by Anna Abner
“Of course I knew,” she said. “I’m the Oracle. I know everything.”
Maks leaned in. “Then why didn’t you warn me?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” She flipped her purple streaked hair over one shoulder.
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, Will she survive? Will she come back to me? But it was a selfish, illogical hope. He shouldn’t want that for her. He shouldn’t.
“Are you here on official business?” he demanded instead, seriously annoyed now. He didn’t care if he looked crazy shouting at himself. “Or did you just come by to irritate me?”
“I said all I need to say,” she said, exasperating as ever. “But you’re cute when you’re angry, mister. You’re really, really—”
“I’m forty-two,” he said flatly.
“Ew. Gross.” Curling her lip, she disappeared.
#
The drive to the Stardust was short, but it gave Violet just enough time to prepare herself to see her mom and hopefully her son. All she’d thought of during those long days of captivity had been going home and snuggling Jackson one more time. Now, it was happening. Violet had tears in her eyes before she even got out of the car.
The last time she’d seen her son, he was seven months old—a pink-cheeked, sticky-fingered angel on earth. She’d been such a fool to leave him for a weekend. She’d been so selfish. If she’d stayed home with Jackson, none of this would have happened.
“Do you want me to wait?” the driver inquired.
“No, thank you.” Violet straightened her borrowed clothing. She looked at the room number the officer had written down for her, but she needn’t have worried about it. Before she’d even reached the hotel’s huge, ornate entrance, a tiny woman in a summer dress came scurrying outside holding a flaxen-haired baby in denim overalls on her hip. Violet flung her arms around them both and wept.
All those days in captivity. All those sleepless nights. The torture. The bloodletting. All those soul-crushing hours she’d dreamed of this moment and in the back of her mind had partly believed it would never happen. Vampires didn’t release their victims. They used them up and threw them away.
But somehow, Violet had made it out alive.
“Mom,” she cried. “I missed you so much.”
Her mother handed Jackson to her, and her son clung to her neck. She rocked him, smelling his sweet baby smell and massaging his warm little back.
Without saying actual words, her mother led her inside the hotel. In a crappy room on the second floor waited Violet’s dad, her twin little brothers, and her aunt. With Jackson safely in her arms, she was passed like a favored doll from one person to the next. Somehow, she ended up on a sofa bookended by Mom and Auntie Nelly.
Then the questions started. Where were you? Are you hurt? Are you hungry? What happened that night? How did you escape?
There was no way to answer them coherently, so she murmured, “I don’t remember,” and cuddled her golden-eyed son.
“Let her be,” Dad finally said. “Give her space to breathe.” He smiled warmly at her and nodded. “She’ll be fine.”
While her brothers chattered about football, Violet sank further and further into the worn and threadbare sofa, her son a heavy weight against her chest. She should be at ease, finally, but instead she felt tense and anxious.
“Isn’t that right, Vi?” Her mother patted her knee, and Violet flinched.
“What?” She’d somehow lost the thread of conversation. Her parents frowned down at her.
“You, me, Daddy, and Jackson have tickets on a six a.m. flight to Raleigh,” Mom said, perching on the edge of the sofa. “No layovers. You’ll be home before you know it, in your own bed, surrounded by the people who love you.”
Violet pictured it. Her parents’ farmhouse in sleepy Fayetteville. Violet and Jackson sharing the guest bedroom. People constantly asking her if she was okay and watching her every move with pity in their eyes.
“Yeah.” The word croaked out of her throat. She coughed and added, “Great, Mom.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Mom asked, concern in her voice.
It’s starting already.
Even before the abduction nightmare, her mom had been overprotective. Violet had heard the words, Are you okay? so many times growing up, she’d come to hate them.
“I’m fine,” Violet assured. “Just tired.”
“Of course she’s tired,” Dad said to Mom, a tone in his voice. “Quit pestering her.”
“I’m fine,” Violet said again, struggling to the edge of the sofa without waking Jackson. “Can I get something to eat?” The perpetual gnawing hunger gave her an excuse to slip out from under her parents’ suffocating attention.
