But just for fun, here's the first two chapters of the novel I wrote in 2007 when I first started NaNoWriMo. I don't know if I'll ever publish this novel... but it holds a special place in my heart.
Yes, it's a vampire story. About seven years ago I was heavily into writing all of that but then I majored in creative writing and discovered my love for romance stories all over again. This one has elements of that, or it will when I rewrite it (if I do).
Please keep in mind that I haven't edited this in about four or five years.
Haunted Desperation
Chapter One
Mama
November 24, 1986
Pennsylvania
Pennsylvania
It was a brilliant cloudless night.
The half-moon filled the vacant ally with its silver glow. This was a rare
sight because smog usually destroyed the view of the sky in the city. She
walked with a frown in a fast, hurried pace. She briefly wondered how long it
had been since she had seen a night this clear. After factories first started
to become an essential need for human life, clear starry nights disappeared. No
matter how much she sometimes wished it, starry nights were never the same as
they were when she was a little girl.
Cecelia hissed under her breath.
She had to stop dwelling.
Pain suddenly shot through the side
of her head as a hand whipped out and slammed her skull into the side of the Spaghetti Warehouse. Little purple stars
danced in front of her eyes. Cecelia shook herself, gaining her wits just
before her attacker’s fist connected with her jaw.
Cecelia’s hand snapped out and
caught the next blow. Her attacker screeched in pain as Cecelia twisted the
woman’s arm behind her back and wrapped her free hand around her neck. Cecelia
dug her nails into the woman’s flesh. The other woman shot her hand forward,
quickly knocking Cecelia’s hand away from her neck. One hand wrenched Cecelia’s
wrist and locked her elbow straight; the other shot out, and choked Cecelia
with a gripping force. The other woman shoved her against the brick wall of the
restaurant.
Cecelia’s hand flew to her
attacker’s wrist. She pressed her nails into the woman’s pallid hand in order
to pry it off.
“Sarka!” she gasped. Sarka’s other
hand hit Cecelia’s shoulder; her thumb digging into the soft location of a
painful pressure point. It weakened Cecelia’s attempt to dig her nails into
Sarka’s hand. Sarka slammed Cecelia’s head into the brick wall a second time.
Red, green, and blue colors swirled in front of Cecelia’s face as pain exploded
through her skull. Sarka pressed harder, determined to ruin Cecelia’s windpipe.
With her other arm, she pinned Cecelia’s own against the wall.
Cecelia forced herself not to give
into the automatic gag reflex.
“You know that won’t work!” Cecelia
gasped out.
“Ah…” said Sarka’s as she dug her
sharp nails into Cecelia's shoulder, “Yet it feels so good after the trouble you got me into with the Kain bitch!”
Cecelia hissed at Sarka.
“It’s not my fault you didn’t have the intelligence to run after I pissed off
an Ancient!” Cecelia coughed as she spoke. Sarka’s hand held fast as she
squeezed, but once again, Cecelia struggled to remove the woman’s hand from her
throat.
Sarka Makovicka was not, and never had been, much of a threat to
Cecelia Nottingham. Sarka’s hand being around Cecelia’s throat only angered her
as she finally gained the advantage, succeeding in twisting Sarka’s hand away.
Cecelia swept her foot around and back into Sarka’s knee, causing the
brown-haired woman’s leg to buckle. Scissoring Sarka’s feet out from under her,
Cecelia grabbed her left wrist, sending Sarka over her head. Sarka landed with
a loud thud as her head slammed into
the pavement, causing her to lay sprawled on her back. Sarka let out a yell
that Cecelia stifled by grinding the heel of her right boot into her throat.
“Let her go, Cecelia!”
Cecelia's eye
twitched at the sound of the voice. It was male; one of Sarka’s sheep who
followed her around as if he were a lost lamb. Cecelia suspected that they had
something else going on the side, but she would never say this aloud. Cecelia
and Sarka fought like cats enough already.
“Why should I?”
Cecelia glared into Sarka’s eyes, ignoring the distraction. Luke was weak; not
a serious threat to her because of his youth.
