“In her room,” I say just as coldly, really not in the mood for this.
“Go and get her,” he demands, clearly having everyone jump to when he speaks. Sorry, buddy. Not round here.
“No,” I say and take another step closer to Remiel, who puts his arms around me. I grip the back of his shirt with a trembling hand. “She is staying here, with me. For a time.” I add the last part after a beat, as the green eyes that bore into my head make me want to drop to my knees and crawl under the bed.
“Give us the room,” Dracul barks.
When none of the three men deign to leave, he growls at me.
“Go,” I say with a sigh.
After a short pause, they file out and I cross my arms again defensively.
“I know you want her there with you, but she needs time here with me. I need her here with me. Things are different now. Safe,” I say quickly.
“Yes,” he says slowly and turns to stare out of the window. “Things seem…less volatile since my last visit.”
“A lot has happened,” I say and pour out the whole story to him to his surprise.
“Oh,” he eventually says when I finish up with Constantine’s vendetta. “I see. Yes, that would account for the lack of threats surrounding this area. All Vampires?” he adds, with a scrunched-up nose.
“All who were at the trial…and probably their family and friends,” I add, knowing my husband all too well.
“He seeks to wipe them out of existence?” It’s a loaded question.
I shrug, not willing to speculate on Constantine’s whims. “Regardless, there are no Vampires and certainly no Hunters. Delinda will be safe. I need her here, okay.”
Dracul nods slowly. “I cannot deny that I feel the shift in atmosphere, and I did promise that she could return to you when things were less unstable. But she is settling in nicely and…”
“A month,” I interrupt him. “That is nothing to you but everything to me.”
Dracul ponders this for a moment and then nods again. “Agreed. One month and then she returns to me indefinitely.”
I nod my agreement, knowing which battles to pick. Right now, I get my daughter back for a month. When Dracul returns to take her back, that’s when I will fight again. Right now, I have won, and I am tired, and I just want to hold my girl in my arms and then slap her silly for talking to her father the way she did. “Thank you,” I say, as expected, although he should be thanking me as far as I am concerned.
“I will leave you now, Sister. Do let me know how this all plays out?” The quirk of his lips
tells me two things: one, he will already know and two, that he already knows. I have had my suspicions for some time now that CK is not about to just sit around waiting for Clementine to fall in his lap – figuratively speaking of course. He is out there wiping Vampires off the face of the Earth, which, of course, has massive consequences for our kind. As for the Hunters, I am sure that they no longer exist as a group. This has yet to be confirmed, but I remember from the seconds before Frederick Teleported me out, that CK blew up the building we were housed in. And I mean BLEW. IT. UP. It made the global news in an unfortunate event that was hurriedly covered up by current events in the human World. Nico’s work at its very best. Very messy. But I digress.
I bite my lip and turn to the crib to scoop Thia up. My heart stops when she isn’t there and for a second, I forget that Frederick left the room with her still cradled in his arms. Without even thinking twice, I haul the bedroom door open and walk through to where the three men are standing a short way down the corridor.
“Where is Thia?” I ask immediately.
“Marguerite took her in there to feed,” he says quickly, pointing to the room she used to be in. “She was fidgety.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, pulling at the hem of my sweatshirt awkwardly. I now realize I am outside of the four walls I have grown accustomed to and it is making me sweat. I am about to make my excuses and duck back into my bedroom when suddenly, Marguerite comes flying out of Thia’s room, smashing through the door, sending bits of wood flying everywhere, and landing in a heap at my feet in a disheveled mess.
“Aaaah!” she squeals, covering her head with her hands and she recovers and dives for cover.
“What the fuck?” I ask staring at her cowering at my feet, and then send myself ducking for cover as a stream of fire emanates from the room, followed by a second stream, which has the men scattering as well.
“Why is she angry?” I shout over the cacophony of splintering glass and the shouts of all being targeted by my infant daughter.
“I don’t know!” Marguerite yells back. “She was fine and then she just got…pissed for some reason.”
“Right,” I mutter and steel myself to go in there and try not to get set on fire. I recall how that feels and it ain’t pretty. I can’t help the hand that goes up to my cropped locks and with a grimace, I crawl forward, but get beaten to the punch by my other daughter, who strolls over to the doorway with a smirk.
“I’ve got this,” Delinda says and slips into the room avoiding the fire.