Her Dark Lord by Mel Teshco

right before her eyes. But for someone to put it into words was like being told for the first time the earth was indeed round. “What made it become active?” she asked, pulling back a little to look up at his somber expression. “She was never sick.”
    “Are you sure about that?”
    It hit her then. “Oh!” She shook her head. “She came down with her first-ever bout of chicken pox.”
    “Ah,” he said.
    And that one word revealed all she needed to know. Never in a hundred years would she have guessed such a simple virus could spark something so complex and deadly.
    “ Kia .”
    At her mother’s voice, Kia spun to face her, only half aware that Ronan had released her and taken a step back.
    Relief clambered within as her mum focused on her. And though Chantal appeared disorientated, physically she looked much better, her skin less pasty and pink tingeing her cheeks.
    “Mum!” Kia dropped to her knees beside her. About to pull her into a hug, she stopped midway. Later was for hugging, when her mother wasn’t so fragile…when she’d be as strong as an ox and likely despising the reason why.
    Chantal managed a weak, wobbly smile. “I’m so glad you’re back, sweetheart.” She grimaced, coughing fitfully for a moment before adding, “And you wouldn’t believe it, but I—I feel a little better.”
    Kia chewed her bottom lip. Oh, she believed it all right. She just wasn’t sure how she was going to reveal the source of this sudden bout of good health.
    Chantal drew in a wheezy breath, and Kia could see weariness hollowing out her face as she struggled to speak.
    “I feel…different though, too,” her mum rasped. Then, as if sensing another presence, her dull eyes sharpened fleetingly before latching onto Ronan.
    He averted his head, and Kia saw him retract his still-visible, blood-tipped fangs.
    Too late.
    Chantal’s face flushed outrage. And with a look of dawning horror she jerked her gaze back to her daughter. “ Kia . What…what did you do?”
    A burning flood of guilt poured through Kia’s veins, leaching scalding tears from the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t let you die.”
    “No. No!” Chantal almost gnashed her teeth with despair. “Better I die than…than—”
    “What, Mum? Turn out like me?”
    It wasn’t without good reason Chantal loathed vampires. But Kia suddenly perceived how her mother’s hatred had clouded her own perspective, infusing anti-vampirism right into the marrow of her bones, shadowing one half of her heritage and an otherwise bright childhood.
    Chantal had wanted her daughter to grow up in as “normal” and “human” an environment as possible. Though vampire blood tainted Kia’s veins, she’d done everything in her power not to taint her upbringing too.
    “That’s not what I meant,” Chantal fretted, white faced and clearly fighting to stay conscious.
    Kia stroked her mother’s cheek, her brow, tears now running freely down her cheeks. “I know, Mum. I know.” But deep in her heart she knew otherwise.
    Maybe her mother would eventually come to accept her newfound vampirism…then maybe she’d come to fully accept her daughter’s birthright too. She sniffled, swiping her eyes dry and feeling one hundred percent human right then. “Everything is going to be all right, Mum. You’ll see.”
    Chantal managed a jerky nod, and with a fitful sigh she succumbed to sleep, her rigid body slackening ever so slowly.
    Kia drowned between utter joy and wretched misery. “You’ll be alive and healthy for a very long time,” she whispered.
    Forever .
    Ronan’s hand settled onto her shoulder. “Kia, leave her to sleep now and regenerate.”
    She released her mother’s feeble hand, sucking in a shaky breath. “Of course.”
    She followed Ronan’s broad back through the bedroom door, the laundry area and onto the back veranda. Cicadas chirruped a faint roar into the still night air. Pine needles, eucalyptus and the faint whiff of herbs created a pungent