She nodded seriously. “Baby.”
Ethan stepped into the doorway, eyes glowing green with pleasure. “How’s my birthday girl?”
Elisa squealed, raised her chubby arms.
With the pride of a lion, Ethan walked forward, lifted her up. She wrapped her little arms around his neck, then kissed his cheek. “Ree! Ree! Ree!”
Ethan arched a brow at me. “Did she have coffee for breakfast?”
I patted her little bottom. “Not that I’m aware of. She’s in a really good mood, though. Probably because you’re so pretty.”
Elisa nodded solemnly and patted his face with one hand, the other hand wrapped tightly around his House medal. “Pretty.”
Ethan chomped at her hand, and she laughed wildly, swinging her head around.
“Not as pretty as Elisa or Mommy,” he said.
I grinned, always amused to hear a four-hundred-year-old vampire call me “Mommy.” And still awed that it had happened. That we’d conceived her, that my body had been able to nurture her, and that we’d brought her into the world.
It hadn’t been a perfect journey. The “morning” sickness (albeit at dusk) had been horrific, the cravings completely bizarre, and, at the end, labor that had to be halted twice when the sun rose. And there’d been a moment of complete and utter terror when we’d thought we’d lost her. Even now, when she was healthy and happy and here, the memory made my body clench with fear.
She was the first vampire child in history—the only vampire born of vampires. But more important, most important, she was ours. She had been born of love, and born into a House of vampires who loved her nearly as much as we did. She was part of me, and part of Ethan, and so much her own person. I loved her more than I’d have thought possible.
I owed my life to Ethan, and I gave him my heart. And now Elisa held them both.
• • •
We headed to the House’s first floor with a diaper bag; the House was big enough that it was faster and simpler than traversing it every time Elisa needed a diaper or clothes change. Which was often. I liked to joke that she was the only person who could throw up on one of Ethan’s expensive custom suits and live to tell the tale. There wasn’t a vampire in the House who wasn’t wrapped around her tiny little finger.
As far as we could tell, she hadn’t been negatively affected by the magic that made her. She was usually hungry, and had a quick temper, but those seemed perfectly explainable by biology and genetics, no magic required.
Mallory, Catcher, and Lulu sat on the couch in Ethan’s office, Lulu nestled in her mother’s arms. She was a tiny pale doll of a thing, except for the head of thick dark hair she’d been born with. Mallory had put a tiny polka-dot bow in it today.
“Hi, Elisa,” Catcher said.
“Catch!”
Elisa didn’t have a shy bone in her body.
I walked over, pressed a gentle kiss to Lulu’s forehead. “How’s the World’s Tiniest Yeti today?”
“Uninterested in sleep,” Mallory said with a yawn. There were circles under her eyes, and Catcher didn’t look much better. “I’ll give her to you for a dollar.”
“I will take you up on that temporarily,” I said, carefully taking the tiny package and sitting on the floor at their feet. Every newborn was tiny, but there was always something surreal about holding a creature so tiny, so delicate. She looked up at me, blinked Mallory’s blue eyes.
“Hi, baby Lulu.”
She blinked again, her lashes nearly as thick and long as her hair.
“You’re going to be on the porch with a rifle when she’s old enough,” I told Catcher, brushing her hair back.
“Like he’s going to be any different,” Catcher said, gesturing to Ethan, who was kissing the palms Elisa held out to him.
“Aspen stakes, but probably, yeah. Although I’d think you’d have to be pretty brave to call on the daughter of a Master vampire.”
“Especially the only daughter of a Master vampire,” Mallory said. “Her suitor is gonna have to come correct real quick.”
“That’s a good girl,” Ethan said as she squirmed in his arms. “Do you want to say hello to Lulu?”