Unedited.
Chapter Nine
Ten o'clock. That's when I got to leave. Hours of processing the scene, talking to humans, discussing details with the coroner, and puzzling out if we'd missed anything. I personally didn't like not finding anything with the TV. The murderer left Roberts' eyes open, staring at it, for a reason. There was something there but I wasn't sure what.
Most of us were convinced this wouldn't be a one-time deal and I wasn't in the right head space to deal with another serial. I had my own shit to handle and not only was the timing inconvenient but my mojo for solving crimes was way off. By the end of the night, I considered kicking this case to someone who could devote all of their focus to it. But this crime fell into my wheelhouse, was a part of my SC duties, so I had to have a hand in it. The faster the Guild solved this, the better for everyone.
It didn't help that the Coven Representative hadn't responded despite both the Guild and Michael reaching out to them. I wasn't holding my breath but it would be nice if this would go smoothly for once.
Vampires and their inclinations for drama.
Whatever.
I was done for the day.
And I could probably eat the whole contents of an all-you-can-eat buffet.
"Geo."
"Nope. Nope, nope, I'm off the clock and my brain is drained," I said as I beat feet for the door. "You are not roping me into discussing one more detail about this. I'm done. Puzzle it out with David and Parker, the latter of which needs the practice. He's been on the job for years and shouldn't be getting queasy at the sight of this stuff."
"That's not what I was going to say," Gregori responded. I stopped trying to escape and he motioned towards the office. "We can talk in there."
"We can talk right here." We both stepped aside as a few of the guys walked by and out the stained-glass doors. "There's nothing so important that it can't wait until tomorrow."
"There's a lot that's important that can't wait until tomorrow." He took a step closer and because of years of instinct and personal training, I took one back and looked at him with wide, chastising eyes.
"This is not the place nor the time."
"We need to have this discussion."
"And I need to eat because I'm bordering on nausea and hangry emotions. I'm not afraid to tear into you right now in front of your men. So, I'm going to go find something to eat with Luke and you're going to go do—something else."
He didn't move, didn't stop looking at me like he was waiting for something else.
That just set me off though.
"What, Gregori? What the fuck do you want? Just spit it out."
"I want to go home."
"Is this the part where I remind you of everything you said to me in Montana? Hell, everything you said on the way toMontana? Do you really want to have this conversation here, now?"
His eyes darted all over my face, didn't even care where we stood, which he should've because people surrounded us and Slayers have great hearing. We were at a fucking crime scene for Christ's sake.
"I want to go home," he repeated. "Tell me what I have to do so I can come home."
Go back and unsay everything you said before you went to bed that night. Change your perception of me. Say something else. Tell me everything will be ok. See me instead of what's inside of me. Care.
"I don't know," I whispered because the biggest question he had yet to answer out loud was "Where's home?" I asked.
He didn't want to say it but I saw the answer on his face. Everything we said and did during the past week stood between us like glass walls though. He saw the end result, knew where he wanted to be but—it was all still there, the hurt still raw. He couldn't go home because we hadn't worked anything out yet and we were dancing around it with hot feet. Things changed and we both needed time to navigate just how much.
"I told you before I left the cabin you needed to think about this. Really think about it. Hard. There hasn't been enough time—"
"We're running out of time," he hissed.
"Yeah?" I gasped. "And whose fault is that?"
His mouth clicked closed and his eyes dropped. This was one of the reasons now wasn't a good time to have this discussion.
I whispered, "That's what I thought. Leave it for a different day. Please."
He nodded and that was that.
*
The body I once inhabited was in the throes of unconscious labor. A tube snaked out of the mouth to help the body breathe, another up the nose to provide nutrients, IV lines were injected in the crooks of the arms to provide medication and fluids. They'd strapped monitors around the lifeless body to ensure the healthiness of the fetus.
A man sat in a chair next to the bed, limply holding onto the body's hand. His misery coated the room like mold, heavy and dark, and it looked like he hadn't moved in a while. Blinds were drawn, the only light coming from a small lamp on the nightstand.
Every time a contraction came, the monitor beeped incessantly with no other outward sign of what was going on. The man didn't flinch, didn't blink, didn't react at all.
He just held the hand and existed while it all happened around him.
Nurses came in and out occasionally but as the sequencing of beeps got closer together, the doctor came in, looking a lot more rushed and insistent than the man in the chair.
"We need to move her," the doctor said. "We have to be ready to perform a C-section in case her heart stops."
The man didn't react, didn't move. It was like he was dead too.
"Phillies."
He blinked and looked up at her, finally realizing someone else important was in the room. "It's time?"
She looked sympathetic, sad. She knew, like everyone else, he'd disconnected and this would only make it worse.
She nodded. "It's time. She's in full labor, fully effaced and dilated. Water broke hours ago. It's time."
He nodded and squeezed the body's hand. "Ok."
"We've called the Vampire. He's on his way too."
"Right." He didn't even look at the body, just let go of the hand. "Go ahead."
She ducked out the door and a team of people came in, beginning the process of transferring the body from the bed to the gurney. They unhooked the monitors, someone took the IV bags from the poles and then on three, the body was moved onto the gurney. There was muscle deterioration and the skin had a yellow, sickly hue.
