Page 45 of Born Reckless

Which means, distantly, Sigrid and I are related.

Her life continues to flash before me. I see her learning to use her abilities, cursing the bad men in her town, using them to punish those who wronged her. We are watching her life so quickly. I see her live a life at a university, as a normal young twenty-something-year-old. I see her in a home and realize that those are my grandparents. I see her as a young child, happy and content. And then as a newborn infant, being laid in the arms of her mother.

"That is her," Malcolm says. "Your mother came from Norway. Ingrid Erickson."

And finally, after my entire life of wondering, I hear the name of my mother. The Jane Doe that I was found next to.

Ingrid Erickson. From Norway.

"Jon Bonny, that is your father's name," Malcolm continues. "I've never heard of him. Though you should ask the Night Council. They’re well-connected. If they don't know anything, you could always reach out to one of the Houses. If you look hard enough, maybe you will find this pirate father of yours."

My mind is spinning. For twenty-eight years I have wondered about these two people. I've tried to imagine them. And now, I'm seeing them. And they have names.

Ingrid Erickson. Jon Bonny.

A witch, even if they don't call themselves that, and a vampire pirate.

"Juliet, I want to impress upon you the uniqueness of the situation," Malcolm says. And just like that, all the images in my mind disappear. I feel the warmth of Malcolm's touch recede and my eyes open once more. The look on his face is filled with surprise and seriousness. He folds his hands on the table and looks right at me. "This city is filled with the gifted and vampires. But in the fifteen years that I have lived here, I haveneverheard of them having a child together."

Of course.Of course, I am an unholy creation.

Malcolm studies me, as if he can find information about what I am on my skin. "Gifts are typically hereditary. They usually pass from parent to child. Since your mother had gifts, it would stand to reason that you do too."

I shake my head and sit back in my seat. I need some space from all of this insanity. "If you think there's anything special about me, all you need to do is kill me again and look into my past. I'm literally not good at anything but being a screwup. Getting in trouble? Sure. I've got that covered. But anything else?" I shake my head. "I promise, nothing special got passed down to me."

The look in his eyes grows darker, more serious. "Juliet, this is the reason I had Mason go out. I can feel it. I could sense it the second you walked inside my shop. I don't know what you are, or what you can do, but Juliet, you arefarmore than just a vampire."

Electricity races through my blood. The wordsno, impossible, crazy, are raging through my system faster than oxygen. "You're wrong."

Malcolm folds his arms and leans back in his seat. "I'm not. You can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better, but you need to protect yourself. There are individuals in this city, in this world, who would love to test you and see what you're capable of. They would love to try to take what you can do away from you. Just like what happened with your mother."

"I thought you said Archer was dead?" I spit.

"And you think there aren't others like him?" Malcolm says. "He was the leader of his own cult. We managed to wipe out the majority of his followers, but there are definitely still a few outliers out there. They would be all too happy to see what a gifted vampire can do."

It's just my luck. I've already got one man trying to hunt me down. Now a mysterious cult with no face would be all too happy to look inside my brain and see if there's something extra special about it.

"All I'm saying," Malcolm says as he leans forward, his face only a few inches from mine, "is that you need to be careful. You need to be able to protect yourself. You need to be aware of yourself. If you have any extra gifts, they can manifest at any point. Be careful what you let others see."

Fear starts to trickle down my spine. I think of that man with his hands wrapped around my mother's neck and that terrifying light coming from him.

She's dead. She's dead because of what she could do.

Curse weaver. What does that even mean?

"You're in a good situation," Malcolm says. He continues to speak in a low, quiet voice. Mason is not a vampire, so I know that he can't hear us. But still. This is dangerous information. "The Godfreys are as good of people as you could hope for. They would never take advantage of you like others in the city might. But you need to be careful."

Malcolm rises from his seat and walks to the computer on the checkout desk and clicks a couple of things. "It was nice meeting you, Juliet Doe. I mean that. I'm sure we will be seeing each other again. But I'm afraid I have another appointment in two minutes."

Dismissed. Just like that, he dismisses me, on to his next appointment of insanity.

"Thank you." The words leave my mouth as my hand reaches for the doorknob. Hesitantly, I look over at Malcolm one last time.

A small smile pulls on the corner of his mouth. "You're very welcome. Good luck."

I pull the door open and walk outside.

Mason waits there, leaning against the side of the limo. As soon as I step outside, he stands straight. The look in his eyes says he's wildly curious but also exceptionally worried. He doesn't ask anything. And for that, I kind of love him.