The Impossible Demand

The Impossible Demand


The silence that follows Dad's explosive realization about the kissing stretches on for what feels like seventeen years, during which I contemplate whether it's possible to die from embarrassment or if I'm doomed to live through this conversation that will probably be retold at family gatherings for the rest of my supernatural existence.

Finally, Dad breaks the silence by sitting down heavily on the edge of the bathtub next to Mom, his head in his hands like he's trying to physically hold his sanity together.

"Okay," he says, his voice muffled by his palms. "Okay. Let me process this."

"Take your time," I say helpfully, though I'm secretly hoping he takes so much time that we all forget what we were talking about and move on to safer topics like, I don't know, nuclear warfare or tax evasion.

He looks up at me with the expression of a man who's just discovered that his teenage daughter has been making out with the supernatural equivalent of a serial killer and somehow managed to get permanently tattooed in the process.

"You met a vampire who saved your life," he says slowly, counting off on his fingers like he's trying to solve the world's most disturbing math problem. "You invited him into our house. You... made out with him. He bit you. He marked you. And now you're supernaturally bonded to our mortal enemy."

"That's a very reductive summary," I point out.

"REDUCTIVE?" Mom's voice reaches frequencies that probably shatter windows in neighboring states. "Julia, do you understand what this means?"

"That I have questionable taste in men?" I offer hopefully.

"It means," Dad says, standing up and starting to pace again like a caged animal with anxiety issues, "that if the pack finds out about this, they will kill us."

The words hit me like a slap of cold water.

"Kill us?" I repeat, my voice suddenly very small.

"Not just you," Mom adds, her face pale. "All of us. Your father, me, Amy if they think she knew about it. The entire family line."

Amy raises her hand from the doorway. "For the record, I definitely didn't know about this. I would have stopped it. Or at least demanded details immediately."

"The pack doesn't forgive treason, Julia," Dad continues, ignoring Amy's commentary. "And mating with a vampire? That's the definition of treason."

My stomach drops to somewhere around my ankles. I knew this was bad, but I didn't realize it was "entire family execution" bad.

"They wouldn't really..." I start weakly.

"They would," Dad says grimly. "Pack law is clear on this. Consorting with vampires is punishable by death. Mating with one?" He shakes his head. "That's not just consorting. That's betrayal of the highest order."

"But it's not like I planned this!" I protest. "I didn't wake up one morning and decide 'Hey, you know what sounds fun? Falling for a vampire and ruining everyone's lives!'"

"Intent doesn't matter," Mom says, her voice hollow. "The result is the same. You're bonded to their enemy. That makes you their enemy."

"And us, by extension," Dad adds. "We're your family. We raised you. In their eyes, we're responsible for your choices."

I feel tears starting to burn behind my eyes, and I'm not sure if they're from guilt or panic or the dawning realization that I've managed to screw up not just my own life, but everyone I care about.

"So what do we do?" I ask, though I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like the answer.

Mom and Dad exchange a look that contains approximately three volumes of unspoken communication.

"You have to break up with him," Dad says finally.

The words hit me like a physical blow. My wolf immediately snarls in protest, a sound of pure outrage that echoes through my chest.

"Break up with him?" I repeat, my voice cracking.

"End it," Mom says firmly. "Cut all ties. Reject the bond."

"Reject the bond?" The phrase makes my wolf whimper like I just suggested amputating a limb. "But that's... that's not how mate bonds work. You can't just reject them."

"You can," Dad says, though he doesn't sound happy about it. "It's painful, but it's possible. And it's the only way to save this family."

Amy winces from the doorway. "Mate rejection? Isn't that supposed to be like... really, really awful?"

"It's the supernatural equivalent of ripping your soul in half," Mom admits. "But it's better than the alternative."

"Which is death," Dad adds helpfully, in case I'd forgotten that small detail.

I stare at them, trying to process what they're asking me to do. They want me to voluntarily destroy the most important relationship of my life to save theirs.

Which, when I put it like that, sounds reasonable and selfless and like exactly what a good daughter should do.

But my wolf is practically howling in protest, clawing at the inside of my chest like she's trying to escape and run straight to Rowan. The thought of rejecting him, of telling him I don't want the bond, makes me feel physically sick.

"I..." I start, then stop, because I don't know how to finish that sentence.

"Julia," Mom says gently, "I know this is hard. But you have to understand the position you've put us all in."

"I know," I whisper.

"This vampire," Dad continues, "whatever you think you feel for him, it's not worth our lives. It's not worth Amy's life."

I look at Amy, who's been unusually quiet during this part of the conversation. She gives me a weak smile that doesn't hide the fear in her eyes.

"I can't lose you guys," I say finally, and it's the truth. The thought of my family dying because of my choices is unbearable.

"Then you know what you have to do," Dad says.

I nod slowly, even though every fiber of my being is screaming in protest. "Break up with him."

"Reject the bond," Mom corrects. "It has to be a formal rejection, or the mark won't fade."

"Right," I say, touching the mark on my chin. "Formal rejection."

"And it has to be soon," Dad adds. "Before anyone else notices the mark."

"How soon?" I ask, though I'm dreading the answer.

"Tonight," Mom says. "The longer you wait, the stronger the bond becomes. And the more painful the rejection will be."

Tonight. I have to destroy my mate bond tonight.

My wolf lets out a sound of pure anguish that makes my chest ache.

"Okay," I say, because what else can I say? That I'd rather watch my family die than give up the vampire I've known for two days? That I'm selfish enough to choose my own happiness over their lives?

I'm not that person. I can't be that person.

Even if it feels like it's going to kill me.