Click.
Cecelia pricked
her ears; the sound of the cocking hammer on a Smith & Wesson 357 magnum
was unmistakable.
Swearing
violently, Cecelia dived to the ground as Luke fired at her. The bullet
ricocheted off the cement.
“Watch where you
aim that damn thing!” Sarka snarled as she sprang to her feet.
She wished he
would have hit Sarka’s head.
Cecelia sat coiled on all
fours like a crouching panther, eyes boring directly into Luke’s timid face,
which was empowered only by the enormous handgun behind which he cowered.
Cecelia knew that her stare reminded Luke that if not for the gun, she could
have ripped his throat out with no great effort. Cecelia unfurled herself
slowly and shrugged off the previous indignity.
Cecelia crossed
her arms and glared at her opponents, frozen in place as she tried to figure
out what she would do before someone shot at her again.
Another figure dropped from the high rooftop
and landed feet-first elegantly behind Sarka.
Lilliette was Luke’s twin
sister and followed Sarka just as did her brother. She snatched the pistol out
of his hand and fired at Cecelia's head. Lilliette’s aim, however, was no
better than her brother’s. Cecelia turned slowly and glanced at the hole in the
wall, brushing debris from the exploded brick out of her hair.
“Well, you have
my attention,” she finally snarled. “What the hell do you want? Honestly, I
didn’t think Kain would care much about what happened to her follower.”
Lilliette’s deep
forest green eyes darkened. “He wasn’t just her damn follower, he was her brother. You must be a real fool if you don’t think there was some
kind of repercussion for what happened.”
“She roughed you
up a bit?” Cecelia was making pure assumptions. “No problem! Nothing else any
different usually happens when you piss off an Ancient.”
“She killed Fang,” Sarka deadpanned as she narrowed her
eyes, an intense glare clearly visible to Cecelia as the other vampire adjusted
her dress.
1562
Dover,
England
Cecelia sat stiffly in the carriage, her
back as solid as stone. She had just arrived home in England, and was now a few
minutes from the manor. Her fists clenched in her dress as she rang the silk
fabric, unaware that she did so as she glanced out the window. Her family lived
on the outskirts of the village in Dover, away from the cliffs. The setting sun
shed a small amount of light over the landscape, lighting up the acres of green
grass and shrubberies.
The visit to her home in
Italy was not a pleasant one… It had been exciting to see her brothers and her
parents again. This quickly changed once
Cecelia's mother became sick. The family could not make sense of how their
mother became so ill so suddenly. A week into their visit, their mother went to
bed and did not leave until they buried her.
Cecelia purposely did
not let herself. She was about to see her children, and she did not want to let
them see her distraught. She would have taken them with her during the trip,
but her mother-in-law, Amelia, would have never allowed this. Cecelia was
grateful that she did not take them, and now she found herself torn between
being excited to see her children and finally allowing herself to grieve for
her mother.
When a tear threatened
to fall from her face, Cecelia's hand shot up to attack the offending water and
gulped in a large amount of air.
The carriage stopped
suddenly, nearly jostling Cecelia onto the floor. She could hear the horses
whinny, stamping their feet on the ground as the driver shouted something at
them. In confusion, Cecelia stuck her head out of the window to see what was
going on. They were at the gates of her home, built of brick and iron.
“What is the matter?”
she questioned the driver.
“I don’t know, milady!
The horses are just spooked, give me a bit and I’ll calm them down.”
Cecelia frowned,
sticking her head back inside of the carriage and leaning against the seats.
Cecelia wondered if it
was a small creature such as a rabbit. After a few moments, the carriage
started to move again.
Once they were in front
of the doors of the manor, Cecelia did not get the greeting she thought she
would receive. She thought this odd as she walked out of the black carriage.
Amelia was not outside with the children, barking at them to get away from the
bushes or pecking the help. Broderick was not there either. Cecelia knew, however, that he might be away
on business.
She looked at the manor.
It was large, its foundation build on red brick. Shifting her position where
she stood, Cecelia's feet clicked noisily on the stone beneath her feet. No
flowers bloomed on the bushes, which surrounded the steps, as it was fall.