The body didn't look like me at all.
When they wheeled it out, the doctor stayed behind and asked, "Are you coming?"
The man looked up from his hands, the haunting lifelessness of his eyes startling.
"I'll stay here."
She nodded. "Ok. After we check him over, we'll bring him to you—"
Something clicked and he started shaking his head. "No. I'll—I changed my mind. I'm not staying. I'll come back. Just—" he got up, grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, the misery was replaced by panic, nervous energy that didn't make sense "—page me when he's ready to go."
The doctor looked startled, surprised. "She requested that you be here when he's born—you promised—"
"Just—page me. I'll come back and get him."
He headed past her but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Phillies. I know this is hard but you have to stay. They need you to stay."
"I can't," he whispered. "When he's born, she'll be gone—"
"She's already gone. She's been gone—"
One of the med team members stuck his head in. "Doctor. We need to get started."
"I'll be right there," she told him.
He disappeared and she turned her attention back to the man.
"You should stay. She wanted you to stay. You promised—"
"I'm not going to watch as my son steals the rest of her life."
"Phillies—"
"I can't, ok? I just can't. Just—no."
The man left, taking that image with him. I floated in the dark, trying to process what was going on but then pain seared through the dark, driving me out and up until I became the body I'd seen. Awareness of where I was and what was happening to me flooded my world. My vision was foggy, making the room I was in look distorted and unreal. Panic filled my head as I tried to say something but choked on the intubation tube instead.
I couldn't scream.
"Georgiana."
My eyes swiveled, trying to clear the blurriness and see nurses, unknown faces.
Michael!
I wanted to scream, tear out the tube, but my arms felt like a thousand pounds and I couldn't lift them.
"Georgiana."
Pain seared from my lower back, around my stomach and down my hips and legs.
I looked and locked eyes with a nurse who stood on my right.
Michael!
"You're ok," she soothed as tears dripped down her face. "But the baby's coming, understand?"
I was scared and I was in pain, couldn't focus. Where was Gregori? Why wasn't he here?
I managed to lift my arm for a few seconds before it dropped lifelessly down.
The pain came again and this time I couldn't help but scream around the tube. Someone gripped my hand and when I looked over, I followed the arm to the doctor who sat between my legs.
"I know you're confused and in pain but he's coming. I need you to push on the next contraction—"
MICHAEL! HELP ME!
The pain— "Push!" she yelled.
I didn't know what to do and I couldn't move and I didn't want to be here—
"Push!" she yelled again.
So I did and I chanted Michael's name in my head until I couldn't anymore—
"Georgiana!"
I jolted awake, remaining caught in-between the awake world and the sleeping. A hand gripped mine so hard, I was losing circulation, while another rested on my shoulder. I shook them off and attempted to bring myself around while shaking off what remained of the nightmare. But my stomach cramped painfully and the second I felt the stomach acid rising, I bolted for the bathroom.
I managed to make it to the toilet in time.
I was in and out for a bit, delirium taking hold as my dinner decided the porcelain bowl was the place to be. The whole time, someone held back my hair and rubbed my back. They hummed the same thing over and over under their breath. I knew the melody, it sounded familiar, but because I was half awake, I couldn't place it.
Nothing made sense.
When I finished, I flushed the toilet and laid my head on the seat. My stomach continued to roll and cramp, echoes of the nightmare, making me stay right where I was.
After a few minutes of not vomiting, I opened my stinging eyes and looked at the person helping me.
And it wasn't Luke.
Stray tears fell out of my watery eyes as I blinked a couple of times to make sure he was real.
What are you doing here?
You called. Michael tucked a stray lock behind my ear. So I came.
I reached out and took ahold of his hand, holding tight. You didn't have to.
Something was wrong. I could hear you but you couldn't hear me. And you sounded scared.
My heavy lids drifted closed. I was.
Still are. His thumb ran across the skin of my hand. I don't like it when you're scared. It makes me scared.
The corner of my mouth tugged up. Poor Vampire baby. Finally feeling fear for the first time in centuries?
I wouldn't say that.
I hummed in response and sat there with him, his hand in mine on my lap, until I fell back asleep.
*
He made sure she was completely asleep before scooping her up off the bathroom floor. She was lighter than he remembered, making his worry run rampant as he carried her out of the bathroom. Luke stood with the guy from security, who still didn't look happy about escorting him down.
"You need to leave," the guy hissed.
Michael ignored him and put Georgiana to bed in the guestroom, tucking her in tight, before cracking the door shut. Luke wouldn't mind switching beds with her temporarily.
"You're not supposed to be here."
"So you've said," Michael responded. "Ad nauseam."
"It's time for you to go," the guy said, trying to motion him out the door.
It was three in the morning and Michael had no intention of leaving. Not after seeing the after effects of whatever new torture the Angel managed to cook up for her. She didn't need to be alone right now and though Luke was here, that didn't quell Michael's anxiety.
"I'm not leaving," Michael said.
That had the guy flabbergasted. "Well, you have to. You're not cleared to be here and after your behavior from a few days ago, Lena won't approve of your presence now."