"Good," Dad says, relief evident in his voice. "We'll figure out how to contact him, arrange a meeting—"

"No," I interrupt quickly. "I'll handle it. I know how to reach him."

Which is a lie, but I can't let my parents get involved in this any more than they already are. If something goes wrong, if the pack finds out, I need to be able to claim that they had nothing to do with it.

"Julia," Mom says carefully, "are you sure you can do this?"

I force a smile that feels like it might crack my face. "Of course. It's just a vampire. How hard can it be?"

Amy snorts. "Famous last words."

"Not helping," I tell her.

"Still not trying to help," she replies cheerfully. "But seriously, Julia, are you okay? You look like you're about to throw up."

I probably am about to throw up. The thought of rejecting Rowan, of seeing the look on his face when I tell him I don't want him, makes my stomach churn with nausea.

But I nod anyway. "I'm fine."

"You're lying," Amy observes.

"I'm always lying."

"Fair point."

Dad clears his throat, drawing our attention back to the crisis at hand. "Julia, there's something else you need to understand."

"More bad news?" I ask weakly. "Because I'm not sure I can handle more bad news."

"After you reject the bond," he says slowly, "you need to stay away from him. Completely. No contact, no meetings, no accidentally running into each other."

"Why?"

"Because rejected mate bonds can sometimes... reform," Mom explains. "If you spend time together after the rejection, the bond might try to reassert itself."

"Which would put us right back where we started," Dad adds.

"So I have to reject him and then avoid him forever," I summarize.

"Yes."

"Even though we live in the same general area and he apparently has a habit of showing up at our house uninvited."

"Yes."

"And if I fail at avoiding him, the bond might come back and we're all dead anyway."

"That's a simplified version, but essentially yes."

I lean back against the bathroom wall, closing my eyes. "This plan has some flaws."

"It's the only plan we have," Dad says grimly.

"What if..." I start, then stop, because I'm about to suggest something that probably qualifies as treason all on its own.

"What if what?" Mom prompts.

"What if we just... left?" I say quietly. "Moved away. Started over somewhere else."

The silence that follows is loaded with the weight of everything I'm asking them to give up.

"Julia," Dad says finally, "this is our pack. Our home. Our entire lives are here."

"I know, but—"

"And even if we left," Mom interrupts, "pack law follows you wherever you go. The mark on your face is visible to any supernatural creature who knows what to look for. We'd never be safe."

"Other packs would turn us in for the bounty," Dad adds. "Harboring a vampire-mated werewolf is a serious crime."

"There's a bounty?" I ask faintly.

"There's always a bounty for traitors," Amy says helpfully. "It's like supernatural law enforcement, but with more murder."

"That's not making me feel better."

"Again, not trying to."

I run my hands through my hair, trying to think of any other option, any way out of this that doesn't involve destroying the most important thing that's ever happened to me.

But every scenario I can think of ends with someone dying, and most of them end with everyone I care about dying.

"Okay," I say finally, the word tasting like poison in my mouth. "I'll do it. I'll reject the bond."

Mom and Dad both look relieved, which makes the guilt in my chest burn even brighter.

"Tonight," Dad says. "It has to be tonight."

"Tonight," I agree.

But even as I say the words, even as I watch my parents' faces relax with relief, I know I'm lying.

Because my wolf is snarling in the back of my mind, a constant growl of absolute refusal. She won't let me reject him. She can't. The thought of voluntarily severing our connection to our mate is so fundamentally wrong that it makes her writhe in agony.

And honestly? I don't want to find out what happens when you reject a mate bond.

I've heard stories. Whispered tales of werewolves who tried to reject their mates and ended up broken, empty shells of who they used to be. Stories of wolves who died from the heartbreak, who couldn't survive the severing of something so fundamental to their nature.

Stories of rejected mates who went insane from the loss.

I can't do that to myself. I can't do that to my wolf.

And I can't do that to Rowan.

But I also can't watch my family die because of my choices.

So I nod and smile and promise to reject him tonight, while silently planning to do absolutely anything else.

"There's just one problem," I say, suddenly realizing a major flaw in this plan.

"What now?" Dad asks, sounding like he's bracing for another disaster.

"How exactly do I contact a vampire who can apparently appear and disappear at will?"

Amy grins. "Easy. You wait for him to show up again. Which, knowing your luck, will probably be in about five minutes."

"That's not a plan," I protest.

"It's more of a plan than anything else we've got," Mom points out.

And that's when we hear a soft knock at the back door.

We all freeze, staring at each other like we've just been caught planning a bank robbery.

"Is that...?" Mom whispers.

Another knock, patient and persistent.

"Oh, come on," I mutter. "This is ridiculous. What is he, psychic?"

"Vampires have enhanced hearing," Dad says grimly, reaching for his weapon belt. "He probably heard this entire conversation."

"Great," I say, my voice climbing toward hysteria. "So he knows I'm supposed to reject him tonight. This should be fun."

Amy pokes her head out the bathroom window, then turns back to us with wide eyes.

"Guys?" she says. "You might want to see this."

"What now?" I ask, though I'm not sure I want to know.

"There are like... six vampires in our backyard."

The bathroom falls silent except for the sound of my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest.

"Six?" Dad repeats faintly.

"Six," Amy confirms. "And they all look really, really unhappy."

"Oh, shit," I whisper.

"Language," Mom says automatically, but her heart's not in it.

"I think," Dad says slowly, "our problems just got bigger."

And that's when I realize that rejecting Rowan might not be my biggest concern anymore.

Because apparently, he brought backup.

This is either going to be the most romantic gesture in vampire history, or the most violent family meeting of all time.

Knowing my luck, it's probably both.