Page 6 of The Child of Rue Royale
“You’ve had my word that I won’t hurt her and certainly not my…” his eyes drop to the child in my womb.
I lick my lips and clear my throat. “I think Bastian would want you to call her your niece,” I say with a quiver in my tone.
“My niece,” he confirms, a satisfied smile turning up his lips with those two words, his thoughts seeming to be lost somewhere for a moment. When his eyes return to mine, he’s all business.
“Will she need blood to survive?”
“We don’t know,” Mother states. “This is new territory for us.”
“Of course.” He nods. “Well, that’s why I’ve called for this meeting with you, Aster.” He crooks an eyebrow toward Mother, and I smile. “Quite the mama bear these days, right Delta?”
“God, I hate that term,” Mother moans. “But don’t ever forget that your niece is my granddaughter. And I will kill for her. Right now. Tomorrow. Forever.”
“Then we have something in common, Delta. I can promise my devotion to this child. She will be the most protected child in New Orleans.”
There’s a tug on my hormonal heartstrings, and I audibly gasp, tears springing to my eyes because there’s so much to protect. My daughter may be a target for other witches and vampires. People can often hate what they don’t understand, and there’s not much about my daughter that even I understand, except she may be seen as a threat, an abomination, as wrong.
“My brother’s blood will be pumping through her veins. She may be part of our kind, and you may need help with that. And I must be the one to help.”
“What is this?” Mother jumps in. “An attempt to stake a claim on my daughter’s baby? Where have you been all these months, Mr. Delacroix? We don’t even know if the child will be half vampire as she was conceived while he had the potion in his system.”
“Mom,” I whisper because we’re having two very different reactions to what Cassius is saying.
“Delta,” Cassius says, a sigh on his lips. “Your daughter did a favor for me. One I can never properly repay.” His eyes meet mine. “Not only did she save my Marlowe, but she’s saved me in ways she fails to understand. That’s why I invited her here to this meeting.”
I look down, my toes tapping against his desk. Cassius didn’t ask my mother to be here, and now I wish I had forced her to stay home too. Yet her claws clench around my armrest. Protective of me, of her grandchild, and it’s a new feeling. I can’t say I hate it, but it’s also not convenient at the moment.
Cassius slides his hands upon a folder, stacked with papers, gently tapping it with his fingertips. “As executor of my brother’s estate, I am in charge of his assets.” He picks up the papers and plops them before me, his fingers returning to a temple. “I know what my brother would have wanted for you, for his child.”
I pick up the papers, flipping through them, unable to comprehend what I’m reading. The confusion makes the legal jargon appear forged in another language.
“The Garden District house is yours. Along with the house in California.”
“Whoa,” I say, shaking my head. “No, I don’t think—” but Bastian’s voice rings in my ears.Always saying no first. Let go.
Mother’s fingers slide up my arm along with a deep inhalation. “Now that…is more like it. Aster,” she says, forcing our eyes to meet, and in an instant, she has completely changed course. I can tell by the glimmer in her eyes, in the hitch of her breath.
“What will every witch and vampire think when they find out? How would I explain living in a vampire’s house? A dead vampire’s house?” It feels harsh coming out, the wordsdeadandBastianin the same sentence, still so hard to say.
I’ll do everything in my power to bring him back, but there’s always that worry, that fear that it might not work. That I can’t actually do it, and then what? I can’t count on Bastian coming back and all my prayers being answered. Something could go wrong, something might not work, and then I would really need support.
But I can see myself, bare feet padding down the hall stairs, our daughter blanketed in my arms. A little girl growing up in the Garden District. I could teach her to swim in the pool. Take her on walks under the enormous oak trees, the cicadas lulling her to sleep. It’s almost too beautiful a vision; I must suppress it to keep my mind from wandering.
“It’s a home that is equipped and safe for our kind. Do you know if she will need darkness? Do you know if she will be protected? I can protect her there. I can’t in a French Quarter apartment that is easily set ablaze on an overpopulated street.”
Mother laughs, her hand smoothing her black bob. “She won’t need your protection.” Lord, her pride can really get the best of her. Seconds ago, she was ready to jump at the offer until he made her feel inferior.
“Always so cocky. But I seem to remember you crawling on the floor at the hand of Franklin Maltese.” He cocks his head as if reliving the moment, eyes flashing with contempt.
Electricity flicks between Mother’s fingers, but I grab them in mine, extinguishing the volts. “He’s right.”
Cassius looks at me.
“We don’t know what we’re dealing with here. What she’ll need. We can use all the help we can get.” I bite my lip, the pain searing inside. If only Bastian were here to help me navigate this. A witch child, I can handle. A possible half-witch, half-vampire child leaves me inept. “What if she needs blood, how will I even know?” I ask, hoping he has answers.
“I’ll be able to feel it. If she’s craving it, needing it, I’ll be able to sense it in my bones. And I’ll be there when she’s born to be able to tell you that.”
My blood settles in relief—at least one thing checked off my list of worries.