This guy did not want to push him right now. "I don't need Lena's approval," Michael stated. "I'm here and everything's fine. You can go."
"But I can't—"
"It's fine, Sutter," a voice said from the hallway. "I'll handle it. Get back to your post."
The security guard skittered out of the room the second Phillies appeared in the doorway. Phillies surveyed the room after closing the door, taking in the paperwork scattered on the couch and the fact Luke was in his pajamas but Michael was in regular clothes.
Michael wasn't surprised the Security Head was notified a Vampire was on the premises without permission. What surprised him was Phillies' lack of presence in the apartment when he got here. His scent in the room was old despite the dresser full of his clothes.
Phillies dropped his keys into the dish by the door and walked over to the spare bedroom. He disappeared inside for a moment allowing Luke and Michael to share a look.
"She ok?" Luke asked, scratching at a sleep line on his chest. He obviously didn't have time to put on a shirt when Michael came pounding at the door. "Morning sickness finally kicking in?"
Michael shook his head. "That was no morning sickness."
"Raphael at it again with the dreams," Luke concluded, his face going dark.
"So it seems."
Phillies emerged from the bedroom, neutral expression on his face. "What happened?"
Michael ticked his head to the side, considering, but remained silent.
"Nightmare," Luke answered.
Phillies looked at Luke in mocking disbelief. "Nightmare. Then why are you here?" he asked Michael.
He wasn't about to tell him Georgiana screamed his name during her nightmare and it somehow leaked over to the waking world. He was in the middle of going over some research when her screams erupted in his head and he'd been unable to tell if she was in real danger or not.
"It was a really bad nightmare," he said.
"That's not good enough," Phillies said.
"Well it's all you're getting from me." Michael went over and sat on the only section of couch not covered in paperwork.
"What are you doing?" Phillies asked, not liking that so much. "You're not staying."
"Why not?" Michael stretched an arm across the back of the couch. "She's not in any condition to tell me to leave and someone needs to keep an eye on her. Not to mention your brother locked me into an agreement to keep her safe—"
"She is safe. While she's in this building, she doesn't need you."
"Then where were you?"
"That's none of your business."
"It is when her fear leaks through the bond when she's sleeping."
"Still not your business."
"She never explained the bond thing, did she?" Luke quipped, breaking into the conversation. He chuckled when Phillies didn't respond "Then you're in for a trip and it takes a bit to get used to. Should start now, in my opinion, especially if they're both keeping it open."
"You're not helping," Michael said.
"Not trying to." Luke pointed at Phillies. "Let Georgiana deal with him." Then he turned to Phillies. "Don't be an overbearing asshole. She'll kick you both to the curb just so she doesn't have to deal with it. She's got enough shit going on right now."
Phillies glared at him. "I don't need you to tell me how to handle her. I've been doing just fine for six years and I've learned a thing or two."
Luke busted out laughing and it sent shivers down Michael's spine. No humor filled the sound and there was an edge to it only an Immortal could have. "You've been—" pause for a chuckle "—handling her." Pause for more laughter and then cold turkey, nothing. Luke's face morphed into a bit of hatred and distaste. "You haven't been handling her nor have you learned a thing or two. The scars on her arm tell the truth."
And that's when Michael stopped listening because he figured out someone was eavesdropping.
He gently shoved me out of his head and closed off that particular portion of the bond.
The next time I woke up it was to my alarm and a handwritten note propped up against the lamp base.
I missed having you in my head, nosey, but some conversations you don't need to hear. Let me know when you're up and if you're ok. See you at dinner or before.
-M
I tried not to smile but couldn't help it.
I'm awake and I'm fine.
Good. Are you going for a run?
I grinned even though he couldn't see. I will if you have a coffee and bagel waiting.
Deal.
So I got up and got ready for a run. A bit harder this morning because I found Luke asleep in my bed and Gregori asleep on the couch. He'd relocated the papers I had on the seat to the coffee table so he could stretch out. The whole thing surprised me because he wasn't supposed to be here. I knew Luke would be but Gregori—that one gave me a flood of unease.
I didn't wake either of them, didn't linger, just slipped out of the apartment like I did every morning before Gregori kidnapped me out of my office. I'd become a pro of sneaking out in the mornings so he could get more sleep.
The building was quiet as I exited and I made a mental note to get Michael temporary access. I should've had it set up yesterday, but it slipped my mind. I would have to talk it out with Jesse, submit the request, and hope I wouldn't run into any problems with Slayer bias against Vampires.
Or whatever he did when I went missing.
All to be dealt with when I got back.
For now, coffee, a bagel, and a Vampire called my name.
*
I was definitely off my game this morning. It took me a tad longer to get to the park and by the time I walked into the lobby of Michael's building, my breathing was labored.
I stopped just inside the door and waved to a smiling Frank as I attempted to catch the runaway oxygen.
"Ah, Ms. Georgiana. Having a good morning?"
I gulped in some air and nodded.
He continued to grin and shook his head. "Let's get you up where you belong, shall we?"
I gave a thumbs up, just managing to get my breathing under control, and followed him to the elevator bank.
