CHAPTER 6 — Family Pressure

 “Mom left rehab.”

Irene stopped halfway through putting groceries into the refrigerator.

“What do you mean, she left?”

“She checked herself out.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

Irene closed the refrigerator.

She had spent most of the day trying not to think about Celeste’s offer.

She had read the paperwork again over breakfast, looked up Ares Valcieri’s name, found enough photographs and vague references to confirm that he was important in vampire society, then stopped because most of what she found meant nothing to her.

Coven politics might as well have been another country.

Then she had gone to work.

Now she was home, and apparently Amanda had decided to add something else.

“Where is she?”

“At home.”

“Why?”

Belle sighed through the phone.

“She said the place was too expensive.”

Irene leaned against the counter. “That doesn’t make sense. I’m paying for it.”

“She knows.”

“Then why did she leave?”

“I don’t know. She said she felt guilty.”

That sounded like her mother. Feel guilty. Make a decision alone. Create a larger problem. Then tell Irene afterward.

“I’ll call her.”

“She’s upset.”

“I figured.”

Belle went quiet.

Irene knew that silence too.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Belle.”

“I just think you should talk to her.”

“I said I would.”

“No, I mean really talk to her.”

Irene rubbed her forehead. “What does that mean?”

“She thinks she’s ruining your life.”

Irene looked around the apartment.

There were groceries on the counter she hadn’t finished putting away. Her coffee-shop uniform hung from the bathroom door because she needed it again in the morning. Mr. Mustard was scratching slowly against the side of his tank.

“Did you tell her that?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“But she knows how much everything costs.”

“So?”

“So maybe if things weren’t so hard for you, she wouldn’t feel like that.”

Irene shut her eyes.

Nobody in her family ever directly said, Fix this.

They usually took the longer route.

“I will call her.”

“Okay.” Belle hesitated then, “And about the rest of the money—”

“No.”

“Irene.”

“I already sent you one-fifty.”

“But everyone else—”

“I can’t do anything about everyone else, Belle.”

Belle went quiet again.

Irene was too tired for it. “I’ll talk to you later.”

She ended the call before guilt could turn into another transfer. Then she stood in her kitchen with her phone in one hand and Celeste’s card sitting on the table behind her.

She called Amanda.

Her mother answered after six rings.

“Irene.”

“Mom, why on earth did you leave?” she asked right away because there’s no point easing into it.

Amanda was quiet for a moment then she said, “I couldn’t stay there.”

“Why?”

“It’s too much money.”

“I’m handling the payments.”

“I know that and that’s the problem.”

Irene pulled out a chair and sat. “Mom, you can’t leave treatment because you feel bad that treatment costs money.”

“You’re working yourself sick. And Belle needs things. You have rent. I know what this is doing to you.”

Irene stared at the table.

The annoying part was that Amanda wasn’t wrong. The worse part was hearing it from the person whose rehab bill was one of the reasons Irene was working so much.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You always say that.”

“Because I do.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Irene didn’t answer.

Amanda continued more quietly. “I can find somewhere cheaper.”

“You were doing well there.”

“It’s too expensive.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

“Then care by staying.”

The words came out sharper than Irene intended that Amanda went silent.

Irene immediately felt guilty. “Sorry, Mom.”

“No. You’re right. I just don’t want you paying for me forever,” Amanda said.

“I’m not.”

“You don’t know that.”

Neither did Amanda.

Irene looked toward the cream-colored folder on the table.

Six months of rehab.

Six months of Belle’s tuition.

Six months of rent.

Seventy-two thousand dollars after taxes.

All she had to do was legally marry a vampire she had never met. A perfectly normal solution.

“I need you to go back,” Irene said.

“Irene—”

“Please.”

Amanda exhaled. “I’ll think about it.”

“No. Don’t think about it. Call them.”

“I don’t want you taking another job.”

“I’m not.”

That was technically true. She had not accepted anything. Yet.

Amanda promised to call the rehab center. Irene didn’t fully believe her, but it was the best she was getting tonight.

After they hung up, Irene sat there for a while. Then she finished putting away the groceries while thinking more about Celeste’s offer.

Irene had spent years building a life that was exhausting but understandable. She knew what happened if she missed a shift. She knew what happened when rent was late. She knew how much overtime she needed if Belle had an extra school expense.

Marrying a vampire lord because he needed a temporary wife did not fit anywhere in that life.

She made coffee even though it was after eight at night.

Then she opened her laptop. This time she searched Ares Valcieri again. Most of the results were useless to her.

Photographs at formal events. References to the Valcieri Coven. Articles written for people who apparently already understood what a Coven head did, though Irene didn’t.

She found one picture of Ares stepping out of a black car, silver hair pushed back, dark glasses covering his eyes.

He looked wealthy, not just well dressed. Irene got the feeling he was used to buying whatever he wanted without checking the price first.

Then again, she’d heard enough from people who were way more interested in vampires than she was. Most of the older ones were apparently loaded. If you lived for a hundred years or more, you had plenty of time to make money and keep making it.

She looked at the photo again.

Ares Valcieri was very attractive. And almost ethereal.

She closed it.

The problem was not Ares. The problem was the contract. Six months was a long time to belong legally to someone she didn’t know. And twelve thousand dollars a month was more than she had ever imagined earning.

Irene picked up Celeste’s card. Then put it down.

Then she took a shower. After, she checked on Amanda through a text. Ignored another message from Belle.

At ten-forty, Amanda finally sent:

I called. They said I can come back tomorrow.

Irene stared at the message. 

Relief came first. Then the increased monthly cost.

Irene went back to the kitchen.

Celeste’s card was still on the table. She picked it up. The number was printed beneath her name.

Irene called before she could change her mind.

Celeste answered quickly.

“Ms. Potter.”

“You knew it was me?”

“I have your number saved.”

Right.

Irene stood beside Mr. Mustard’s tank. “I’m not saying yes…yet.”

“I understand.”

“I have conditions.”

There was a short pause. Then Celeste said, “Go ahead.”

Irene looked at the notes she had started scribbling on the back of an old receipt.

“I keep my jobs.”

“Noted.”

“I’m not moving permanently into anyone’s house.”

“Understood.”

“And I want everything about physical contact written clearly into the contract. Not implied. Not explained to me afterward.”

Celeste was quiet for a second. “I’ll take your conditions to Lord Valcieri.”

Irene looked toward Mr. Mustard. “And one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“If he expects me to marry him for six months, then I want to meet him before I agree to anything.”

Celeste’s voice remained calm. “I think that can be arranged.”