Still of Night (Thorne Hill 4)

“You could have brought her.”

We walk through the house and into the kitchen. I need some water before we head out.

“You do not want a one-year-old at a wedding dress shop. Now that she’s walking, she’s into everything.”

“But she’s so cute.”

Abby shakes her head. “Have her for a day and tell me how cute she is.”

“She’s such an angel when she’s with me.” I’m half angel, and the common use of the phrase suddenly feels too jarring. “Anyway, we’re not late. I’m usually last minute for everything too.” I fill up my water cup and take a big drink. Abby grabs a couple pinwheels and we head out.

Lucas arranged a driver for us, taking us to the different stores around the Chicago area. I was able get appointments at a few of the stores, and will be walking in and just looking at the others.

“Do you have an idea of what kind of dress you want?” Abby asks. I pull out my phone and show her and Kristy the styles I was thinking. I go back and forth on something more sleek and sexy or something fluffy and fairytale like.

“You’ll know when you try it on,” Abby assures me. “Whatever you choose is going to look beautiful on you, I know it.”

The street the dress shop is on is blocked off from traffic, so we’re let off the next street over. It’s nice out today, much less humid than yesterday, and I wouldn’t have minded walking from store to store at all. I’m wearing black flats—and a black dress, of course—and have heels in my purse to put on with the dresses.

Kristy loops her arm through mine and grabs my hand, looking at the impressive stone setting on my finger.

“Abigail? C-Callie?” a familiar voice rings out, and my heart skips a beat. Blinking from the bright sun, I look up and see Nancy Martin, the woman who, until quite recently, I thought was my mother.

7

My heart skips a beat in my chest, but I don’t feel nearly as taken aback as I did the last time I saw her. I know now that this woman isn’t my mother. I have a real mother. One who loved me. Cared for me.

Died so I could live.

We had a few good years together before I started showing signs of powers. A few good years where Nancy had to have loved me just like her other children. She had no reason to suspect anything then.

She raised me. Nursed me. Held me as I cried. I was her baby, the last child she would ever have due to having her tubes tied after I was born. She loved me, she had to, for a while.

How she was able to turn off that love, to look blindly to the other side as I was cast out…it sickens me.

She’s not alone, and the two women she’s walking with look at us curiously. Nancy’s eyes go to my hand, no doubt noticing the large ring that’s very much on display right now.

“Oh, Mom, hi.” Abby steps forward and gives Nancy an awkward hug. The last time I saw her was at Penny’s birthday party. My asshole brother slapped me and Lucas grabbed him by the throat, called him out for being the piece of shit he is, and then held him spellbound, making him grovel at my feet.

“Abigail, you remember Martha and Barb, don’t you?” Nancy hides her shock well and goes right into Little Miss Manners mode, more worried about what others think of her than anything else.

“Yes, I do.” Abby smiles and exchanges pleasantries with Nancy’s friends.

“Is this your other daughter?” the woman I think is Martha asks. She eyes me curiously. I’ve always been a subject of interest to those who keep up with the Martin family drama. And being in the political ring, the Martins were subject to the public eye prying more often than not. When I was sold to a medical laboratory, my father made up a story about me going to a fancy boarding school in Europe. I was brought home for holidays just to be in pictures.

And then I went to Grim Gate Academy and didn’t return home without Tabatha for years. I still don’t know exactly how my “father” spun those lies. I was volunteering? Spending my Christmas vacation in countries that didn’t celebrate the Christian holiday? It was a bunch of bullshit, and while I want to close that chapter of my life for good, I also dream about calling him out, spilling all the truth for the world to see.

“Yes,” Nancy says almost reluctantly. “This…this is Callie.” Her eyes go to me, and for a split second, I see guilt.

Good. You should feel bad. You are a terrible mother and horrible person.

“It’s so good to see you, Callie, dear.” Nancy opens up her arms for a hug, but I stay rooted to the spot, arm still looped through Kristy’s. Nancy knows who Kristy is, and more importantly, what Kristy is. She shifts her eyes to Abby, and the fear is obvious on her face. She’s worried about Abby being with two witches. I can’t roll my eyes far enough right now.

“We should get going,” Abby starts. “We have an appointment to go to.” She makes the mistake of pointing at the bridal store across the street.

“Who’s getting married?” Barb asks as she pats her hair. It’s blonde, cut short, and styled up in a way that makes me believe she takes the higher the hair, the closer to God seriously.

“I am,” I say, voice firm.

“Oh, how exciting!” Barb nudges Nancy with her arm. “You didn’t tell me you get to plan a wedding.”

Right. They think we’re one big happy family and that Nancy and I are on speaking terms. They don’t know she sat by, not lifting a finger or raising her voice as the monster of a man who called himself my father sold me to the highest bidder.

“I didn’t know you were engaged.” Nancy’s eyes go wide, but it’s not from shock. It’s from the embarrassment that her friends are seeing this exchange. For all they know, we get along, and me heading out to go wedding dress shopping without her is an insult. I’m sure she’ll spin it in such a way that makes her the victim. How dare I get engaged and not call my mother right away? The nerve of me. I can just see her friends patting her arm and telling her it’s okay, that they have strained relationships with some of their children too and it’s okay.

“Why didn’t you call me the second this happened, darling?”

Kristy makes a gagging noise and looks away.

“Must have slipped my mind.” I hold Nancy’s gaze.

“The excitement of a proposal can be very distracting,” Nancy laughs, and her friends cackle right along with her.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Barb asks.

“Lucas King,” I answer proudly.

Martha and Barb exchange looks. “I can’t say the name rings a bell,” Martha says. “Is he in politics?”

I let out a snort of laugher. “No. Human politics don’t interest him in the least.”

“Human?” Barb’s over-filled brows pinch together.

“Right,” I say with a nod. “He’s a vampire.”

Martha and Barb gasp and Nancy looks like she wants to reach out and slap me. Go ahead. That worked really well for the last person who tried it.

Martha slowly turns and rests her hand on Nancy’s shoulder. Kristy lets out an annoyed sigh and shakes her head at the way Nancy’s friends are acting like someone just told her her husband just died.

“Remember, Mom, you’ve met him?” I force a smile, feeling anger bubble up inside me. I clench my fists and remind myself to keep my powers in check. Michael unlocked a decent chunk of my angel powers not that long ago, and I’ve yet to have anyone majorly piss me off since. “He was at Penny’s party.”

“Right,” Nancy laughs, regaining some of the color to her face. “He’s quite wealthy.”

“Oh my god,” Kristy mutters, having just as hard a time with this as I am.