“Whatever you want,” Mom said quickly. “There’s stuff on the table. Or I could order room service. Or we could go out. Or—”
“Whatever’s here is fine,” Violet said. She chose a bottle of sports drink and an almond scone. She stuffed her mouth with pastry to give her a second to think before being bombarded with more questions and concerns.
There was a knock on the door, and her brother let in an older man in a collared shirt.
“Violet,” her mother said, “this is Dr. Zheng. He’s here to help you.”
A shrink? Violet swallowed thickly and wiped crumbs from her mouth. “Hello.”
The doctor shook her hand. “Miss Russell, I’d love to get your take on things,” he said smoothly, “when you’re comfortable.”
So, they were already certain she was mentally damaged. They hadn’t even seen or spoken to her before hiring a therapist to ‘fix’ her.
Her mother slipped an arm over Violet’s shoulders and gave her a not-so-subtle shove. “I’ll hold Jackson. You go talk to the doctor. He’s an excellent listener.”
Reluctantly, Violet passed her son to Mom, but took an extra scone with her into the adjoining hotel room. Dr. Zheng closed the door and dropped gracefully into a desk chair, leaving nowhere for Violet to sit except the unmade bed.
“My name is John,” he began, “and it’s nice to meet you.” The doctor went on to introduce himself, Violet assumed to put her at ease. Universities attended, wife, kids, and hometown.
But it was all a waste of time. It had been so long since Violet had actually talked to someone, she’d have spilled her guts to the valet guy if he’d so much as made eye contact.
“I’m not the same person I was when I got off the plane here,” she admitted in a rush of breath. “I’m not sure I can go home and pretend.”
The doctor nodded knowingly. “In what ways are you changed?”
“In what ways am I not changed?” she countered. “My eyes have been opened to things I never thought possible.”
“Your parents say you think you saw vampires during your captivity.”
Violet stared at her hands. “There was one in particular,” she said softly. “He was different.”
“How so?”
“He cries in his sleep,” she said. “And though he tries so hard to be evil, he does good things. He got us out of the hole. He caught me when I fell. He comforted me when I needed him…”
“How do you feel about him?” Dr. Zheng prompted.
Maks made her feel safe.
She hadn’t felt like a helpless female with Maks, Connor, Roz or Ali. She’d felt strong. Her family, on the contrary, and their exaggerated caring made her feel worse than the vampires had. At least with the horde, there had been no pretense of love involved.
Violet looked up. “I can’t stay here.” When the doctor remained silent, she added, “I don’t know these people, and they don’t know me.” He still didn’t respond. “I’m not comfortable here, and I know damn sure I won’t be comfortable waitressing in Fayetteville. Besides,” she took an unsteady breath, “I have unfinished business here.”
“With the man you were talking about?”
Maks had a plan to cure her. He was the only person she trusted to handle it. “Yes.”
“What’s keeping you from making these decisions?” the doctor prompted.
Nothing.
Violet hopped off the bed and whipped open the door to the adjoining room. Her son’s familiar diaper bag slumped by the door, and she slid the strap over one shoulder.
Taking Jackson, Violet said to her mother, “Thank you for everything, but I can’t go home yet.” She started for the door amid outcries of, Don’t let her leave! She’s been abused.
There was no solution to her problem in this room with her family. Maks had mentioned another plan. Whatever they were attempting on her behalf, she wanted to be there for it.
Besides, who would keep Maks from sacrificing himself if Violet weren’t there?
At the threshold, she turned. “I love you all, but I want to reconnect with my son, and I need some time. I’ll text you.”
“Wait, here.” Her mother, holding back tears, thrust her purse at her. “Someone turned it into the police after you went missing. Your license and passport are still good. I put some cash in there for you. And your personal things haven’t been touched. Unfortunately, your phone and credit cards were stolen.”
