Page 67 of The Child of Rue Royale
Mother’s face sours with Aven in Cassius’s care, but she stays silent out of respect for Bastian’s and Nicola’s reunion, and I nod at her, thanking her.
Bastian takes the steps, two at a time, arms wide, and then Oksana and Amerie are in his embrace, their cries drowning out the crickets, drowning out the stars in the sky. Moving to his mother, he falls to his knees and pulls Nicola in his arms as hers wrap around his shoulders, the words, “My boy, my boy,” echoing from her lips.
I catch a tear in Chantal’s eye as Cassius approaches us.
“May I bring the baby up there?”
Mother’s jaw ticks, her nostrils flaring as she whispers in my ear. “Don’t you let that baby near those vampires.”
Cassius chuckles because he absolutely heard her. “This child will be adored by these vampires. I guarantee it.”
“I’ll go,” I whisper to Mother to avoid any conflict, remembering the last time I was in the same vicinity as my mother and Nicola. I ascend the stairs with Cassius, Aven’s sleep uninterrupted by all the fuss.
Bastian pulls Nicola up from the floor, wiping the blood tears from her face with this thumb.
Nicola looks at me without disgust on her face—for the first time in my life—but instead with a vulnerability that makes me feel like I’m intruding on something tender. And then she does something I never thought possible, she pulls me into her arms, and she holds me. She fucking holds me.
I hear Chantal’s and Mother’s footsteps climbing the stairs, wanting to be close to ensure that Nicola isn’t up to anything. And she isn’t. When she pulls away, her eyes roam from them to me, and it seems she remembers who and what I am, and she releases me from her embrace.
Bastian and I lock eyes, disbelief seizing both of us, and then Oksana is near me, grabbing my hand. Her eyes, a faucet of tears, the snake tattoo on her collarbone shaking. “You brought our boy back.”
I nod, not knowing how to react because Oksana is human and has never been much of a threat besides the eye-rolling and sarcasm. She only hates us because that’s what the vampires taught her. So instead of saying something snarky like I usually would, I bite my tongue and smile. The best I can, at least.
Chantal gives me a look of shock, with Oksana’s hand in mine.
Oksana drops it, placing Bastian’s face between her hands and kissing each cheek. “It wasn’t the same without you.”
Chantal rolls her eyes, hooking my arm through hers. “I’m ready to go home, babe,” she says, pulling me from where all the vampires have gathered around Bastian.
“Did you see that?” I whisper, and she shakes her head, curls bouncing around her face.
“Hell hath really frozen over.”
And then I groan, the thought of Chantal leaving making me uneasy. “I don’t want you to leave. Do you want to stay tonight?”
“No,” she says. “I need to be home. You’ll be okay without me, right?”
I look to Bastian, who’s speaking to Amerie, but his eyes are on me, not lying when he said he wouldn’t let me out of his sight. “Yes, I’ll be okay.” Tears pierce my eyes because I haven’t slept without Chantal in the same house for almost a year.
“You can come back to our house,” Mother buts in, and I bite my lip.
“She’s safer here than with me or you. Away from the Quarter and any coven eyes.” Chantal, our voice of reason these days.
“Yes, I suppose. We have the blessing ceremony in three days, and then you’ll work on his memory?”
“Yes,” I say, too tired to remind her that she’s not in charge of me. I yawn instead of putting her in her place and kiss Chantal on the cheek.
“Remember, Bastian needs to keep a low profile until we have a plan to move forward. He can’t be seen walking down Bourbon Street when he’s supposed to be dead.” Mother’s eyes bore into mine.
“Got it,” I say.
Nicola coos over Aven, a smile on her face I don’t recognize. Is it adoration? As if Mother can read my thoughts, she says, “Good God, what is happening?” Something cuts at my chest, seeing how Nicola looks at Aven, even though it disgusts my jealous mother.
“I think it’s wonderful. Aven deserves all the love in the world.”
Spinning to face me, her eyes wide, she says, “Of course he does. Even by assholes.”
“Delta,” Chantal scolds, and I can only shake my head.
