THIRST (The Elite Book 3) by Hanleigh Bradley (read the beginning after the end novel .txt) 📕

The Mother, Jessamine, takes a deep breath and this time I know Everette isn’t going to interrupt. He’s lost in his own thoughts. Probably trying to work out what is going on between us, the same way I am. Will he decide to keep me? Does he love me enough for that?

I still don’t know if that’s what I want. Eternal life. Forever seems a little daunting.

Especially a forever with Everette.

“You wanted to know about your mother?” Jessamine’s words pull my eyes away from Everette’s face. Now isn’t the time to try and work him out. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand him.

“How do you know her?” I ask immediately.

“Most humans go unnoticed by our kind. They’re simply prey.” Jessamine doesn’t look apologetic. She says it without feeling at all, and I wonder if I should be offended. “Occasionally, we protect them from our kind or the shifters, but more often than not, we protect them from themselves. Your kind have a knack from self-inflicting pain on themselves.”

I should probably be annoyed at her condescending tone, but I don’t argue with her. She’s hardly wrong. Humans hurt humans every single day.

“But rarely, and I must say very rarely, there are humans who surprise us. They show a staggering amount of compassion, kindness, or they show us what it is to be truly altruistic. Your mother was one such human.”

I don’t need Jessamine to tell me how noble my mother was. I’ve seen her generosity first hand. And I’ve seen what it cost her. What it cost me.

“I’m always on the lookout for humans who might make good additions to our royal ranks.” Jessamine takes a bite of her food, clearly in no rush to continue speaking.

Neither Everette or I say anything though. I have questions burning to be asked, but I don’t think that will get me anywhere. Jessamine doesn’t seem like the sort of woman – the sort of Vampire – to be rushed.

“In times gone by, I might have chosen humans for their prowess on the battlefield,” she says with a smirk, “like Kirdem.”

Everette jerks his attention back to Jessamine, taking his eyes off me, and I want to ask them who Kirdem is, but now is not the time for me to get distracted. I want to know about my mum. Not some random vampire.

“Or their strategic mind, like Everette,” she continues, giving the vampire she calls her son a small smile. It’s almost sweet, loving and I don’t understand it.

None of this makes sense. They’re vampires. They’re not supposed to care about one another. And they’re definitely not supposed to care about me. An irrelevant little human. Everette has told me that enough times. That humans are beneath their notice.

But I’m not.

He’s always watching me. Always aware of what I’m doing. Always bossing me about. Demanding my attention.

“It depends upon what I need.” Jessamine is still speaking, but I’m not really following. Did she once choose my mum? Is my mum…

Everette

I’m watching her so closely it would be impossible for me to miss it. That tiny fraction of time where something changes in her expression. A sudden burst of hope crossing her face.

“Is my mum…” She begins, but she stops, not wanting to get her hopes up.

“I had plans for your mother to rule one of my countries.” Jessamine’s face softens. It’s almost scary to see. Everything about this conversation has been bizarre, but that look doesn’t belong on her face. She’s never been particularly soft hearted. “But I was too late.”

Farah doesn’t say anything, but I watch as her shoulders slump. She sits back in her chair, her gaze lowered, tears pooling in her lashes. I’m tempted to get up, circle the table and pull her into my arms. I hate this feeling. Her pain does something to me. Something unfamiliar and uncomfortable.

It’s not just a desire to ease her pain that brings me to my feet, but a need to fix this. A need to end whatever has come over me.

I move to her side quicker than she can see, but she doesn’t jump or react at all as I kneel next to her, taking her hand in mine. Her hand is limp in mine. Jessamine is still speaking, saying something about the night Farah’s parents died, about the cruelty of humans, but I know Farah isn’t taking it in. Not anymore.

Reaching up, I brush her tears away with my thumb. I want to shout at the Mother to shut the hell up. Can’t she see that Farah doesn’t need to hear this right now?

Farah’s eyes meet mine and she looks shattered. Destroyed. I have to remind myself that the Mother didn’t do this. Humans did. Anger pours through me, uncontrolled. I’m more than tempted to leave immediately, just so I can hunt down the human responsible for the pain I can see in Farah’s eyes. Hunt them down, torture them and eventually, and rather slowly mind you, kill them.

“You don’t need to do that,” the Mother says gently, her eyes on me. “I already dealt with him.”

I shouldn’t be surprised that she’s already exacted her revenge. She doesn’t allow anyone to hurt her people. Scotland is littered with dead vampires now, thanks to whoever killed Kirdem. The Mother killed everyone she suspected might be responsible without hesitation.

Lifting Farah out of her chair, I’m surprised when she doesn’t complain. She never makes anything easy for me. I’m not sure what I intend to do. I could take her upstairs. Put her to bed.

Since I can’t decide what to do, I lower myself into Farah’s chair, pulling her across my lap. Her face is buried in my chest and she’s shaking silently, no doubt crying in earnest now.

“Which region was Farah’s mother to take?”

I’m not sure why it matters.