The Viper's Nest (Kit Davenport #4)(61)

Cole pulled our bike into a parking spot in the underground garage, then lifted me off with strong hands around my waist.

“You did well tonight, Vixen,” he told me, taking my hand in his as we made our way to the elevators. “I don’t know what the hell Pierre was playing at, but it didn’t work for him. You’re still safe, and that is the only thing that matters.”

His words were fierce as we stepped into the elevator box and he turned to face me, cupping my cheek in his palm.

“It’s not the only thing, Cutie,” I corrected him with a small smile. “But you did good too. Thanks for not crashing us into anything.”

He snorted a small laugh, then kissed me gently. “I love you, Vixen. But people have got to stop trying to kill you, or my dragon will lose his shit soon. He’s a moody bastard, you know?”

A wide grin split my lips. “Uh-huh. Your dragon is.”

Cole growled low in his throat and kissed me again, this time slower, more indulgently, and when the elevator dinged that we’d reached our floor, I was breathless and shaking.

We were silent as we walked hand in hand down the long hallway, and I found myself musing on why Jonathan had tried to have me killed. Something didn’t add up, and I intended to figure out what it was.





22





CALEB





My stomach lurched with the familiar sensation of teleportation as my feet hit the grass of Bridget’s backyard. She had enough runes around the house itself that I couldn’t port myself inside, and this was the only place the neighbors wouldn’t see me appearing from thin air.

Why she’d chosen to rent a cookie-cutter, upper middle-class house in the middle of surburbia, I had no idea. She didn’t tend to answer my questions unless they were specifically related to my lessons. Bit of a hypocrite, really, given how many questions she had for me.

“You’re late.” The petite redhead scowled at me as I entered her house via the sliding door to the kitchen. “You were due an hour ago, Caleb. Do you not take these lessons seriously?”

Trying really damn hard not to roll my eyes, I gave her a tight, forced smile of apology. “Sorry, Bridget. I was helping Kit with some things.” I left it vague. She didn’t need to know the specifics of what was going on in her daughter’s life. She’d lost that right when she abandoned Kit as a seven-year-old with no memories. Sure, she’d helped lately, and I was grateful and all, but… She seemed to have an uncanny ability to spot a lie, so I was careful to always tell the truth. Just... a brief and vague truth.

“Helping her with what?” Bridget demanded, her light Irish accent thickening with her frustration. “If you would just tell me what is going on that has you constantly late for these lessons, then maybe I could help. I am her mother, after all.”

I must have been more tired than I thought, because I snorted in disgust. Usually I was careful to keep my contempt for Bridget under wraps. After all, I did need her help. Or... I had needed it. My control over the blood lust had come a really long way, and I was starting to think I’d be okay without her. Being free of lying to Kit by omission would be an added bonus too.

“What? You doubt that I am her mother?” Bridget snapped, her eyes widening with fury, and I scrubbed a tired hand over my face.

“No,” I sighed. “I have no doubt that you’re her biological mother. That is pretty damn obvious.” The resemblance between them was striking. When we’d first met, I would have said they were identical, but having spent the better part of a month training with Bridget on a nightly basis, I could see the differences.

Bridget was shorter than Kit and more slight. Her eyes were several shades darker than my Kitty Kat’s ice-blue, and her hair was more auburn than the copper-red of my girl. Most of all, Bridget’s eyes were hard and cruel.

“I see,” she sniffed in anger. “You’re judging me for the actions I took in giving Christina up for adoption.”

My brows shot up. This was the closest we’d ever come to actually discussing her choice to abandon her daughter. Most of the time our lessons were strictly magical, with the occasional prying question about Kit’s powers, her dianoch, our relationships... all things I’d deftly avoided answering with any substance.

It was bad enough that I was meeting Bridget behind Kit’s back; I’d be damned if I gave away any personal information to her as well.

“Uh, I’m not judging.” I shrugged, even though I already had judged her for it. “Just pointing out the facts. You might have given birth to her, but you are not her mother. No mother would have left her daughter on the streets with no memories. Did you care at all what would happen to her after that? Did you even give a shit that she was tortured and abused for years thanks to your selfish decision?”

Okay, so I was getting worked up and probably giving her far too much information. But her indignation that I had scoffed at her being Kit’s mother was pushing all my buttons.

“I...” Bridget started to respond, but seemed at a loss for words. It was only temporary though, as her cheeks heated with anger, and she scowled at me. “I will have you know, Caleb, that what I did was for her own good!”

“Her own good?” I snorted. “Sure. You keep telling yourself that. I think maybe we’re done with these lessons.” I made as if to leave the room, but she stopped me.