Upset that no one
greeted her, Cecelia passed it on as either everyone being busy or not
realizing that she was home yet. Her return home was late, pushed back because
her mother became sick.
“Will you see to it that
my things are brought in?” she asked the driver as she climbed from the
carriage.
“Yes, milady, I will see
to it,” the driver said. “I wonder… Why there is no one around?”
Cecelia shivered,
soaking in more of her surroundings as she analyzed why no one was outside to
greet her. It was darker now, so she could not really see anything except for
the torches, which were lit as soon as the sun started to set. Leaves lay
unmanaged on the ground as she walked up the steps of her home.
“Hello?” she called out
as she entered the hall of the manor. Her shoes continued to click against the
stone ground. Cecelia shivered again, colder in the manor than she was outside
before. “Is anyone home?”
When no one answered,
Cecelia reasoned again that everyone must be busy. She looked outside of one of
the windows and saw the driver of the carriage unpacking her things.
She was such a silly
woman. She was sure she had nothing to worry about.
With that resolve set in
place, Cecelia headed in the direction of the nursery. Her children would have
been sent to bed by the time the sun started to set. She had been away from her
children for nearly a month, and the urge to see them was overwhelming. If
Cecelia did not see them now, she would have to wait until morning.
The thought was painful.
She was not greeted by soft snores by little Estella or a
laughing, shrieking Broderick because he was naughty and liked to stay up
late.
The sight of blood
instead greeted her.
Cecelia stumbled over
something large, falling to the ground. Looking to see what she had tripped
over, she saw her husband’s surprised face staring back at her. His sword lay
inches from his lifeless hand. Cecelia's eyes uncontrollably followed a trail
of blood from the gaping wound in Broderick’s neck, to the spot where her hands
had broken her fall, and back again. Cecelia brought both hands in front of her
face and saw that they too were now covered in blood. Through them, she saw
another still form wrapped tightly inside her husband’s large overcoat. From
its hair and cloth she knew it to be her son.
Cecelia screamed and
collapsed into her bloodied hands.
Dead! Both dead!
Cecelia frantically scanned the room,
searching for her daughter, Estella. Through burning tears and heaving sobs,
she saw a woman cradling Estella in her arms, swaying gently as if rocking the
child to sleep. Hope welled in her chest as Cecelia reached toward her
daughter. She staggered forward to claim her child.
“Est…” her words were
broken by the sight of a red line dripping down the back of her daughter’s
frilly white dress. She followed the line back to the tall woman’s face, which
she could now see was buried deeply into little Estella's limp neck. Cecelia
screamed once more hoarsely, choking on her breath.
With Cecelia's scream,
the woman brought her attention from the child’s neck to Cecelia herself. The
woman dropped Estella's fragile body to the ground, and Cecelia could now see
the woman’s face, her mouth spattered with blood.
Before Cecelia had time to let out
another scream, the monster narrowed her eyes and rushed at her.
She was stupid. She
should have been running out of there like a bat out of hell. Dwelling on the
past always got her into further trouble.
Tired and sore as she
walked inside of her apartment building, Cecelia limped all the way to her
door. It was on the second floor and her left boot torn at the heel, still
loosely attached. She did not have the energy to reach down and yank it off.
“Ow! Fuck!”
A slew profanity
flew from Cecelia's mouth when she clipped a nail on the fabric of her jeans as
she reached for her keys. She swore at Sarka specifically, grumbling words such
as “sheep, rotten cow, bloody stalker” amongst her long, breathless ranting.
As she fumbled
more for her keys, Cecelia considered the reasons she and Sarka hated each
other so.
This was for about a nanosecond before she
muttered, “Fucking gypsy!”
Many times the
two women got into fights over the years. Sarka and Cecelia first came across
each other about two-hundred years ago, butting heads immediately. Sarka was
always under the impression that Cecelia was trying to invade the privacy that
Sarka claimed for herself.