"You really shouldn't be out and about by yourself," Frank commented. "Not with that new murderer on the loose."
"How do you know about that?"
"Boss Man had an important visitor this morning and I still read the morning newspaper."
Ah. "Visitor still here?"
"Left about ten minutes ago."
"Fantastic. Jon still here?"
Frank chuckled. "Yes and driving his host insane, I imagine. Did you know the older a Vampire gets, the more they like their solitude?"
The elevator arrived and Frank motioned me in.
"Then what's Jon's excuse?"
He smiled kindly and pressed the penthouse button. "They also get lonely. Have a good visit, Ms. Georgiana."
"Thank you, Frank."
He touched the brim of his hat as the doors closed. I left my earbuds dangling around my neck and tried not to yawn. I got more sleep than normal and it showed in the reflection of the elevator doors.
In fact—
I tugged up my shirt sleeve and found the slash on my arm firmly scabbed up and itchy. The bruises had faded from the angry purple to an ugly brownish-green. Well, wasn't that interesting? I pulled my sleeve down as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. I half expected Michael to be standing there, waiting, but instead an empty foyer awaited me. His front door was open though and I heard mumbling voices from just inside.
I stepped out but held the doors open as I sent down the bond: You're not dead, are you?
A man dressed in a delivery uniform came out, gave me a cordial smile before disappearing into the elevator.
Trust me.He appeared in the doorway holding my breakfast. If I was dead, you'd feel it.
I fake smiled at the delivery man and removed my hand from the doors so they could close.
"Nosey?" I said out loud.
He shrugged and wiggled the coffee at me. "If the shoe fits, as you like to say."
"It's not my fault I sometimes appear in your head when I'm sleeping." I took the coffee first and blew in the tiny hole. The aroma drifted up and warmed my heart, putting a bit of a smile on my face before I took a sip. I suppressed a happy groan because it was just the right amount of warm without being scorching hot. "Thank you."
"My pleasure. Come inside. I've some news from the Coven about the murder last night."
"Frank mentioned you had a visitor." I walked into the apartment. "I assume the Coven plans to actually pay ball and give the Guild some information?"
"They hadn't planned on it," he said while closing the door. "But then they found out my bondling is the SC, so they're willing to appropriately communicate with you."
"How were they planning on communicating before?"
"Vague email and transference of the case, as per usual."
He led the way through the circle entryway and went through the second doorway on the left. A huge study/library filled this room. So many books. The stacks were divided into two floors and from where I stood, each floor went rows deep.
"Jesus, Michael."
He always said he liked to read but I never thought he kept any of them. The wall across from the door had two rows of enormous windows with a view of the building next door. The long tables you find in traditional university libraries sat four deep on my right and on the left were various groupings of overstuffed, comfy chairs. Michael went over to the first table and snagged the file folder on it. He walked back to me, amusement making his eyes twinkle, and closed my jaw.
"I'll give you a tour later. Let's go to the dining room so you can eat and look this over."
Right.
He smiled and knocked his knuckle against my chin. "You're adorably amusing, you know that?"
I pulled his hand down. "I think that is the most obnoxious thing you've ever said."
He crinkled his nose, thinking. "Nah. Pretty sure I've said worse things."
I rolled my eyes and squeezed his wrist before letting go. "Come on. I'm starving and I actually need you to do something while I eat."
"What's that?"
"Remove some stitches. I think part of your theory about my healing time may have been right."
"Aw. I like it when you say I'm right. It doesn't happen often." He held out his hand and I took it. Didn't even hesitate on that one. He led the way out of the library, back into the circular room, and through the door immediately to our left. There was a long hallway but he took the stairs on the right.
"How big is this place?" I asked.
"Bigger than it looks or so I've been told." An open doorway at the top of the stairs led to the dining room. The left wall comprised of large, clear slanted windows. A nice sized table sat in the middle that could seat at least twelve. Michael placed the brown paper bag from Bagel Bobs on the table as well as the folder, before turning to face me.
He indicated my left arm. "Can I see?"
I'd stopped just inside of the doorway, staring at the view. But that shocked me out of my awe and tinge of fear because I didn't like heights. I blinked at him. Sure.
I held out my arm and he came over to take it.
"It happened—"
"I know when it happened," he said as he gently tugged up the sleeve.
The healing slash came into view and he lifted my arm up to get a better view.
"Yeah. Those can come out." He squeezed my hand. "Let me get my med kit."
I nodded. "Ok."
"Eat." He kissed my temple. "I'll be right back."
Sure.
You keep saying that.
He walked the length of the table and I did my best not to let my eyes travel over his form before he disappeared through the other doorway. I sat at the head of the table where the bag was and dug in, ignoring the call to work and look through the file for now. I didn't like the actual feeling of being hungry. It was one of those weird aches I'd gotten so used to ignoring to the point that I stopped feeling it years ago. But now, my brain had switched all the appropriate sensors back on and in a way, my body felt more foreign than ever before. Not mine. At least not the one I was used to.
Michael came back around the time I finished half my bagel and I had finally tapped down my fear of heights to enjoy the view his dining room afforded.
"Bullet and weather proof," he said.
