Honeysuckles and Blood

Chapter 2: Tamales

Priscilla's POV

“Priscilla," Astrid greeted, “Thank you for coming."

Some servants just escorted both Oriana and me inside. Astrid was preparing some tamales in a steamer for us. I still couldn't get used to the fact Astrid still looked exactly the same as she did twenty years ago before she disappeared out of my life.

I still remember that day like it was yesterday. Mi mama came home, urn in hand, claiming my sister had perished in a violent car accident. It was the way mi mama said it. The finite obliqueness with her words. I didn't believe her.

Only eighteen at the time and mi abuela showed me the way of the bruja. Exposed me to the underground world. I was old enough to explore the craft on my own. I remember asking mi mama what really happened to Astrid. She would never answer the question, but I knew it had something to do with the newly discovered world.

Igniting this desire for answers within me. I knew she was keeping it from me. Same with mi abuela. They knew something, and it was a secret kept very close to their chest.

Maybe that was what closed me off. There was a power in secrets. Each secret as powerful as a spell. It became somewhat of an obsession, especially as I discovered if people knew what I was capable of, they would use me for it.

So, I used secrets as a way of self-preservation. It's been so long now I don't know how to open myself up anymore.

Oriana and I sat across from each other at a small breakfast nook in the kitchen. My niece was doing her best to make me comfortable, and I appreciated her for it. Astrid pulled the tamales out from the steamer bare handed, just like our mama used to do. I thought that woman was indestructible.

As I peeled back the damp husk and tasted the tamales, I bit into the soft, tender masa, the savory slow-cooked pork filling warm and comforting. The spice and smokiness of chipotles. The bite of lime. It took me right home. When things were easy. “You're using mama's recipe," I commented.

Astrid offered me a sheepish smile. “It's a special occasion. Her recipe is still my favorite."

I knew my expression remained neutral, keeping the little warmth in my chest hidden.

It was Oriana who said something next, “I missed your cooking, mama. How have you been?" Like me, the hybrid was extending an olive branch and offering a bridge to rebuild their relationship.

My sister's eyes lit up as she sat next to her daughter, clearing something exciting was going on in her life. “I'm opening a restaurant!"

Oriana smiled, “That's great, mama. You've been wanting to do that a while now."

“Why would you do that?" I asked, the monotone of my voice coming off much colder than I intended. Astrid was a vampire. She didn't eat human food, so I found it a little bizarre she was so intent on cooking.

Astrid took no offense to my comment, shrugging. “I just want to share my heritage. You can't get good Mexican food in Italy. Imagine that."

A small chuckle slipped past my lips at her joke, earning a warm smile from her. “I guess you're right about that."

“How is mama? She never returns my calls," Astrid asked, tucking a wild curl behind her ear.

I shrugged. “She got a little distant after abuela died. I haven't talked to her since I moved to New York."

My sister nodded, looking away from me. “How is it, staying with the Wolfpack?"

“It's fine," I answered vaguely.

Oriana snickered suddenly around a mouthful of tamale.

My eyes shot over to her. “Something to share, mija?"

She swallowed her food, “If by fine you mean that every time you're in a room with Wyatt, it gets super awkward then yeah, it's fine."

“Oh yeah," Astrid concurred. “The whole matebond thing. How's that going?"

I sighed loudly. “I'm not here to talk about a man I barely know."

Oriana wasn't wrong. Every time I saw Wyatt, I was overcome with an urge to say something spiteful. Get a reaction out of him. But he never gave me the satisfaction. Of course, on my tirade to push his buttons, his shifters would usually sneak out of the room. Maybe Wyatt was saying something over the mindlink I couldn't hear.

“You know, we always have a room here if you want to stay with me," Astrid offered.

“Thank you, but I have to respectfully decline," I replied. As frustrated as I can get with the shifters, they were pleasant enough to be around and purebloods couldn't get into the lodge without an invitation. At the villa, it's free reign.

Did I think the pureblooded vampires were out to get me? No, I didn't. In fact, I felt very safe at the villa, but I would rather stay with shifters than get too comfortable around vampires. I used to hunt them, after all.

