

Just a regular mortal—instead of a monster.