"Because you're worried about weather and bullets?"
He sat, smiling. "This may come as a surprise but some people didn't like me and if I have guests, I want them to feel comfortable. I may not be overly sensitive to temperature but other people are."
"Entertain a lot of guests, do you?"
He opened the bag and started digging things out. "Not as much as I used to. But occasionally when I have business in your world, I bring them here."
To your home?
Why not?
"Because Vampires tend to be territorial over their safe places."
I'm the grandson of the Devil, Αγάπη. I learned a long time ago it's better to be the spider than the fly.
Meaning you give people the illusion of openness by bringing them here when in fact you're just testing their trustworthiness.
"I like to test my own sense of safety every now and again. Dangle myself out there as bait and see who tries to take it."
He turned my arm this way and that and I tried not to notice all the crisscrossing marks, the only signs the outer world had to my moods.
And underneath all of them was the oldest scar. The one I'd received while in Vampire Domain when his Coven put us through the blood trial in an attempt to force him to turn me.
"He did a good job stitching this." He took out scissors, tweezers, rubbing alcohol, antibiotic ointment, gauze, and a set of gloves. I'm actually impressed.
"He tries," I replied, suppressing a smile. "He doesn't want the incidents in my file so he stitches me up himself."
I know.
He took out a towel from the bag and put it under my arm. He started doing all his medical stuffs and both of us chose to remain silent while he worked. I ate and watched, finding it all rhythmic and calming. But then I took notice of him. He was a tad tanner than I remembered, his hair still pitch black. Classical features of a straight nose, perfect cheekbones, and a mouth I remember loving.
Crystal blue eyes that saw and analyzed way too much.
His hands were careful and steady, sure and unwavering, as he removed each stitch. He killed countless people, Slayers included, with those hands. But he'd also saved people.
Saved me.
Little pinpricks of blood appeared after each stitch removal but he didn't do anything about it until the last one was out. He covered the whole area with gauze and applied pressure, lifting his eyes to meet mine so I knew his hadn't gone black.
"Why does it always come down to blood?" I asked.
"Because it's considered the origin of someone's life." He lifted the gauze and gently blew on the stitch sites. "It's what makes people alive."
"Is that what you think?"
"From a medical standpoint, I know what it does: carries oxygen and nutrients to the body, gets rid of toxins—" he gripped my hand and smiled "—makes you warm. But from a Vampire point-of-view, I know each type has a taste, a scent, an age. A lot like wine if I had to compare and I don't like to because it dehumanizes the person. Blood also holds all the little components of who you are: DNA, family lines, and literally your life force."
"And you changed mine."
He nodded slowly, tracking where I was going with this. "The first large dose only made your blood align to my particular tastes. The second dose changed your blood completely."
"What does that mean, exactly?"
"Are you sure you want to know?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"Most Vampires don't share blood because it can temporarily link us to the person we share the blood with. In the case of bloodbonds, we do it to keep track of the bondling so if we're feeling a bit peckish and only want to drink from a trusted source—" he shrugged. "But in our case, I shared so much blood with you that it inadvertently primed your body for transition. Remember when I told you Vampire blood has a way of corrupting whatever it manages to infect?"
"Yes."
"Then apply it here. That last large dose I gave you soaked into your cells, fed your body like it was a nutrient. Sometimes the effects of Vampire blood can fade over time which is why you were to be blood-typed every time you needed blood. But yours never changed back which tells every Vampire you cross two things: you belong to me and if they attempt to drink from you a) I'll know and b) it'll kill them. Vampires can ingest other Vampire blood but not when it's been worked into a bondling's blood for transition."
"Did you know that would happen when you did it?"
"That's a loaded question with a lot of layers. When it the second dose happened, I didn't know what it would mean. It took me a while to get curious about everything and even longer to piece it all together. It wasn't until I smelled your blood on the ground on the mountain, felt you floating around just within reach, that I knew for certain I was the only one who could not only change you but also be allowed to do it without consequence. The fault lies with the Angels and they wanted to rectify their mistake by forcing us into a pact so we couldn't discover it."
"Because becoming a Vampire isn't in their plans for me. But why then did they include Hanover?"
"You let him try and they didn't want it to happen again. The Angels don't like people messing in their business and they like to remain—mysterious. Our unique situation was a complication and the best way to eliminate that complication—"
"Was to force everyone into a pact."
He nodded and ran his fingers over the scars, seeing straight through all the others, down to the one that almost made me a Vampire the first time.
"You'll have a choice." He tapped my arm. "I won't make it for you this time."
I thought back to Jon's words, when he proclaimed Michael would change me whether I wanted it or not. I wondered if it was true, if Michael could be lying right now, or if Jon simply spoke another one of the possible futures he foresaw. We never know what we'll do in a situation until we are placed in it. So while Michael might be level-headed about this right now, when the time comes, that fact might change. Preparing me for the idea was only common sense.
"Vampire or bust?" I joked.
Vampire or whatever the Angels have planned for you. They don't intend to allow you to rest in peace.
"You caught that too, huh?" He nodded and gripped my hand. So Vampire or Angel's bitch. Magical.
