The Viper's Nest (Kit Davenport #4)(71)

Pursing my lips, I said nothing in response. Smug bastard. He had a point though. What else could I or my guardians do that we just had no idea was even a possibility?

The sound of high heels scraping on concrete alerted me to Bridget’s arrival moments before she rounded the corner to where Nicholai and I waited. Neither of us spoke, but instead just stared at one another.

She clearly possessed the ability to heal herself, as her nose looked totally back to normal. Hell, even her makeup was perfect once more, which suggested she’d been doing a touch up while Nicholai had been detaining me and begging me to give her a chance.

“Christina,” she greeted me eventually and took two steps closer to me. Under a slightly less emotional light, I could see the subtle differences that made us not so identical, after all.

She was shorter than me by a good few inches and much slimmer through the breasts and hips. Had it not been for the ugly-as-sin, tweed skirt suit she wore, along with pantyhose and boring pumps, I’d have said she looked like a teenager. But no self-respecting girl would be caught dead in that granny getup.

Then again, she was over three hundred years old... I dreaded to think how fashions might change for me in three hundred years’ time.

“Bridget,” I replied, trying not to spit her name like it was a curse, but that was how it ended up coming out anyway. Oh well. “You’ve got like... two minutes. So get on with it.”

Propping my foot against the wall behind me, I leaned casually and folded my arms. She needed to understand that I was under no obligation to so much as piss on her if she were on fire, let alone hear her out.

Bridget’s mouth puckered in what seemed to be anger, but she quickly recovered from it and smoothed her features into a gentle smile instead.

“Of course. Did you want to go back inside where we can sit?” she offered, and I scowled at her.

“No.” I felt like her question didn’t really need any more of a response than that.

She heaved a sigh. “Very well. I wanted to come and meet you in person to, first of all, introduce myself. I am aware you have no memories of your life before age seven, so you wouldn’t remember all of the amazing times we had together. For that, my heart breaks because I cherish those memories dearly.” She paused and pressed a hand to her chest like she was remembering those fond memories, and I frowned in confusion.

Who is she fucking kidding right now?

Glancing at Nicholai, I found a similarly confused frown on his face, too, but Bridget was continuing with her story regardless.

“But I also wanted to take this chance to offer my help. I felt my spells on your Mage break, so doubtless he has already told you of my identity. This seemed like a time sensitive matter to make myself known and perhaps tell you my side of the events. I just can’t stand the thought that you’re out there somewhere fumbling blind through your powers and hating me for only trying to keep you safe.” She paused, looking at me with an intensity that made me almost uncomfortable. “Does that make sense, dear?”

“First of all”—I cleared my throat—“don’t call me ‘dear.’ I’m not your dear. Secondly, what do you mean spells? I thought there was just the one, the magical NDA, that needed to be broken?”

“Hmm?” She cocked her head at me with a vacant expression. “I apologize, slip of the tongue. Spell. Singular. The magic involved in a binding surpasses anything any one magic user can create, and if Caleb forced enough will into breaking that agreement, then it stood no chance.”

“Right,” I murmured. I didn’t believe her... she was clearly hiding a whole lot of something, but my logical brain had gained enough control that I was willing to see how this all panned out. She wanted something, that was clear enough. But what?

“So, you figured Caleb had outed his dirty little secret, and you wanted to get ahead and leave your spin on things?” I tried so hard not to curl my lip in disgust, but it was a huge effort.

“No!” she exclaimed. “Or, not in the way it sounds. Look, I figure if your temper is anything like mine, you probably stormed out of there without so much as letting him defend himself. Right?”

My eyes narrowed with anger. “Defend himself? There is no defending something like this. He has been meeting with you. My damn biological mother, the only other Ban Dia we have ever heard of, who could potentially help us, despite being an abhorrent sack of shit who left her seven-year-old for dead. No, Mom, there is no defense for that decision.”

Bridget sighed in the same way Nicholai had done moments before. Like I was being stupid. I hated that feeling.

“There is plenty to defend that decision, Christina. When Zelda first reached out to me saying the new Blood Mage had come to her seeking help with his magic and his cravings, I had no idea it was Caleb. I had no idea he was one of your dianoch, I swear to you.” She spread her hands helplessly. “It wasn’t until Zelda told me more about him that I was able to put two and two together from the information Nicky had provided on you. Clearly if I had just shown up, the first thing he would have done would be to tell you. You would have told him implicitly not to accept my help, and then you’d have had an out of control Blood Mage on your hands. Have you ever seen a power-mad Blood Mage before? No, of course you haven’t.” She shook her head dismissively and shuddered.

Glancing to Nicholai, he just shrugged. Clearly he, too, had never seen a power-mad Blood Mage.