CHAPTER SIX
* * *
I LOVE YOU.
Really? How could she have been so stupid?
But she had meant it. Those moments in his arms hurtled her back to a time when nothing mattered apart from how much they cared about each other. A time when she had believed he would follow her to the end of the world.
All I had to do was ask.
But today, when she blurted that she loved him, his expression was nothing like that of the Damien she said the words to years ago. Then, he had been full of joy—gratitude, even. But today, his mouth had tightened, heated green eyes turning cold. As if she had slapped him or something. And he might as well have slapped her, the way he turned away from her…said those things.
Had he really changed so much?
Was she now nothing more than a good fuck to him?
She paused outside her apartment door, drawing a deep breath. Whatever she went through during the day…whatever disturbing cases and messed up scenarios she dealt with, before she entered her home, she tried to leave that crap behind.
He didn’t deserve that, not him, the one innocent person in this messed up situation.
When she opened the door, Liam was sat on the sofa, books spread out in front of him. He looked up, grinning, the green eyes of his father staring at her. “Mom! You’re back earlier than you said you would be.”
She returned his grin with a smile. “Disappointed, are we?”
He glanced between his homework and her. “As long as you don’t make me do any extra studying.”
She laughed. “It’s only for your own good.”
She pulled off her coat and hung it on the rack in the corner, trying not to think of the walk-in closet she’d owned as a teenager. Being a single mother in a small battered two-bed apartment wasn’t how she envisaged ending up, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. And there, perched on the sofa, a chewed pen between his lips, was the reason.
“Where’s Mary?”
“She’s just popped to the shop.” When Iris frowned, “I’m a big boy.” He straightened his back, pushing out his chest, little nostrils flaring. “And I’ve been meaning to speak to you about that. I don’t need a babysitter anymore.”
Liam’s eyes were huge as he stared up at her, convinced of his own words.
Part of Iris wanted to wrap up this moment and hide it away…stop Liam from growing up and facing the day when he might have to accept he was different to many around him, that others feared him…
She stopped that thought right there. After all, he didn’t show signs of turning yet. Perhaps he would be one of those whose human traits were stronger than their beasts.
Please…let it be so.
She chucked her handbag on the sofa as she took the space next to him, and even as he carried on scribbling in his notebook, he edged closer, his little body warm and comforting against hers. Burying her nose in his hair, she inhaled his soft scent.
She dropped out of college and gave up on her dreams to have him, but whenever she looked into her little boy’s eyes, she had no regrets. But father…he still treated him like a mistake.
The thought of father dispelled some of the warmth that seeing Liam had brought. Interesting how father, whose policies damned others for considering abortions, wanted her to have one as soon as he found out she was pregnant. But for the first time, she’d stood up to him, telling him it was her body, and he had no choice in the matter. He relented…but only agreed to foot her medical expenses on the condition that nobody would find out. Liam would always be her secret.
“How was school?” she asked.
Liam shrugged. “Fine, I suppose.”
She glanced over a head of thick dark hair, at his scribbles. “Spelling test tomorrow?”
“Yes.” He sighed, deep, as if the weight of the world was on his tiny shoulders. “And all these extra classes don’t make it easy.”
“It won’t be for much longer,” she promised. She should be explaining to him why the reformation classes were important, because ignoring how he had shifter blood would not make his nature go away. The schools for special children such as him—those born of humans and the other kind—prescribed the kids medication and trained them in mind control techniques to curb supernatural instincts. The trainers had years of experience, and if Iris missed signs of Liam’s beast rising, they would spot them.
No. It will never come to that. His beast won’t rise.
Like all such children, Liam was registered in a central database when he was born, part of a procedure set up by the government when many flaunted the unofficial agreement made with supernaturals—that humans and the other kind would not procreate. The registration meant authorities could follow Liam’s progress and ensure he displayed no non-human traits. Iris had fought against it, because who knew what the organization Vigil, hired by the government to monitor such children, might do the day his beast arose? But when faced with the threat of having Liam taken away, she gave in. Just like she did when Liam turned three, and she received a notice from Vigil, telling her to send Liam for an assessment so he could be referred to an appropriate institute.
She was too weak to fight the authorities at the time, and as Liam grew older, she began to think the classes had been the right decision…this was the only way for him to lead a normal life.
“Mom? How much longer do I have to do those classes?”
“You know why they are important—”
“So I don’t turn out like dad?”
“No, Liam, never think that.” This was not what she wanted…for Liam to think there was anything wrong with Damien. “Your dad is a great guy. You know that.”
“Yes, yes. I know. And if it wasn’t for the fact that you both weren’t from different species, you would have still been together…and all that.”
She had never said that to him, but it was probably the truth.
“I know these classes are extra pressure, Liam, but we don’t have any other choice, do we?”
Once Liam had completed the course, he would receive a certificate to verify that instincts of the other kind had been eliminated, and he was fit to live among humans—study and work where he would. Love whom he would.
All the money she made from overtime went into those classes, and they would be worth it if they meant her son would never have to hide from anyone…he wouldn’t fear being persecuted for what he was.
He won’t have to go through what his father did.
“Tell me more stories about dad,” he said now. “And the time when you were more fun.”
She laughed at his words. She’d hidden nothing from him, because if nothing else, he deserved the truth about his father. “Well. There was that time when…”
As she told him a story of how she had spent a whole day with Damien at the mall, watching movies and munching on burgers, she missed out how she’d forced him to bunk off school to do it, or that she’d dared him to sneak into a movie with her, one they weren’t old enough for. As she spoke, Liam’s scribbles became softer. It wasn’t only for her son’s sake that she told him the stories; through the memories, she kept her connection with Damien alive—relived what they shared.