"Consider it. All of it. Weigh the pros and cons."
"Cuz there are pros and cons?"
"To everything." He reached up with his freehand and pulled down my sleeve before pointing at my midsection. "How's the babe?"
The corner of my mouth turned up. "You're the only one who has asked me that."
"Or I'm the only one brave enough to ask you that."
"You're funny. Funny Vampire." I dug my phone out and swiped a couple of times before handing it to him. "Officially two months in and now worrying about all the alcohol I drank."
There was an odd little smile on his face as he looked down at the picture. I had the doctor take it during the ultrasound so I could send it to Gregori when he was ready. But after the dream from the night before, I couldn't bring myself to look at the picture let alone send it. What if he decided he didn't want this? What if he'd accept it begrudgingly?
I was in a coma in my nightmare but I wasn't in my body. Somehow I'd become disconnected, like when I died, and I waited in the dark for the body to die so I could be free. I saw myself lying there, emaciated and being kept alive by machines. All because my body still made a great incubator.
I tried to make peace with that image but my brain kept bringing it back up on my run. I needed to talk about it and with Michael I could without speaking a word of it out loud.
Labor pain put me back in my body, woke me up from the coma, but I couldn't move. Couldn't scream. I had to lie there and endure it, too weak to do anything else. My gut twisted in remembrance, my heart burning because misery had nowhere to go. I don't want that to be me, Michael. I don't want to give birth alone and half dead.
He looked up from my phone and unlike everyone else, he didn't look at me with pity or sadness. Instead a familiar sense of knowing made the crystal blue of his eyes twinkle.
"Then you won't."
"How do you know?"
"Because you have a way of defying everyone's expectations. Including your own."
If that were true then Hanover wouldn't have succeeded in shooting me. I didn't prevent that from happening, how do you know I'll be able to prevent this one?
Because you also dreamed you would drown in an aquarium tank. Pretty sure that one didn't happen. Nor did you die in that ballet studio with blood up to your shins.
"You're way too optimistic to be a Vampire."
"Ha." He let go of my hand and took off the gloves, making sure the bloodied gauze was wrapped up in them as well as the stitches. "I'm only optimistic when you're pessimistic. Besides, there's more than one avenue here, Georgiana. You just have to look on the bright side."
"And what's the bright side?"
He got up and put my phone down on the table in front of me, screen still active.
"Pro number one: you become a Vampire and you get to see and hold this λίγο θαύμα. You can get attached and watch him or her grow." I rested my head back against the chair and considered him. "You don't have to be an incubator. You can be a mother."
"Con number one: I'd have to bleed out and actually die first. You'd have to be there and all of it would have to happen before I give birth. It would actually have to work."
"You're worried it won't."
I'm just worried in general.
Do you want me to reassure you everything will be ok?
Would you be lying?
"No."
"Do you really want to sire another Vampire?"
He scoffed. "You make it sound like a hardship."
"Isn't it?"
The wheels in his head started to turn. "Let me go throw this away and then we'll discuss the file." He glanced at my coffee cup and mostly eaten bagel. "You should finish eating."
"Conversation officially over then?"
"Postponed for another time."
"Why?"
You'll understand when we talk about it again.
I do not miss vague Michael.
"Trust me, neither do I. I'll be right back."
"But why do you have to go do it now?"
"Do you want the truth?"
"Always."
Know how you feel about coffee?
I would pretty much die if I didn't get a cup of it every day and the smell of a freshly brewed pot was my idea of what heaven smelled like. "Yeah."
That's how I feel about your blood and I'm trying to be a gentleman.
I attempted not to smile because this was serious. Blood was a serious thing to Vampires, obviously. Trying?
He gave me a look that could be closely interpreted as "don't start" before walking out of the room. I liked this relaxed, adulty version of him. Much different from the "this is what we're doing, no arguments" version.
"You know, overhearing a conversation between you two is confusing."
I smiled at Jon as he walked through the other door.
"Good morning to you too, Jon."
He returned my smile and came over to give me a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning, Ana Angel." He sat down in the seat Michael had occupied and looked me over. "How are we?"
"It's a good morning. Who knows what the day will bring."
"I heard about the murder."
I nodded. "Investigation is ongoing. Michael just handed me the file from the Coven Segel belonged to."
"They normally keep personnel files under lock and key. You're lucky they gave that to you."
"I wouldn't call it luck."
"You should. The only reason you have it is because your bondmate is on the Coven's Counsel."
I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process that little piece of information, before saying, "Wait, what?" Michael walked back into the room and I settled my confused gaze on him. "You're on the Counsel? Since when?"
"Since he needed information on how to either break the pact or save you," Jon answered with a devious lit to his voice.
"It's not that big of a deal." Michael stopped at the seat to my right and frowned at Jon, who looked way too relaxed in his seat. "Why are you causing problems?"
Jon gave him an innocent look. "I'm not. Simply explaining to Ana how she's able to have her information for the murder investigation."
"Back up, what does him being on the Counsel have to do with—?"
"When a Counsel member calls, you answer," Michael said. "And before you ask, no, I didn't pull any strings or do any commandy things to get you the information. As for how I got the seat, I used the hit my uncle took out on you to remove him from the Counsel—" And then I took his place.