Sarka had always
been a ridiculous woman. Cecelia knew she should just find a way to kill her
already. She could not believe Sarka actually followed her to the United States.
She fumbled more
with the keys. Her hands were bleeding from scratches from Sarka’s ridiculously
long nails.
Cecelia's hair
was now tangled, flattened, and would not cooperate as her hands sought to
remove her bangs from her face. Sarka and her sheep accomplished nothing in
attacking her other than to insult her and ruin her perm.
“Cow… if I ever
see her again I’m throwing her from a building…” Cecelia grumbled to herself
some more.
Cecelia knew she
had made a mistake. She attacked an Ancient’s brother. Keaira and Ayesha Kain
were not well versed in forgiving. Cecelia did not even know where the Ancients
came from, and she tried to avoid them as much as possible. The only one she
knew was Sarka, and she would not go
away. She did not regret that she got Sarka’s lover killed.
He should not
have been there.
Fang was as
annoying as his girlfriend; more so when he tried to protect Sarka from
Cecelia's wrath. The two women butted heads often in downtown Philadelphia at
night.
Finally jabbing
the key into the door, Cecelia had reasoned that she was going to move. This
move, however, would take place after a nice, long bath…and an even longer drink. A noise in the hallway
interrupted her musings.
Cecelia sighed
and closed her eyes as she became aware of the presence of the second most annoying woman Cecelia had
ever met. She posed, however, no bodily
threat to Cecelia. Like most mortals, the woman usually slept at night, which
usually allowed Cecelia to excuse herself from her exasperating qualities…
except at times like this, when she knocked on Cecelia's door at eight o’clock
in the morning.
“What happened to
you?” the woman gasped out.
Cecelia was well
aware that she probably looked like a fright. The left heel on her boot dangled
loosely, and her favorite blue silk blouse was torn at the shoulder.
Cecelia knew her
night would not end until she dealt with Didi Nott.
Cecelia pulled
the keys from her door, reluctant to let Didi know that she heard her.
“It was nothing,”
she finally said quietly.
“Nothing?!”
replied Didi.
Cecelia wanted to
run into her apartment; her blonde neighbor shrieked loudly enough to wake up
their other neighbors.
“Don’t tell me
it’s nothing! Your clothes are all ripped!”
Cecelia turned to
look at the woman. She was short, a bit on the heavy side, and her blonde hair
was chopped back to her chin. She wore flannel pajamas and bunny slippers—bright
pink. Cecelia wanted to cringe at the sight. She was more accustomed to
sleeping in either silk or nothing.
Didi’s voice was
shrill whenever she spoke.
Cecelia flexed
her fingers.
Damn her. She
never knew when to give it up. What would Cecelia do to get Didi to go away
this time? She did not want to kill her. She rather liked her apartment—but
what was she going to do? There was a very real chance Sarka would be banging
on Cecelia’s door later because their argument had not been settled properly.
She fought with
herself silently as Didi ranted on about how Cecelia could trust her and that
they could talk. Cecelia did not doubt that the woman was a good listener when
she was not butting into other women’s business, but she had never been the
type of woman to talk about her problems. Cecelia especially would not do that
now as she depended solely on herself.
Through her fight and
inner turmoil in deciding what she wanted to do to get rid of Didi, Cecelia
found her eyes wandering toward the woman’s neck. Her mouth started to
salivate. She could feel her fangs elongate as she thought about feeding.
Cecelia smiled
viciously at her with closed lips.
“A man tried to
mug me,” Cecelia said simply. She turned up the tone of her voice and quivered
in an act to lure the blonde mortal into her trap.
“Mug you? God,
are you all right?”
Cecelia gave
another fake shiver. “I managed to fight him off.”
“You need to call
the cops!”
“Oh no, no don’t
worry,” Cecelia said, trying to calm her down before she screamed anymore. “I
did!” She was shocked one of her blood vessels in her brain had not popped by
now by the way Didi acted.
Didi tried to
talk some more, ready to jabber on some more nonsense about being careful; how
much some of the people in town were “creeps,” before Cecelia grew impatient
with her blabbering.
“Was there
something you needed, Didi?”
