by Anna Abner
Maks ruffled Jackson’s white blond hair, and the boy wiggled happily in his high chair.
“Here you go.” Maks offered Violet the plate of bits of fruit, yogurt, and applesauce.
“Would you mind?” Violet said, her mouth full. “These mashed potatoes are too good. I need more.” She got up and hurried back to the buffet.
Maks glanced at Jackson. The baby squirmed, his eyes following his mother. “Mama.”
Maks set the plate down and hesitantly picked up a metal spoon. It was too rough for a baby’s gentle mouth. The edges might irritate Jackson’s gums. Maks set the spoon aside, cleaned his hands with a squirt of hand sanitizer from Violet’s purse, and dipped the tip of his finger in some applesauce.
“Here you go, buddy.” His attention snagged, Jackson sucked the snack from his finger. “How about some banana?” Maks peeled one and pinched a baby-sized bite, offering it to Jackson. He ate it out of Maks’ hand. “A little chicken too?” As Jackson dipped his head to eat the sliver of stewed chicken, he grasped Maks’ hand in both of his, and cold fingers dug into Maks’ flesh as he gummed the bite. Their eyes locked. Maks decided with a small smile that he liked Jackson.
Violet dropped into the opposite seat, banging two plates down among all the others. “This was such a great idea,” she said around a bite of chocolate pudding. “Thank you.”
“Here.” Maks offered her Jackson’s plate.
“No.” She waved it away. “You’re doing great. I trust you.”
Her words froze him in place for a few seconds. Trust him? No one had put any faith in him in a long time. Not since Katya and little Anya. Ali, he corrected.
It didn’t make him feel all warm and tingly. No, her trust terrified him. Couldn’t she see how dangerous he was? Didn’t she know he could decapitate her child with a single bite? He could toss this table, snap her neck, and feast upon them both before anyone realized what he’d done. He could turn at any moment and massacre the entire restaurant, gorging on blood and having an orgy with the bodies afterwards.
“I need some air,” he announced, dropping the plate and pushing away from the booth, away from the baby, away from her.
#
Violet watched Maks escape through the restaurant and lost her appetite. Not that she hadn’t already consumed enough food for two grown men, but the sight of him in turmoil switched off her eating instinct with a definitive click.
She scooted closer to Jackson, kissed his sticky little fingers, and offered him more bananas. “You hungry, Baby J?” He finished the fruit and chicken before refusing any more. “I’ll get you some milk soon. Would you like that?” She kissed his face, and he gurgled happily.
She was so lucky to have such a cheerful, contented little baby. He’d always been a breeze to care for, and he still was, even after losing her for nine weeks. She didn’t feel worthy of so much good luck, to be honest.
But she’d missed a lot. Two months ago he hadn’t been crawling or sitting up by himself. He hadn’t been talking as much, either. The loss of those two months scalded, and she swore she wouldn’t lose another day with her child.
Her gaze went automatically to the last place she’d seen Maks. If only she could convince him to count his blessings instead of focusing on the past.
Maybe she asked too much. She remembered vividly Sergei’s treatment of him. The warlord had beaten, starved, and humiliated Maks until little remained of the cocky vampire she’d first encountered on the Strip.
But they were both free now.
Lifting Jackson from the high chair and giving his face a cursory wipe with a napkin, she headed for the exit.
Maks had found a wall to lean against from which he could survey her as well as the busy foot traffic. As she neared, she recognized the way both men and women noticed Maksim Volk. Their eyes lingered longer than was necessary. But Violet couldn’t blame them. He was gorgeous, a lithe and dark panther ready to pounce. He possessed a demon’s dark eyes and an angel’s pale, untouched face. On the cusp of manhood, he exuded sex appeal. The anger radiating off him only intensified the attraction. He was both dangerous and irresistible.
As she approached, his eyes locked on her face and never strayed.
“You can’t say shit like that to me,” he hissed when she moved close enough to hear. “You can’t trust me. You can’t believe in me. You can’t, Violet. It isn’t right.”
