Page 83 of Fanged Embrace
The call went dead. Both River and I stared at the screen as the redhead’s words sank in.
Then River lowered the phone and drew in a breath. “The organization knew we were planning an attack—so they struck first. Three factions in one night. The witches, the shifters, and the elves. They’re gut-punching anyone who might stand with us.” Her ochre eyes flickered with steel, her jaw set tight as she gritted through her teeth. “This was a warning shot.”
My stomach lurched. If they knew about the attack, if they knew where to hit the coven’s allies… My fingers found River’s and clamped down. “They could know where I am, too.”
She squeezed back—steady and reassuring. “Let them come,” she murmured, but I felt the tremor in her pulse. “I’ll take them down myself.”
From the pure murder in her eyes, I believed her. I believed that she’d try. I had no doubt that she’d fight tooth and nail if the organization made a move to get me back. But one vampire against an entire army of unmasked enemies didn’t stand a chance.
The quiet voice in the back of my mind rose to whisper poison in my ear once again:
It's all your fault. You’re the one putting her in danger. You’re the one who's going to hurt her, one way or another.
It’s all your fault.
41
River
Considering the evil organization threatening our very existence, I expected to be doing more than simply sitting around babysitting. I should have been across the hall, in Jordan’s office, figuring out a plan with the rest of them—instead, the moment Laurie and I arrived at Leyore Headquarters, Jordan pressed a different mission into my reluctant hands: Twin duty.
Half an hour and a few gray hairs later, the spare office was already a wreck. Crayons rolled under the conference table; an overturned filing cabinet served as a doll castle. Hazel and Hilda were currently staging a war of their own, pelting each other with plushies while hotly debating whether vampires were cooler than shifters.
I ducked as a fluffy bat plushie was lobbed over my head. Jordan owed me big time for this one.
The redhead had begged and pleaded, and of course I buckled. Someone had to keep an eye on the twins. Jordan and Skye had their hands full doing damage control, and Ursulawas caught up in helping the witches who were hurt in the attack last night.
Hunter and Addison had pleaded “terrible with children,” and Dylan vanished in a puff of smoky shadows when I tried to rope her in. Poor Amara (the only vamp on the team with the slightest bit of integrity, in my opinion) was still getting used to her new vampire body and couldn’t stay in humanoid form for more than fifteen minutes without sprouting fangs and a new, inconvenient set of wings—and Maxine was busy faffing over Leah who looked very put out by yet another Leyore crisis dragging her away from work.
That left me, and by extension, the unexpected asset currently perched cross-legged on the carpet: Laurie, who, for once, seemed strangely content with skipping the action. I watched from the corner of the office with my feet propped up on the desk, stunned by the easy smile on her face.
She had laughed at Hazel’s ridiculous questions and praised Hilda’s crayon doodles, completely at ease in the presence of the two little monsters. Where I expected her to be tense and guarded, she was relaxed and carefree. This was a side of Laurie I had never seen before, and I sat quietly out of the way, unwilling to disrupt the endearing scene.
When the twins finally relented their plushie-slinging, Hazel sidled up to Laurie’s side and quizzed her about her opinion on finger painting, while Hilda entertained herself by drawing flowers on Laurie’s arm with a glittery gel pen. Laurie indulged them both, delivering a solemn speech on the importance of finger painting and stretching her hand out for Hilda to trace swirling patterns over her palm.
It was somewhat surprising to find that Laurie was good with children, able to indulge their incessant chatter with the patience of a saint. Her usual stoic grimace was nowhere to be seen, though the more I thought it over, the more it made sense. This is what she could have been, had she not lost herown child. This was a glimpse of the life that she’d been robbed of. It was both beautiful and painful to witness.
After another straight hour of motor-mouthing, Hazel tired herself out mid-sentence and promptly curled up against Laurie’s leg. Hilda was already conked out beside her sister, gel pen still fisted in her hand. Laurie brushed stray bangs from Hazel’s forehead, her expression soft, almost wistful as she looked down at the twin tornadoes.
I swung my feet off the desk and walked over, crouching at her side and tugging a bit of plushie stuffing from Hilda’s hair. “You’re really good with them.”
Her smile faltered, eyes clouding over the way the sky dims before rain. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I… used to picture myself being a decent mom, I guess.”
“I can see it.” I eased down beside her, leaning back on my palms. “It's impressive—most people can’t go two minutes dealing with these two without blowing a gasket.”
That earned me a chuckle, and Laurie leaned over to run a soft hand through Hilda’s tufted hair again. “They’re not that bad. Just…waytoo much sugar in their system. What exactly is Jordan feeding these two?”
“Cereal, cereal, and more cereal. With an occasional secret candy bar thrown in the mix.” It was true, I’d seen the state of Jordan’s kitchen. Not a vegetable in sight.
“That’ll do it.” Laurie sighed, then fell silent for a beat. I could see her turning something over in her head, chewing on her lip like she was unsure if she wanted to speak or swallow her words.
I kept my voice gentle. “What’s spinning around in there?”
She shrugged, but her eyes were unusually glassy, pricked red in the corners like she was holding back tears. “I never got to see my kid at this age.” Her gaze fixed on the twins’ peaceful faces. “Dandelion died when she was just a year old.”
The words landed like a stone between us. Hilda snuffled,unaware of the heavy conversation happening over her head. Hazel drooled on Laurie’s thigh.
I shifted closer, brushing a shoulder up against hers. “Dandelion?”