“Oh… I just wanted to know if I
could borrow some sugar for my coffee… but that’s so not something that I need
now! Are you really sure you’re all
right? That must have been such a horrible experience…”
Cecelia's patience almost dissipated
completely.
A stray piece of black bangs flew
into her face. Cecelia swept the offending hair from her eyes. “It wasn’t
exactly something I haven’t dealt with before.” That comment went over Didi’s
head, as Cecelia had been partially muttering. “You need sugar, you say?”
Didi looked at her in confusion a moment.
“Yeah…but that isn’t something I need
now! Are you sure you’re okay? You
must be in shock after something so traumatic!”
“No, Didi,” Cecelia protested. “I’m
fine, a little tired, but it’s all right. I might have some…”
“I said I don’t need it now!”
“Nah, I insist! Hold on for a second
and I’ll bring it over to your apartment.” Cecelia could tell that Didi was a
little unconcerned now about what happened to her since she let her know that
she took care of the problem herself. “Now that I think about it, I really could use someone to talk to.”
She motioned towards her ripped blouse. “The creep had his hands all over me!”
“God, what a bastard!”
Cecelia feigned distress and nodded
at her.
Cecelia had no intention of getting
sugar as she followed Didi down the hall.
She waited for a few seconds while
Didi opened her own door. Cecelia tapped her on the shoulder. Didi nearly
jumped out of her skin. By the time Didi realized that Cecelia followed her,
Cecelia had managed to conjure up a few fake tears.
That was hard for her to do. She had
not cried for nearly three hundred years.
“I forgot! I’m out of sugar!” she
wailed.
Didi relaxed when she realized it
was only Cecelia, and the blonde put a comforting hand on her shoulder. The
warmth of Didi’s hand made Cecelia’s skin tingle, and she could hear the
mortal’s heartbeat now that she had finally decided to listen.
She felt hungrier now than she did
just a few moments ago.
“It’s okay, sweetie. I can always
run to the store later. Come on, do you want to talk about what happened?”
As soon as Didi shut her door,
Cecelia launched herself at the woman’s throat. She bit down hard into her
neck. Didi tried to scream, but Cecelia's left hand clapped over her mouth,
muffling her cries for help. Cecelia bit harder, severing blood vessels as she
drink the warm, metallic tasting liquid at a leisurely pace.
Warmth spread throughout her entire
being. Cecelia felt better after the bad night she had. She continued to drink
until she was sure most of the woman’s blood was gone, then she stopped. Didi
was not dead yet… Cecelia surveyed the work that she did on her neck, feeling a
small bit of satisfaction when she saw the big, gaping wound. Some blood
dribbled down Didi’s throat, and Cecelia reached down and licked it off before
she pulled back again.
With both hands, she grabbed Didi’s
head and twisted with a violent jerk. Cecelia had a firm
no-letting-any-victims-live rule.
Cecelia let go of the body and let
it fall to the floor. It hit the ground with a thud. Cecelia took a step back as a bit of blood splattered on the
floor.
Cecelia was just about to pick up
the corpse and leave the woman’s apartment when she realized there was another
heartbeat in the room. Cecelia tried to ignore the sound even though it thudded
in her head.
Then the thing with the heartbeat started to wail the loud hungry
cries of an infant.
Cecelia looked down at Didi.
“Fuck!”
She had just killed a mother.
How did Didi ever escape informing Cecelia she had a child?
Cecelia had been careless. She loved to kill. She would kill
nearly anyone who angered her, yet she always tried to stay away from parents.
The child continued to cry. Cecelia’s eye twitched. She
contemplated leaving it while she disposed of its mother’s body.
The voice of Amelia, Cecelia's mother-in-law, haunted her, “You’re so irresponsible! How could you leave
a child crying for so long?”
Even now, after so many years, she still remembered some of the
things that woman said to her.
Her eye twitched again. She stood and contemplated more. The baby
continued to scream.
She would just kill the kid too.
Cecelia stormed into the room from whence the cries of the infant
came. She first noticed the pink blankets, stuffed animals, and baby mobile.