She took a deep breath and spilled her inner turmoil all over the floor between them. “I feel safe with you.” He started to argue, but she went on. “We were both prisoners. Both at Sergei’s mercy. And, trapped in a world of monsters, I found the one willing to help. It makes sense to me. Maks,” she laid her palm flat against his chest. At first, he balked, but then he grudgingly allowed her touch. “I want to be around you. When you’re not near me, I feel scared again. I don’t like feeling scared.”
He covered her hand with his own. “I’m not worth,” his eyes shone, and Violet saw the man beneath the brash mask, “anything. I’m irredeemable, Violet.”
“I don’t believe that,” she whispered. Lost in his eyes, his breath on her lips, and the rough timber of his voice vibrating through her, Violet leaned a fraction of an inch nearer. Maks rocked forward on his toes as his eyes flickered lower to land on her mouth.
Jackson kicked Violet, writhing upward and crying a long vowel sound of annoyance.
Violet dropped flat to her feet and shifted the baby’s weight, all thoughts of kissing the vampire vanishing.
“We should go,” Maks said, his mask falling firmly back in place as he put breathing room between them. “There’s one of those baby supercenters in the promenade.”
“Sounds good.” They strolled away, side by side.
Even preoccupied with Jackson, Violet noticed Maks’ eyes. They observed every doorway, every passerby, every possible threat. He still didn’t feel secure, and she wanted to reassure him. She clasped his hand.
For a moment, he allowed her touch, but quickly slipped away on the pretense of opening the door for her.
Inside the baby store, Jackson continued to fuss. “He’s probably thirsty,” she told Maks, who nodded. He dropped bottles and parcels of organic juice into the cart.
“We’ll be quick,” Maks assured, grabbing mega packs of diapers and wipes. “What does he need to be comfortable tonight and tomorrow morning?”
“I have a few things in his diaper bag, but a pack-and-play so he can lie down would be nice,” she said, considering. “Baby food and blankets.”
“Clothes?” Maks prompted, grabbing a wide variety of baby food jars and plastic spoons.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “At least a couple changes.” As they passed racks of clothing, she chose some onesies, pajamas, and a couple outfits with shoes and socks. “This is very nice of Connor.”
“I’ll pay him back,” Maks said.
“You have money?” She hadn’t meant to sound so surprised, but he stopped pushing the cart and frowned at her.
“You think I’d live off my daughter and her lunkhead boyfriend indefinitely?” he asked. “I’ve been on this earth for forty-two years, moppet. Did you think I’d accumulated nothing?”
“Well.” She honestly hadn’t considered it. “I thought, with the army and the captivity…”
“Don’t worry.” He looked very serious suddenly. “I can take care of you and Jackson.” Then, as if he’d said too much, he stepped away to pick out blankets and burp rags.
Jackson didn’t quiet down. A frustrated cry became a wail.
“We better go,” Violet said.
#
Maks piled Jackson’s new gear in Violet’s bedroom in the suite and reluctantly left them alone as Violet began mixing a bottle.
“How did the shopping go?” Connor asked.
Maks was not in the mood to entertain the arrogant boy, but then Ali came through the front door.
“Did you find everything you needed?” she asked.
Was she paler than
the last time he’d seen her? Was that a new bruise peeking above her collar?
“Yes,” he said, digging wadded dollar bills from his pocket. “Thank you.” He put the change in her hands.
“I have something for you too.” Ali gathered a pair of smartphones from the kitchen counter. “These are for you and Violet. The numbers are right there.”
Maks accepted the phones, inspected sticky notes on each, explaining how to use them. “Thank you.”
“Now, we can reach you,” Ali said a little bashfully. “Besides, nowadays, a person can’t exist in society without one. I’ll show you everything it can do. If you want. One of these days.”
“Yes,” he said. “I’d love that.”
The phone in Ali’s pocket chirped. “Julia’s downstairs,” she announced, reading off her screen.
“We should really get the doc room access,” Connor grumbled, heading out to escort the doctor upstairs.
