“Shut up,” Diva said to the girl, and it was as much an order for Bridget as anything else. She didn’t know what he was, but at the moment, all that mattered was that he had drunk her blood. Her blood, that made her both mother and beloved.

She didn’t eradicate free will, but she certainly tied it to her own. When she was hostile towards someone, she didn’t need a reason for her actions. Because her Chevaliers loved her, they followed her.

Walking away towards the exit, Diva expected her boy to follow. She was confused, angry, sad, and horribly, horribly violent. There was no girlish glee to be found in her that night. Saying ‘no’ to Diva was not an option.