Death to the Miracles

Voodoo Child

I'd laid in bed a good portion of the morning after the night I'd had. But I knew I had to pull myself up and keep going for my kids

"I thought you were the one who said that staying in bed all bed was bad for you?" I moan and flip off my husband as he strides into the room. The longer we had stayed in New Orleans, the less Adam had wanted to stay. He, Savannah, and a good chunk of the pack had elected to remain on the farm. We talked regularly and I'd kept him in the loop, he'd wanted to help but the last thing I needed was to lose him.

"I retract that statement. I know I need to get up but I don't want to." Adam plops down on the bed beside me. He'd comforted me through a sobbing phone call after we had killed the Hollow and she had revealed that James was the son of the Hollow. Even thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach.

"I know it's hard, but with the Hollow dead we can finally go back home." I smile at the thought, the twins would like that. But it was after the visit from Alaric Saltzman that Hayley and I had begun talking. We wanted the kids to have a better life, and they needed friends their own age.

They needed something better than what they had right now.

"Give me ten minutes to get dressed. Then I'll go talk to the kids and we'll figure this out together." He grabs my hand pulling me out of bed. I shrug off my pajamas, I spend the next ten minutes getting dressed and convincing myself to keep up a brave face. I tie up my hair looking at myself in the mirror and putting a smile on my face, the Hollow was dead and the day was good.

I walk down the hall towards the twins' bedroom, inside I watch James stare blankly down at his drawing pad. My son had a very active imagination, he loved drawing everything from spaceships to ghosts. "Hey, sweetie, drawing something?"

He turns his head in my direction, for once he doesn't smile when he sees me, odd. "Yes."

"What's that supposed to be? A snowstorm? So... now that all this trouble's behind us, I thought that we could have a chat about what happens next." I sit down on the bed and rest my chin on the top of his head as I wrap my arms around him. "I know that you want to have a normal life with friends and school and art and sports and... Hey. Are you okay?"

My son was oddly quiet. I was fully expecting him to be excited to talk about home or even the possibility of school. Something wasn't right. "I'm fine."

"Sweetheart, if you're worried about the Hollow, don't be. Everything's okay now, I promise." But instead of responding to my question my son turns to look at me.

"Can I go back to my drawing?"

Hesitantly I pick up an old drawing of his and paused. "Sure, yeah." I forced myself to smile and kiss the top of his head before leaving the room. My James was affectionate and lively, I glance behind me and realize he's quiet, he always laughed when he drew. I reach into my pocket to pull out my cell phone, I wanted to talk to Vincent. My son was acting differently and I needed to know why, the Hollow was dead, and yet something still felt off. I walk into my bedroom, the last thing I wanted was to be overheard.

But when I pull out my phone I see a message from Marcel that acts as a punch to the gut.

MARCEL: The Hollow is still out there.

No way in hell

I pull up Elijah's contact and hit call. There had to be a logical explanation for that text and I was going to find out.

"Hello?" 

"You better tell me what the hell is going on right now. What does Marcel mean when he says the Hollow is still alive?!" I hiss into the phone. I hear shuffling in the background, no doubt they were discussing how to deliver the bad news.