Jesus, I sent to him.
He shrugged and sat down. I needed answers and how better to get them than to be in a position of power?
Did it ever occur to you to tell me?
Yes. He reached over and picked up my coffee cup, took a sip. When it became relevant which is coincidently now.
I glared at him. "Not funny."
He grinned at me, showing a nice amount of teeth. Before my uncle put out the hit, I started questioning the Angel's timing, why they initiated the pact, why Hanover couldn't change you, why our bond remained in existence even though both of us neglected it and closed it off. Most bonds are formed with an exchange of blood but you, like I've told you, just need a bite. Our bond is maintained and strengthened by emotion, not by sharing blood, and after I couldn't find any public knowledge of the subject, I knew I needed the access only a Counsel member would have. So I found a way. My uncle just happened to play into my hands by being an overreaching idiot.
"I needed the info," he repeated out loud.
The lengths he would go to shouldn't surprise me but at the same time—
But I sent blood to you, with Jon, when that all happened. How is our bond not strengthened by blood?
If you'd remember correctly, we also shared something else around that time.
And as if I needed the reminder, he sent me a few seconds of when that shared something took place.
Oh.
Jon chuckled. "Do you two even realize when you switch over to mindtalking? It's like having a conversation with someone who knows more than one language." He looked at me and completely moved topics. "Vampires don't give information to Slayers willingly. You've encountered that roadblock before, yes?"
"I've encountered many roadblocks since becoming a Guild member. It's not just a Vampire-specific occurrence. The Guilds are literally the Otherworld police and I just happen to be the Hybrid among the ranks. Most of my roadblocks come from that alone."
"I meant only the Vampire-specific ones."
"You're referring to when a pair of Vampires notify the Guild to hand over the case because it's 'out of our jurisdiction'?"
Jon nodded.
"Yeah, that chafes a bit. There was this one case in particular I had to hand over involving the human relatives of a Vampire but not the Vampire directly."
Michael frowned. "Why would that bother you? You're not the territorial type."
"True but I don't like it when the families of the victims don't get closure. They deserve more than to be told 'we're sorry for your loss but it's out of our hands'. Once the Covens take over, it's radio silence for everyone else involved."
"But the crimes, whatever they may be, stop," Jon said. "That's what ultimately matters."
"Tell that to the mother who doesn't understand why her child died or the husband who wants the truth. It's good and all to make it stop but what about the aftermath? Sometimes these people are never told the perpetrator was caught. I like the efficiency, don't get me wrong, but not the coldness with which it is done."
"So emotional," Jon said while propping his head on a closed fist. "I like that."
I crinkled my nose. "No, you don't."
"When it comes to you, I do."
I rolled my eyes and looked at Michael. "What did you get me?"
He put my coffee cup down and opened the file. "Segel was a Vampire for fifty years, turned when he was twenty-eight by some so-and-so that's irrelevant. Roberts was his husband legally and they were in the process of having the Counsel's approval for the turning. From what I understand," he put the papers on the table for me to look at, "they were to be approved in the new year."
Well, that's sweet.
Yeah, but now they're dead so—
Crude.
He just shrugged. "Segel was a model Vampire with no infractions or criminal inclinations. This is all the local rep gave me and you'll be getting a visit from a pair of Vampires sometime today, possibly with more."
"Are they going to demand I hand over the case?"
"Not exactly. They're willing to work with you on this one."
I gave him a lazy grin, knowing full well why I'd get cooperation from the Vampires this time. "Is that where the string pulling and commandy stuff came in?"
He shrugged and hid his own lazy grin behind the coffee cup he picked back up. "Maybe."
I pointed at the cup that used to be mine. "Can I have a drink of my drink?" He handed the cup back over though rather begrudgingly. "Thank you. What do you think about the case?"
"Too early in the case to pinpoint one particular motive. You probably won't know the true one until the murderer kills again and he will. Someone that detailed won't stop at one. I'm leaning more towards the hate crime theory, however. I didn't see the whole scene so I can't tell you for certain. Did the murderer leave any other messages besides the one word?"
I shook my head. "I still think there's something more to the TV and obviously leaving the severed penis and balls on the dinner plate has meaning."
"Because—why not?" Jon said. "You've never had penis and balls for dinner?"
"Can't say I've had that particular delicacy, no."
Jon sat back in his seat, smiling. "Then you're missing out."
"I'll take your word for it." I checked the time on my phone. "I should get back. Someone might start wondering—" the beeper at my hip went off "—where I am." I looked at it and sighed when I read the code. "I need a vacation."
Jon chuckled. "You just had one."
"I mean one where I don't die." I stood up and stretched. "The past week does not count as vacation."
"True. Michelangelo, you should take her to Paris."
Please don't.
Michael grinned, knowing full well I didn't want to go to Paris. "Jon, you're overstepping again."
"The woman deserves a relaxing vacation. The one The Piece took her on was far from relaxing."
"Can you not call him that?" I asked. I picked up my coffee cup and downed what was left. "He has an actual name."
