Page 140 of Terror at the Gates

“You are not the child I raised.”

I flinched and looked at her, the corner of my mouth lifting in a snide smile.

“Do you know what’s funny?” I said, jerking my arm from her hold. “Iamthe child you raised.”

“Lower your voice!” she hissed.

I ignored her command.

“But you can’t accept that,” I said. “Because it would mean that you are to blame for the person I’ve become. What would people think if they really knew the pious matriarch of the prestigious Leviathan family gave life to a demon?”

My mother slapped me.

The sharp sting of her hand against my cheek shocked me, yet I almost laughed as I stared back at her. Her eyes were wide and watery, her cheeks flushed with anger. I had hit a nerve.

It was a few more seconds before my mother came out ofher trance and realized what she’d done. She dropped her hand and straightened as her gaze drifted to the crowded room. I was certain she was embarrassed, but only about losing control in front of people, not because she’d hurt me.

No one cared about that.

“It’s hard looking in a mirror, isn’t it, Mother?” I asked.

I left the foyer and headed down the hallway to the bathroom. It was as large as my bedroom and had a built-in vanity where my mother’s guests could touch up their makeup before returning to her festivities.

When I slipped inside, I was startled to find a young woman seated on the bench in front of the mirror.

She scrambled to her feet, hiding a phone behind her back.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out.

I gave her a small smile and locked the door. “You don’t have to apologize. You can keep texting whoever it is you’re texting. I just came in here to get a break from out there.”

And to look at my face, though I could already see the outline of my mother’s fingers on my cheek.

The girl noticed too.

“Did your mother hit you?” she asked.

“Oh, did she ever,” I said dryly.

I pulled off my gloves as I moved into the main part of the bathroom where the lights were brighter. The wound on my wrist throbbed, and the bandage was stained with fresh blood. I thought about unwrapping it but felt it was probably safer if I waited. I just wished I’d thought to bring something for the pain.

My eyes shifted to the mirror. The red outline of my mother’s hand was far harsher under this light.

“Does that mean it will never end?”

The question surprised me but also hurt. I knew the girl was asking because her mother hit her too. I glanced at her and turned on the cold water.

“I wouldn’t say never,” I said, though I didn’t want to make any promises. “But I think we have two options as daughters of the five. We either behave, or we take the beating. I can’t tell you which is the right decision, and I wouldn’t blame you if you chose the first.”

I ran one of the thick paper towels beneath the water and pressed it to my face. The cool water soothed my stinging skin.

“How did you know I was a daughter of the five?”

I smiled wryly. It was a sign of her immaturity that she didn’t realize we all knew one another, even those who were older.

“The same way you know me,” I said. “We are made to be aware. You are Sienna, right? The youngest of the Sanctius siblings?”

She nodded.