Astrid got up from her seat, replacing the steamer with new tamales. “I have a whole platter in the fridge for you to take back for the shifters. Least I can do since they're taking care of you." She paused. “How's the build going?"

“Well, Robin is up all the time drawing blueprints for new buildings," Oriana answered. “They poured the foundation for a few cottages."

“I'm glad the ball is rolling. You can never have enough allies, that's for sure."

I nodded absentmindedly. She was right. I burned enough bridges to know that. Oriana finished her food, standing up from the table. She opened the fridge and retrieved the copious amounts of food. The platter was comically large in Oriana's small hands, but she carried it easily.

“I'm going to take this off to the boys before my lessons with Eva."

My shoulders stiffened a little at the thought of being left alone at the villa. “See you later, mija," I answered as she threw me a little sideways smile and disappeared out the double doors.

When I looked back, Astrid was staring at me intently. “What happened to you, Cilla?" her tone dropped seriously, her arms crossed.

“I don't know what you're talking about," I answered. Deflection. The best weapon in my arsenal of pushing people away.

Astrid sighed, the furrow in her brow making her seem her age. “You're different. I hardly recognize you."

“It's been twenty years. Of course, I changed."

She shook her head. “That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about how you tortured and murdered Ciccio Vivace without blinking an eye."

Ah, yes. The Vivace Don that lied to me about Astrid. Used me for my blood and I blindly let him because that meant I would finally get the answers I so desperately wanted. At least, I thought I wanted them. So, when I withdrew the consent for my blood, he melted and burned from the inside out right in front of me.

“He deserved it," I answered simply.

“The Priscilla I knew could never even hurt a fly, much less murder someone in cold blood."

I stood up from my seat, standing half a foot taller than my sister. “The Priscilla you knew is dead, Astrid. Don't act like you know me. You don't."

“Then why are you here?" she countered, not flinching away from me as I stood over her. Why would she? Even though Astrid was smaller than me, physically younger and softer than me, she was still my big sister. She was just a vampire now.

I looked away from her, contemplating her question. “I don't know why I'm here."

My eldest sister didn't seem too pleased by my answer. “I'll rephrase the question. What are you after, Priscilla?"

“Answers," I replied instantly without another thought. I was always after truths. Answers. Secrets.

Before Astrid could reply, her husband, Rowan walked into the kitchen. “Hello," he greeted, giving me a nod. This was the man that stole my sister away. Changed her into a creature of the night. Astrid could tell me how she fell in love with him all she wants, but the fact of the matter was, he was the sole reason she never came back home.

Rowan Romano. A 452-year-old pureblooded vampire that preyed on my sister.

Frankly, the only reason he wasn't a pile of ash was because he was my brother-in-law. There had to be some sort of sanctity in that. The man was clearly my sister's type, but I appreciated he seemed to lack the anger issues that Marco had. Seemed to treat her well enough.

But he clearly knew I didn't like him.

“Amore," Rowan greeted his wife, kissing her on top of the head. I was thankful I was in control of my face, or they would have seen my lip curl at the affectionate gesture. “Where is Ori?"

“She has lessons today with Eva," Astrid answered.

Rowan nodded, “Good. At least she's back."

Oriana was taking initiative. Learning how to control her ancestral powers with the help of her grandmother, Eva. A big step for her. When I first met Oriana, she was in a jail cell, completely misguided and reckless. Now, she had matured into a brilliant young woman.

Of course, it helped Wyatt didn't think twice about taking her in after she ran away from home. He seemed to have a knack for strays. The patience for those who were broken. I couldn't help but wonder if that's how he saw me.

Something broken.

But I wasn't like a vase, in a million pieces with no hope of being functional again.

I was a bone. Snapped, but reformed. Calcified around the fracture. Stronger for it. I didn't need someone to put me back together. I could fight my own battles. My own demons. Realign my own injuries. I didn't need anyone.

Need. No. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want anyone. And I'll be damned if a certain green-eyed wolf didn't come to mind.