All that is Darkness

CHAPTER TWO: UNCLE JIM

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you got involved with a vamp."

I knew Mom was angry by the flicker of light in her eyes—that "bioluminescence" thing—and I thought for certain she was going to clock him. I think the only reason she didn't was me, but she swore at him and said, "You don't know what the hell you're talking about. This doesn't have anything to do with that. It's about her. And we both know it started long before I met him."

Uncle Jim's gaze drifted past Mom to me and I got the impression I was the "her" to whom she was referring. He tried on a smile, failed miserably, then turned back to Mom and said, "I'm sorry. Truly. I didn't mean—"

"Forget it." Mom's ire mellowed. "Mallory made a promise, Jim. I've kept my end of the bargain. I've let you guys practically run my life. The least he can do is live up to his end of things."

"He's trying," said Uncle Jim. "But you know the game. You've got enemies. Powerful ones. And the president can only do so much."

"Well, it's not enough. He needs to understand that all I care about is my daughter."

"He does. I do."

"Does he? Do you?"

Uncle Jim looked stung. "I knew your father. He brought me into the PSS. He was a good man and taught me a lot. He taught me what was right, and I'd never do anything to dishonor that. You know that. I know you do."

Mom looked contrite, exhaled and nodded. "Look, I'm sorry for being such a b—"

"Beautiful example of motherhood?" he interrupted.

She laughed, though it was somewhat hollow. "Yeah. That."

"Look, I'm doing the best I can," Uncle Jim went on. "I promise you I won't ever stop."

"I know. And I appreciate it. I really do. But..." Mom didn't finish; just looked at me with concern.

"This wouldn't be so bad if you'd let my mother out," she said at length, glancing back at Uncle Jim.

"That's not up to me."

"The hell it isn't."

"She's dangerous."

"Yeah. To them. She was protecting us. I didn't have to worry about going to sleep at night with her around."

Uncle Jim shook his head. "She's not stable. You know that as well as I do. She killed one of my men. I didn't have any choice about reporting it."

Mom's nostril's flared and a hint of light returned to her eyes. "She killed him because she thought he was a threat. And you don't even know he wasn't. He could have been working for them."

"Maybe. But we can't take that chance. What would have happened if she'd killed some innocent bystander just because she thought he looked at the two of you the wrong way?"

"She's not an animal."

"She's not human, either."

"That's not her fault."

Uncle Jim sighed. "I promise you, we're treating her well."

"A cage is still a cage," Mom said, "even if you make it look like a palace. And what about me? You know there's not much difference between the two of us. It may be only a matter of time before I—"

"That's not going to happen," Uncle Jim cut in, as if he didn't want to hear what she had to say.

"You don't know that. And if it does, what then? You put me in a cage, too?"