Buttercup (Spell Library #10) - Helen Scott Page 0,46

the bridge of my nose.

"Did you have sex with a demon?" My mother shrieked in my ear. The phone practically vibrated from the volume, and since my mother was a quiet woman, it said a lot that she reacted that way.

"Did you?" I countered.

"Oh, my gods and sweet goddesses, my baby girl had sex with a demon," she muttered.

When I didn’t respond she said, "Yes, alright. I had an affair with a demon. He is your father, wherever he is now. It was hot and intense. and I didn't realize how high my chances of getting pregnant from a demon were. As soon as he sensed something was wrong he took off, stellar specimen of responsibility that he is."

"You knew this whole time who my father was and didn't tell me anything about him?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Sweetie, I didn't expect you to fuck a demon, so it didn't matter. I knew moving to that town would be trouble." She made Silver Springs sound like a leper colony, and her use of a curse word, particularly an f-bomb, told me just how flustered she was.

"I have my own bakery, and it's successful, so it can't be all bad, plus, I just found my mates, which wouldn't have happened if I'd been anywhere else." I slapped my hand over my mouth, I hadn't meant to mention my mates—plural.

"You've been singing?" she demanded, her voice the same high-pitched shriek it had been a few moments ago.

"What? No!" I yelled back, surprised that she thought I'd break our number one rule.

"Then how do you know they are your mates?"

"It feels like it. There's this bond there—"

"Unless you sing for them, you don't know." She cut me off and told me to do the one thing she had forbidden me from ever doing in my whole life.

"Sing for them?" I asked, making sure I'd heard her correctly.

"Yes, when a siren sings, their mate is immune to their song. In fact, they hear it as the most awful sound in the world."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" I demanded.

"So you could go around singing to every boy you met in high school and college? Better not to know and find happiness that way unless you are messing with magic and demons. Before you tie yourself to this demon find out if he's really your mate. Sing for him."

"But if he's not then he'd turn into a freaking drone or something."

"I thought you were sure?"

"I am." I started pacing. How was my mom always so good at getting me to doubt myself? I was sure, wasn't I?

"Then it shouldn't matter."

"Why is my skin now purple?" I asked, changing the subject matter while my brain processed the fact that sirens did in fact have mates, and the only way to find out if the person you loved was your mate was to sing to them and possibly turn them into a mindless, order-obeying, zombie-like being.

"Your father. He was an incubus demon, a high-ranking demon. When you never showed any signs, I thought maybe the only genetic material he'd donated was your blonde hair, but apparently you've slept with a demon, like calls to like. The demon's, ahem, seed, shall we say, reacted to the demon that had been hidden within you all this time. I am assuming that you're on birth control since you obviously didn't use protection?"

"Of course, Mom. I'm not completely insane, even though you seemed to think I was for moving to Silver Springs."

"I just wanted you to come home, I don't understand why that is such a problem for you. Now, you call out of the blue demanding to know about your father and not even telling me a single thing about your mates, not even how many you have, let alone their names or what they are other than the demon. Unless the demon was just a one-time thing before you met your mates?"

"No, the demon wasn't a one-time thing, he's one of my mates, of which there are four. I'll tell you all about them another time, if it's okay for me to call again?"

"Of course, I never intended for this to be a rift between us."

"Do you remember my father's name?" I asked, feeling a little like I was looking a gift horse in the mouth.

"Felix. We fell out of touch decades ago though, so I can't point you in any further direction than that, I'm afraid."

"That's okay. Thanks, Mom."

"Promise me one thing, BC?" she