The Girl who hunted Night

Chapter 41

"Beatrice" sighed my mother, stepping towards me, I raised my sword and hurt flashed in her eyes, "don't you recognise me?"

"How do I know you are not merely a shape-shifter? Or some other demon of trickery?"

"When you were four years old I gave you a necklace, on the side of the cross it has the inscription 'the LORD is my shepherd" she said, her eyes baring into mine. This personal knowledge was enough, no one knew what the inscription was, not unless I chose to share it. I lowered Katiana, and stood back, waiting for some kind of explanation. "Where have you been?" 

"Away" she answered.

"For eleven years?" I scoffed, thinking of all the Christmas'and birthdays, spent alone until I was ten, and the Fairfax's took me in for the holidays. "You do not understand"

"Do not assume to tell me what I do and do not know" I spat. 

"There is much you do not know" she pointed out, and I glowered, Brendan placed a hand on my shoulder but I shook it off. "Have you come to tell me of your great adventures? How you slayed every vampire in Canda? I heard of your exploits often enough"

"Why are you so angry?"

"You left me!" I shouted, "I was five and you put me in a school, on my own and left me to be raised by people I barely knew, most of my childhood was spent with grudging respect, no love, no loving family! I watched as each child eagerly awaited there parents for birthdays, Christmas, Easter! You know what I did, I sat and watched, as there parents hugged their child and showered them with love and adoration, meanwhile all I got was a card once a year and the occasional visit from father every couple of years"

"Beatrice we had to" she sighed.

"No you didn't!"

"I did not have a choice in leaving you, but I had to, I could not be with your father in case he discovered-"

"What?"

"That I am not a Brannon, the original slayers of Ireland, my father was not Declan Brannon, but Thor Estayj, an eastern worlock from norway, or thereabouts"

"Grandmother had an affair?"

"Yes, she was young and foolish, I did not find out until I almost set someone on fire, with help it was concealed and I was raised a slayer. I became successful, my powers giving me great advantage and at eighteen, I was engaged to your father, my worlock side was most prevalent and I struggled to hide it from him, when you were enroled in school, I knew I had to leave" 

"Does father know?" I said. 

"No, and he never can, he would kill me"

"Worlock's are not treated as such by slayers" I argued. 

She laughed, "My darling, you have much to learn about slayers" 

"I know enough" I snarled, "I know that I was left at Immortalis to be tortured and sacrificed, while the order knew exactly where I was"

"Slayers hold no loyalty to anyone but there own, and even then, once you are missing or assumed dead, you are gone, you may as well be six feet under and a funeral bell rung for you, because that is how slayers are"

I reached for Brendan's hand and took it, comforted by the solidity of him and the silent confidence he seemed to give out. "Beatrice?" 

"What?"

"When did you grow to love vampires?" 

"I do not love vampires!" 

"You seem perfectly at ease with one though" she said.