"One I've conveniently forgotten time and again," Jon quipped. "Why do you think that twin of his didn't request for you to have a long and happy life?"
Damn whiplash change of topic. I stared at him, wide-eyed and angry. "What kind of question—"
"I can see the future."
"You mean you can see the future when it pleases you."
"That's a bit harsh, Ana Angel. I told you all the futures float around and most of them never come true so it is pointless to look at them all. I didn't see what would happen in the woods until it was too late."
"And what defines too late, Jon?"
"When destiny is sealed with no hope of changing it."
"Is that what you're doing here, now? Meddling in the hopes of changing whatever future you've seen?"
"Remember when we spoke of ghosts? I told you of the one following The Piece around, the one he's carried for a long time."
"Jon," Michael snapped, all good humor gone. "Enough."
I stared at Jon for a minute, recalling the conversation and that I told him I didn't want to know. But now, after learning all I had, and him reminding me of that tidbit—
It dawned on me who Gregori's ghost could be and how tragic that was.
"It's his mother, isn't it?" I whispered.
Jon didn't look surprised I'd figured it out that quickly. "He stole her life and she wails for him. It's rather unpleasant to witness."
That was something intimate about Gregori I never wanted to know.
"And Aleksei?"
Jon's eyes became haunted. "She was dead when Nikolai Phillies cut him out."
That explained more than I wanted. "You're painting me a lovely picture of my future, Jon. Thank you so much."
"There's a point, Ana." He got up and came around the table to stand next to me. "The only reason I meddle is to make sure you have the best outcome. Your nightmare is but one possible future floating around you and not the worst. Not even close."
Considering how bad that nightmare was—
"Don't meddle too much," I warned. "Or the worst will happen."
I grabbed my phone and plugged the earbuds back in, signaling it was time for me to go. Michael stood and said, "I'll walk you out."
He gave Jon the evil eye as we headed out. I had the file in hand and started wondering, "Not that I don't enjoy having Jon around but—when is he leaving?"
Michael shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "If he doesn't get his mouth under control, he'll be leaving sooner than expected. He means well, I think, but sometimes he doesn't know when to stop."
We got to the circular entryway and I paused by the table, giving the front door a long look.
What's wrong?he asked.
I frowned. I don't know. I'm sort of in this weird limbo and I don't know what to do about it.
You're not processing.
I'm afraid to.
Because of what you'll figure out while doing it?
I gave him a weird look. You're doing that annoying, all-knowing thing again.
He touched my elbow. You can't bottle this one up and hope it goes away. Things need to sink in so you can deal with them properly.
Some things have already sunk in.
Like what?
I'm pregnant.
His eyebrows went up in mock surprise. Nah, really?
I slapped his arm. "Don't mock me."
"Don't be so easy to mock."
Seriously though.
His eyes went on a lazy perusal of my current landscape, something I hadn't noticed him do since being back around him. Breasts are a little bit bigger.
Don't say breasts.
The corner of his mouth turned up. Breasts.
I rolled my eyes. Middle schooler.
He stepped forward and put his hands on my waist.Hips are the same but they'll expand.
You're being super charming right now. I crossed my arms over my chest. Not very helpful at all.
Just trying to lighten the mood. It's good you've accepted the fact you're pregnant but you have to let it all settle. He looked down at me, a little pensive. You won't be able to move forward and make the decisions you're about to face if you don't.
You're telling me it's time to process in the normal way, not the Georgiana way?
His lips twisted in a suppressed smile. I think it's time for you to stop sealing these things in mental boxes and hoping they work themselves out. Stop—what's the word people use these days?—stop ghosting yourself?
I tried not to laugh. I did. "Wow. That's—a new word for you." And probably not the right one.
His pensive look turned a bit more serious and I sensed he wasn't a hundred percent certain about the subject he wanted to broach next. I want to take you to dinner.
Is that your way of ensuring I keep my promise from last night?
No because that was a dinner you promised Jon and he didn't give you much choice. I want to have dinner alone with you because you want to and not because you're being forced to.
But you don't eat.
True. He had to think about that one. I'm really screwing this up, aren't I?
"Hey," I whispered and went in for a hug. "It's ok, you're not screwing up anything."
He hugged me back, resting his head on top of mine. I want to help you with whatever you need. For the last six years, all I've wanted was to be near you, see you, speak to you, hold you, and ensure you feel wanted every second of every day. And I know you have a lot on your plate right now and still need to process everything that happened. But know that I'm an option, in every sense of the word.
"When you're ready," he added out loud.
I hugged him tighter, respecting him more for not pushing or attempting to pick up where we left things at the beach. He knew I had boundaries and was willing to help me figure out all my shit without expecting anything in return.
I missed you and the quiet strength you gave me. I feel safe here, with you, and that's—more than anything else.
"Whenever you're ready, I'll be here," he replied. "But for now, can we make morning coffee a thing? I like sharing with you."
"I think I can manage that." Considering Olivia brought in coffee for me every morning, it wouldn't be that big of a change. "Let me know when we're having make-up dinner. If you want to do it while Luke is here, you have until the first."
"How about tomorrow?"
"I can do that."
"Ok.