Miranda Quinn had lived an interesting life. Making her way on the streets at a young age had opened her eyes to a world of things most people never knew existed. Then her son began showing he could do extraordinary things and was declared a witch. That blew her mind even more. She was sure at this point she could handle anything. Of course, no one had ever told her they wanted her blood to feed Vampires.
That Mr. Whitby knew about Ethan alarmed her, but before she could panic about that, he was talking about the undead. Who had time to panic when their world shifted that fast? Mira blinked in response, nodding every now and then to let him know she was listening, and tried to come to grips with everything he was telling. For the price of what amounted to a bi-monthly blood donation, she would be able to provide Ethan with a better life. It would be tight, but they'd done tight before. Ethan, of course, wouldn't understand. At best, he'd refuse to move. At worst, he'd decide to take her place.
She couldn't tell him. She'd done things before she couldn't tell him. It wasn't his job to know. It was her job to provide the best life she could for her son. She bit her lip and kept listening.
Vampires sounded really sad, when Mr. Whitby put it like that. Made to drink blood to survive, changed against their will... what a horrible fortune. Her brow creased as she thought of her own life. How would she feel if she was suddenly turned into a vampire? Could she be turned into a vampire if she did this? Ethan wouldn't take that well. Could she take that risk?
For her son, she'd do anything.
When he finally stopped talking, she remained quiet for a moment. He made everything sound so reasonable, but that didn't stop her from struggling with her fight or flight response. She rubbed sweaty palms against her skirt, her heart pounding away in her chest. Did she have questions? She could almost laugh at the absurdity.
"Ye-" She cleared her throat and tried again. She was going for cool, calm, and collected. "Yes. I do have a few questions."
Miranda set her shoulders, her chin held high. She was not going to ruin a good opportunity. "What's the chance that I'll, um, become a vampire? And is there any where else where I can have them bite me? I work at a diner and I won't be able to wear a scarf to work. Plus I'd don't want my son to know. He's a little protective."