Page 46 of Heir of Ashes

“Not at all. It involved mountains of paperwork and legal documents, lengthy court appearances, a great deal of hassle and headache—but the end result was the same.”

I stared at her for a long moment. I had a feeling she was reciting a speech she’d rehearsed many times before. I supposed she always knew the day would come when she’d have to confront me with the truth. I just didn’t expect her to be so emotionally detached. For God’s sake, the woman had raised and cared for me for twelve years.

“Tell me about my father,” I finally said.

“Drink,” she ordered.

I did. I gulped the whole thing down, not caring that it left a burning trail all the way to my stomach. I slapped the china down on the coffee table, surprised it didn’t shatter. “Now, talk.”

“There isn’t much to say. Most of what I know is second-hand. I’ve already told you all I know.” She shrugged a shoulder, a dainty, elegant motion.

“How did he die?”

“He was found in the woods mauled and mangled, and it looked like a bear had attacked him.” She took a sip of her tea, her black eyes never leaving mine. “Although many believe he could have taken on a dozen bears and come out the winner. Some think he committed suicide.”

I thought I’d inherited my black eyes from her, but I guess it was just a coincidence.

“And my mother?”

“I found out about her death on the news like everyone else.” I could tell at once she was hiding something. There was tension around her eyes, even if her posture remained relaxed.

“Tell me more.”

“Not much that I could tell you. You look a lot like your father. The black hair, the bone structure.”

“But what was he? What am I?”

“What was he—who was he?” Her expression turned thoughtful. “I believe that is a question to be answered by each individual alone. You are,” she began, and my heart skipped a beat, “whatever you make yourself to be.”

I decided to come back to that topic later. “You mentioned an agreement with the PSS?” I prompted. This should have been my first question. Time was running out. Tommy’s words about my mother presenting the police with legal custody papers came back to mind.

“Yes. When they discovered the unnatural circumstances around your birth, they tried to claim you. Something about the government owning you, and how dangerous a creature you were. But your mother was my cousin and my friend. And I believed she would have wanted me to fight for you. So, I took them to court. I managed to obtain guardianship until you reached puberty. After that, custody was given to the Paranormal Society for their research and your safety.”

She spoke as though I was a piece of land. God, how could a person fake love and affection for twelve years? My mother looked at her watch and sighed, her expression resigned. “It’s time. You should have never left the Scientists before your time.”

There were footsteps on the stairs. I guess it said a lot about the state of my mind that I didn’t heed her words or pay attention to what was happening around us.

“You have a daughter.” And there. There was the part that had been stuck in my throat.

“Yes. She and her father went out of town this afternoon when I discovered you were to visit.”

“You knew I was coming today?” And obviously didn’t want me meeting her family.

“Yes. Your mixed-breed companion gave it away when he came snooping around.” Her words were but a decibel above the rush of blood in my ears. My inner alarm was blasting away, belatedly registering what her words were telling me and that there were way too many footsteps approaching.

There shouldn’t have been any footsteps.

I sprang to my feet, prepared to bolt through one of the three doors that opened into the room. I cursed myself for letting my guard down long enough to be snuck up on and turned to the door behind me.

But I was already too late. Twenty-seven minutes. I was supposed to still have time. Had Logan lied to me?

I looked at my mother. At Elizabeth. No, Logan hadn’t lied. She looked calm. There was no emotion there. That wasn’t true—no emotion meant her eyes would have been empty. My mother’s eyes weren’t by any means empty, they were calm. She didn’t care.

And the PSS hadn’t come from outside. They had already been inside. If they couldn’t just park on the street and watch, then where would they be? Upstairs. Waiting. With my mother’s permission. Probably even at her behest.

She had been waiting for me, had sent her family away. A surge of fear and anxiety tightened the muscles of my stomach, but I ignored it as best as I could and examined my options. Each of the three doorways had two guards, not counting the ones who had entered and scattered. Some had blue-tinged auras and wore The Elite’s uniform, while the others looked like plain soldiers. All of them were armed to the teeth.

It occurred to me this was the second time she had handed me to the PSS on a platter. I decided maximum brutality and aggression were my only weapons, even though I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. But I shouldn’t have bothered. The minute my talons appeared, I was shot with tranquilizers. Copious amounts of them. I had enough time to aim a hateful look at my mother before darkness descended.