Violet accepted the purse, grateful to have it. “Thanks, Mom.” Kissing her powdered pink cheek, she shifted Jackson’s weight to her hip, and walked briskly away.
A cab was simple to hire in front of the Stardust, and she directed it to the Le Sort Hotel on the other side of the Strip. Within minutes, she paid the driver with some of her new cash and headed for the registration desk. After explaining she had friends on the fifty-first floor, the clerk called for someone to come down to escort her.
Violet waited with Jackson near the elevators.
One after another, they dinged and opened, but no familiar faces greeted her. She began to wonder if the supernaturals hadn’t already disappeared. Just packed their stuff and moved on. Or worse, they were all upstairs and simply ignoring her.
The doors swished open, and Maksim Volk stood across from her, freshly showered and looking damned fine in clean clothes and a day’s growth of whiskers darkening his jaw. His eyes caught hers and then landed firmly upon Jackson. He stood ogling her so long the doors began to close.
Maks slammed a hand against the elevator’s sliding door, forcing it open as he stared at her in absolute astonishment. “Are you out of your ever-loving mind?” he shouted.
Chapter Seven
She’d brought a baby to a vampire den? Maks was rage. He was fury.
Violet shrank away from him, shielding her son.
Smart lady.
Maks had rarely been this angry. He pulled her into the elevator and punched the code for the fifty-first floor. But he was far from done yelling.
“You brought your baby here?” he continued. “You want to keep your baby down the hall from half a dozen pit vampires? Those motherfuckers are insane! I’m not sure they won’t eat me, let alone a baby.”
Violet remained infuriatingly calm, though Jackson hid his face and whined. “You raised Ali among the horde and kept her safe.”
“Raised is a stretch,” Maks argued. “I had her for two years, and both her caregivers were vampires. We could protect her.”
“We’ll protect him.”
“How?” he howled.
Jackson began to quietly cry into his mother’s shirt as the elevator doors opened onto their floor, and Maks whisked them into the hallway, but he purposefully did not open any of the suites.
He continued, “Do you know that good-looking hulk Lukas? He turns into a motherfucking bear, Violet. A bear.” He paced the hallway. “Good lord, I’m going to have to kill every last one of them.” Just to drill home his point, he faced her and reiterated, “I’m going to have to fight and kill every vampire and shapeshifter living in this hotel. Do you understand that?”
Ali poked her head out of one of the room doors. “I heard shouting.” Then she spotted Jackson. “Oh, my God.” She did not appear happy to see the baby. An awkward moment passed, and then her expression softened. “This must be your son. Maks, quit scaring him.” She tickled the boy’s narrow spine, and his crying subsided. “He’s adorable.” She leaned back into the hotel suite and called, “Connor, can you come out here?”
He did, still chewing something. He caught sight of Jackson, and his eyes widened. “Jesus,” he swore, “this is going to be complicated.”
“Exactly!” At last, someone saw things Maks’ way.
“Connor,” Ali said, her eyes on the baby, “you and I will take the pit vampires to the cabin for a while. You can train them there and turn them into the,” she used air quotes, “elite fighting force you’re always talking about.”
Maks didn’t like the idea of Ali leaving the city the moment he’d finally found her, but she was spot on as far as getting the pit vampires away from baby Jackson. And fast.
“I’ll take them first thing in the morning,” Connor agreed, staring at the baby. “I’d feel better if you stayed here, hon.” He glanced briefly at Ali.
“But you’ll be on your own,” Ali argued. “Five against one? No. You need back-up.”
“Fine,” Connor said. “I’ll take Lukas, but you need Roz and Markus here to protect Violet.”
“Agreed.”
Maks sighed. “This is nuts.” Sure, take care of a toddler in a hotel in the middle of a war between supernaturals. If the witches didn’t kill Jackson first, the vampires were only a step behind.
Violet held Jackson tight and whisked him into their hotel room without another word. As if he was finished yelling. As if there was nothing further to discuss.
His mouth opening and closing reflexively, Maks chased her into the bedroom where she settled Jackson on the rug on his tummy. Immediately, he pushed onto his hands and knees and crawled to the bedside table to investigate.