Sliding the new phones into his pockets, Maks thought, and not for the first time, that the group was outgrowing the Le Sort Hotel. Ali and Connor needed a private building they had complete control over, including security. Having human hotel staff in their business wasn’t working.
But their living arrangement had nothing to do with him. His focus was fixing the injustice done to Violet and handing her over to her family, not snooping into Connor’s affairs.
Julia arrived a few minutes later carrying duffel bags. “Ugh,” she said, edging around them into Connor and Ali’s suite and dumping her gear in the foyer. “I need to leave some of this stuff here. My back is killing me transporting all this crap. Or, you know, you could quit needing emergency medical care every half hour.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance.
“You should have told me,” Connor said. “I’ll take care of it.”
Another reason, Maks thought, they needed their own property with space for a mock hospital room and a real armory, not a gun safe in the middle of their dining room.
Julia exhaled and then put on her all-business face. “Where’s my new favorite patient?” she asked.
“In the bedroom feeding Jackson,” Maks said.
“Who’s Jackson?” Julia asked.
“Her baby.”
Julia’s eyes widened.
“Exactly,” Maks said. “She brought a baby into a nest of vipers.”
Julia scowled at him. “Where does a baby belong but with his mother? Jesus, Volk. Can you quit being a dick for two seconds?”
So much for back up from the medical professional.
Julia picked out a stethoscope, her tablet, and a couple other supplies, and then disappeared into the second bedroom. Maks slowly followed.
Violet lay Jackson in the center of the rug to play, and she perched on the edge of the mattress.
“How are you feeling?” Julia asked, checking Violet’s pulse with one hand.
“Hungry and tired, but otherwise okay.” Violet smoothed her hair down, straightened her clothes, and cast Maks a quick look.
Her strength in such miserable circumstances lessened his worry a tiny bit.
Julia took her blood pressure and then checked her pupils. “You’re running a little slow,” she said, “but otherwise you’re perfectly healthy. I’d say, with the curse inside you, you should eat as much as you need to feel normal. Your blood sugar could drop and make you sick.” Julia glanced over her shoulder at Maks. “Make sure she eats. How long until you cancel this curse thing?”
“Trust me, we’re moving as fast as we can,” was the best answer he could give.
“Trust you,” Julia scoffed, turning away. “It wasn’t that long ago you were holding a knife to my throat. I don’t trust you at all.”
Violet frowned at him. “Why would you hurt the doctor?”
“Because,” he answered without thinking, “she was standing between me and Ali.”
Julia shook her head as if disappointed in him. “God bless anyone who stands in your way.” She gathered her things. “I need to check on the others.”
Needing to prove something to the doctor, and probably Violet as well, Maks held open the bedroom door for her. “I’ll come with you.”
She rolled her eyes again, but didn’t refuse.
He cast Violet a last look before gathering the doc’s duffels.
“Going to check on Mercy?” Markus called, abandoning Lukas in the middle of a chess game at the dining room table. “I’m in.”
The three of them ambled into the outer hallway.
“We both know I don’t need your help,” Julia assured Maks. “Whatever your angle is, I’d rather you stay away from me.”
“I don’t have an angle,” he said, struggling to find the right words, which had never been a problem before. Maybe he’d had his head bashed against solid objects too many times in the past few weeks and the brain damage was permanent. Maybe it was Ali and Violet’s influences. Maybe all that torture had finally caught up to him. “I want to prove to you I’m not dangerous.”
“Sounds like an angle to me,” she said, “and you’ve already proven you’re more than dangerous. You’re a fucking disaster, but if you want to hold my bags, I won’t stop you. Just don’t pull any of that sneaky, smarmy vampire crap on me again.”
Scowling, he stepped into the next suite behind her and Markus.
“Mercy needs you the most,” Markus reminded the doc.
“Mercy,” Julia said, “won’t let me get within ten feet of her. I just want to see if the others are gaining weight and not feeling psychotic.”
But Maks understood the pain and confusion Mercy felt, because he’d been in her shoes before. As far as he cared, the rest of the so-called pit vampires could take flying leaps.
“Check on Mercy first,” Maks added. “She was bleeding last time I saw her.”
