Page 42 of Blood Vengeance

Page List


Font:  

Sevan is quiet, respectful of the job and of the mention of my past pain while the three of us wait in the parking lot outside the graduate lab. The motorcycle is parked beside my car—the only two vehicles in the lot, thank goodness. Avet is on his phone with Tatik, trying to assure his grandmother that he is doing all he can to locate Cher.

That leaves Sevan and me alone in my car with all the unsaid things.

Sevan circuitously pokes at my childhood scars. Even though they have long since scabbed over, it’s not like I want them touched. “That picture of Zagiri’s parents was intense. It’s horrible when the vampires make the children watch.”

I clear my throat, digging into a wound that isn’t open and bleeding, but never quite healed properly. “The vampires don’t make a point of making the kid watch. They just have no interest in the smaller humans. Zagiri was probably frozen in shock and couldn’t make herself leave.”

Sevan’s reply comes in a low voice. “I looked into you before I agreed to come along on this thing.” She swallows hard. “I saw the pictures of your mother. Not all that dissimilar from Zagiri’s situation.”

I keep my eyes focused on the stretch of nature behind the graduate lab that the parking lot butts up against. “I don’t know why people treat my origin story as if it’s something horrible and special. It’s not that different from most of the other trappers. Very few of us have two parents. Usually, one or both are killed in a violent attack, leaving us either orphaned or sans one parent. Then once our eyes are opened to the supernatural, we go off on our vendetta to set the world right by burying as many of Bel’s creatures as possible.”

“Sure, but I didn’t see my mother murdered,” she argues. “Most of us didn’t have to watch.”

I shrug as if my pain doesn’t torment me when my guard is down. “We all picked up our weapons for one reason or another. It was a long time ago, Sevanna.”

True hurt sounds in her voice. Still, I refuse to look at her. “But when Avet and Cher’s parents were murdered, they went to live with their grandparents. You ended up in foster care.”

I nod, wondering why I keep talking. I usually shut down long before this topic comes up. “Tatik and Papik took them in and raised them without question. When my mother died, all I had was my birth father who wouldn’t take me in until the state strong-armed him. He didn’t want to be a father, which was clear from the way he walked out on my mom and me when I was a baby.”

She exhales. “That’s awful.”

“It didn’t last long, if you can imagine. When the state took me away, Sargis got himself a fake foster parent license and took me in. No better person to be around when you’re a lost kid in search of answers. Sargis gave me plenty of answers, which is more than most of us get.”

Sevan purses her lips. “I’m sorry. And now we’re working on a case where the girl has a similar story to yours. It’s okay if it’s hard.”

My jaw tightens. “None of that matters. I don’t much care for people looking at me like I’m a three-legged puppy. I don’t want to turn my head and find the pity that most people wear when they talk to me about my mother’s death. You can skip it. I turned out just fine.”

I catch Sevan’s nod in my periphery. “Noted.” She clears her throat. “My mother was killed by an al when I was fifteen. I had to go live with my dad, who bailed on us when I was three. So I’m in the Kid with a Crap Dad Club, too. Cheers.” She pauses to give me a fist bump.

I chuckle at her dry sense of humor. “Are you sure we should be fist-bumping about that? I always thought that was a bad thing.”

She meets my gaze with her chin raised, as if she is trying to communicate she is unafraid of the past or the future. “We survived. That deserves a fist bump.”

“How’d things work out with dear old dad?” I ask her, resituating in my seat because, after a weird exchange like that, I am oddly much more relaxed around her.

She stares out the window. “He wasn’t exactly happy to see me, and I wasn’t exactly Daughter of the Year material.”

I glance her way. “Not Daughter of the Year? I don’t believe it.”

Sevan snickers at my jab. “We did a decent job of making each other miserable before I did us both a favor and split.”

We stare at each other for a solid three breaths, soaking in the details of lives lived strangely, hemmed in by hurt that no one ever expects time will bother to heal.

“I’m sorry your mom died, and I’m sorry your dad is human garbage,” I offer.

The corner of Sevan’s mouth quirks. “I’m sorry your mom never got to see you kick ass. You and Avet are fodder for trapper gossip, you know. More than most.”

“That’s because most trappers work alone, and we skipped that particular chip on our shoulders and decided to go into this life together.” I run my palms down my thighs. “And if my mother hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have…” I don’t bother finishing that sentence, because she knows how it ends.

Sevan nods and motions to herself. “Same.” She glances out the window, fishing for a change of subject. “What are the odds Avet tries to con me out of my motorcycle?”

“I wouldn’t get too attached to it. Avet has pretty ridiculous puppy dog eyes when he wants something.”

Sevan chuckles. “If this goes over well, I’ll steal him one, and the two of us can go off onto the next job in style.”

I open my mouth to protest, wanting to inform her that Avet and I always drive together in a car, because you can fit bodies in the trunk and plenty of weapons. Plus, we can take turns driving while the other sleeps, so we can cover more ground.

But then I remember that after this, I won’t be going on to find Cher.


Tags: Mary E. Twomey Paranormal