“Have you even thought of the logistics?” Maks continued in a hiss. He really didn’t enjoy making the kid cry. “Where will he sleep? What will he eat? I doubt Connor keeps a stash of bottles and diapers in the gun safe.”
She stood and faced him, and even with the shadows under her eyes and new lines bracketing her full lips, he was momentarily intimidated by her quiet strength.
“He’ll sleep with me,” she answered calmly. “I’ll buy or find anything he needs. I’m his mother.”
He had angered her, and it hadn’t been his intention. “Violet,” he sighed. “This place isn’t safe.” And more to the point, he admitted, “I’m not safe.”
“You don’t want me here,” she said. “But it’s my life on the line. I’ll leave when the curse is broken.”
Didn’t want her here? Maks’ problem was wanting her here too much.
He bowed his head. When had he gotten so bad at conversation? “I don’t want either of you getting hurt because of me.”
He heard her tip-toeing nearer, and Maks finally glanced up. She was only inches away.
“You want me to leave?”
He smirked. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been the most fun I’ve had in decades.” The admission cost him pride, and he was grateful when Jackson fussed and offered him something less emotional to focus on. “Grab the kid. Let’s go.”
“Where to?” she asked, but she stooped to lift Jackson into her arms.
“Your son needs all that baby stuff,” he said, waving his hand vaguely. He didn’t know what half the ‘stuff’ was called, but he knew babies needed certain things. Bottles, diapers, formula, onesies, wipes…
Connor and Ali remained in the front room, elbows brushing, heads bowed, whispering. The sounds of their voices ceased when Maks entered the room.
“I need money,” he said to Connor.
The tall man raised both eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
Asking for anything rankled Maks. It reminded him of being subservient to Oleksander and accepting his scraps. “Unless you want me to steal the damned diapers,” he said flippantly.
Ali stomped on Connor’s foot, and the big guy jumped. “Uh,” he fumbled
for his wallet, “like a twenty?” Ali crushed his toes. “Ow, no, here.” He peeled off hundreds. “Buy whatever he needs.”
Maks snatched the cash.
“Mind if we get food first?” Violet asked as she followed him into the elevator. “I could eat a horse.”
“I’ve never been to a buffet,” he suggested as the elevator doors closed.
Moron, he berated himself. Flipping idiot.
But standing beside her and her child felt amazing. Miraculous. Mind-blowing. If he wasn’t careful, he may get used to being happy. It had never lasted for him, though, and he had no proof it would last this time.
When he chanced a sidelong glance, he caught Jackson staring at him with wide, innocent eyes exactly like his mother’s.
“Nice to meet you,” Maks murmured, offering the child his hand. Jackson babbled a string of nonsensical syllables and clung to Maks’ pinky with wet, satiny fingers.
“Baby J,” Violet said softly, “this is Maks.”
Jackson released Maks to stare into his mother’s face. “Mama,” he declared.
With tears in her eyes, Violet kissed his pink cheek with a loud smacking sound.
The elevator glided to a stop, the doors whooshed open, and Maks gestured for Violet to precede him onto the promenade level. They followed the signs to the Le Sort’s grand buffet and lifted warm white plates from a stack.
Violet handed Maks an extra one. “Do you mind finding some applesauce or fruit for Jackson?”
He frowned briefly at the clean white plate. “Of course not.”
A lifetime ago, Ali had liked mashed carrots and peach puree. A faint memory of her spitting up boiled green beans flitted through his thoughts, tugging a smile from him. Those years with Katya and Ali had been the best of his entire, miserable existence. As he stared after Violet and her son, he longed for the normalcy of feeding a child, of being part of a family.
Dismissing his thoughts as further proof of his mental decline, Maks chose small portions of baby friendly foods—boiled potatoes, cottage cheese, and stewed chicken. By the time he sat at the booth beside Violet, she’d gone back and forth, filling three separate plates before digging in.