“Are you telling me what to do again?” Julia snapped. “She’s not interested in treatment.”
“You giving up so easily?”
Julia sighed her annoyance, clearly outnumbered. “Fine. Maybe she’s in a better mood this morning.” She opened the door to Mercy’s bedroom.
Mercy was in the same position she’d been in the last time Maks had seen her—curled up in the corner in pajamas, knees drawn to her chest, rocking and smashing her head against the wall. Her right side was smeared with blood in varying stages of coagulation. After losing so much, she’d need to feed soon or fall prey to her blood lust. None of them would be safe, Violet and Jackson least of all.
“Mercy?” Julia approached cautiously, leaving all her scary medical equipment behind for the moment. “It’s me, Dr. Burke. Do you remember me?”
The woman’s rocking rhythm increased slightly.
“Can I look at your head wound?” Julia asked, stepping closer. “Can I help you get into the shower?” She took another step.
Mercy cried out, “Let me go home!” Her cry morphed into a scream.
Maks pulled Julia behind him and into the doorway before kneeling in front of Mercy. “I know you’re scared,” he said, twisting to see into her eyes. “I know you’re hungry and in pain.”
Silently, Markus crept nearer and, for such an enormous man, sat gracefully at her side.
Mercy stopped screaming, but the rocking didn’t slow.
“You know me,” Maks said. “I’m not one of them. Let me help you into the tub. I won’t touch you, I promise.” Over his shoulder, he asked, “Julia, do you have a blood bag?”
“Of course,” and then under her breath, “because my life is a brand new nightmare. I used to be a doctor. Now, I’m a blood pusher.”
“Toss it.” She did, and he caught it. With his fangs, Maks tore a corner off and handed the packet to Mercy. Tentatively, she sipped. He waited for her to finish the whole thing. “Now, let’s stand up and help you into a bath.”
Using Markus for support, she rose on shaky feet. They led her into the luxurious, marble-tiled bathroom and ran hot water in the whirlpool tub. Without saying a word or removing a stitch
of clothing, Mercy stepped into it and sat, drawing her knees up.
Markus crouched on the far edge, a quiet but larger-than-life presence.
When the water circled her waist, Maks picked up the standard hotel shampoo. “Lie back, Mercy, so I can wash your hair.”
She did, squeezing her eyes shut as the warm water lapped around her face, turning colors as dirt and blood clouded the water. She sat up, and Maks lathered his hands.
“A long time ago,” he said as he gently rubbed shampoo through her long blonde hair, “I used to give Anya baths. She didn’t have as much hair as you do,” he soaped her neck and shoulders, too, breaking up the dried blood, “and she was much squirmier, but it’s basically the same process.”
“Who’s Anya?” she asked.
Maks motioned for her to dunk herself again, and he worked the shampoo bubbles out of her hair. The water changed from pink to a dark brown.
“You’re going to need a shower to rinse off from the bath,” he remarked, amused.
“Who’s Anya?” she asked again.
“She was, she is, my daughter. In a way,” he said, suddenly awkward. “Katya, Anya, and I were a family until Prague. She prefers to be called Ali now, just so you know.”
“I had a baby sister,” Mercy said. “If she’s alive, she’s twenty-one years old. The same age as me.”
Maks frowned, well versed with the jarring sensation of watching people he loved grow up while he was stuck in a kind of stasis.
The bathroom door swung open, and one of the other pit vampires stood in the vestibule. Her strained expression was at odds with a cute jumper, silver stilettoes, and glossy dark curls around a lovely face.
“I heard Mercy talking,” she said. “Where is she?” When she saw Mercy, she shoved Maks out of the way and gifted Markus a sharp elbow. “Mercy? Oh, my God, you’re up.” Her voice overflowed with so much emotion, Maks instinctively edged away.
“Kayla?” Mercy whispered softly, as if confused.
“It’s me, sweetheart. We have to get you out of these clothes. You need a shower, okay, hon? Come on.” Complacent, Mercy nodded and reached for the buttons on her blouse.
“Do you mind?” Kayla snapped at Markus.
