Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

“My grandfather would tell a story…” she finally said, still
carrying a hint of her Afrikaner accent, “about an ancestor
from Persia. Centuries ago. A woman named Mahin.” Her
solemn eyes rose, meeting mine. “He said that’s where he got
his black hair and raven eyes.”
My black hair and raven eyes.
“And he said,” she continued, “every few generations she
shows herself again.”
Liquid heat charged through my blood, and I was so angry,
but I wasn’t sure I should be, and even if I shouldn’t be, I
wanted to be, because there had to be someone else I could
take this out on.
How could anyone be that weak?
I tried to understand her position. My father was a
dangerous man, and I knew he threatened her, killed her
husband, and no doubt, threatened to hurt Rika, but…
How do you live like that? In this town, under his fucking
nose, knowing your kid is a mile away, living every day
without you? How do you not snatch him off the street when
he was five or eight or eleven, and just run?
Schraeder Fane was wealthy. They had resources. Did she
have any idea what that house was like for me?
But then I realized, too, if I hadn’t grown up in GGabriel’s
house, I would never have been there for Banks.
Still, though…
Rika looked between us, a confused pinch to her brow.
“It was you at the hospital,” I said to Christiane,
remembering the voice and the comforting touch of her hands
on my face.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she sucked in a breath. She
took a step toward me, but I backed away, keeping her at a
distance.
“I have no use for a mother,” I warned. “Not anymore.”
And then I gestured to Rika. “But I have plenty of use for her.