She crossed the floor to reach the baby, nearly grabbing it before she froze.
The little girl was dressed
in a small, pink shirt with rabbits. Cecelia guessed that the baby was around
two months old.
She was adorable.
Cecelia cringed at the cuteness.
The baby had tears in her eyes as she gasped and sniffled. Her
tiny blanket was kicked all the way to the other side of the crib. Cecelia
peered down at her.
The infant looked up at Cecelia when she realized there was a
female presence in the room. She reached up, sniffing slightly. She was no
longer crying. Cecelia sneered for a moment and inched away.
What was she doing? She was acting insane. She could not take care
of a child. There was a very real possibility she might decide to eat her. No,
it would not do her any good to take the child. Cecelia knew a lot of trouble
would come along with the responsibility of raising a child, and she did not
want the headache.
Cecelia remembered her own little girl… Little Estella…
She wanted to raise it.
A small voice in the back of her
head called her crazy.
However, she reasoned, the child had
a better chance with her than by living with a dead mother lying around.
For the next twenty-one years, Cecelia had the best reason in the
world to stay away from the world of vampires.
Chapter Two
Sedentary
The baby gurgled as she looked up at her new mother.
Cecelia suppressed a sigh, her left hand shooting up to
the ceiling of the taxi when it unexpectedly crossed over a speed bump. Cecelia
scowled as she looked at the bald man directly in the eyes through the rearview
mirror.
“Maybe if you stopped trying to look at my breasts, you
wouldn’t send us flying into the front seat!”
Startled, the driver quickly flashed his eyes back to the
road.
She was screwed if this didn’t work. There was no way she
could have stayed in Philadelphia. Cecelia’s eyes narrowed as she thought about
why she could not stay there. Sarka wouldn’t rest until she drove away her
sanity. Cecelia absently smoothed back the baby’s nonexistent hair as she
became engrossed in her thoughts. The baby kicked. Her messy swaddle was no
longer tight around her small body. Cecelia tried to fix it, but couldn’t
because her hands shook nervously.
Suddenly she was sure he would not
help her.
Cecelia started chewing her lower
lip. The taxi driver had taken his eyes off the road again. She used her new
daughter as a shield from his roaming eyes.
“Keep your eyes on the road!”
The baby continued to fuss as the man snapped his eyes
back to where they belonged. When the driver flew over the second speed bump,
Cecelia barely managed to steady herself and the baby. She was nearly thrown to
the other side of the back seat.
“Okay, so that’ll be seventy—”
“Like hell I’m giving you that much!” Cecelia looked at
him sharply. “You’re an incompetent driver.” She quickly dug a twenty out of
her jeans. “Now get out of here!”
“Hey now, lady, you can’t just do that! A ride from
Philly to Bucks ain’t cheap!”
She exited the car with the baby carefully then slammed
the door so hard the glass cracked.
“What the hell!? Now you owe me more money!”
She carefully balanced the baby in one arm as she walked
around to the front of the car. The driver started to get out of his car as he
yelled, but Cecelia banged her fist hard on the hood of the cab. The metal
crumpled under her fist and the baby squirmed in her right arm and started to
cry.
Cecelia took pleasure in watching the driver’s eyes as
they widened in fear as she continued to crush the metal of the car. He looked
like he wanted to get out for a moment, but then she hissed at him, baring her
fangs.
The cab squealed out of the driveway, flying over the
speed bumps faster than before. Cecelia grinned slyly to herself as she
tightened her hold on the baby, rocking her back and forth.
“Shush little one. Mummy had to chase away the bad man,”
she cooed as she started to walk up the rest of the driveway.
Cecelia continued to feel hungry, and wondered if perhaps
her new baby was just as hungry as she was.
How was she going to accomplish the feat of raising a
child? The scent of the baby’s blood made Cecelia’s nose flare. Besides, should
she really have come here? Would he be able to control himself around her new
child?
Cecelia steeled herself for the worst. She could never be
certain of any outcomes of the decisions she made for herself. While her plans
were usually calculated, they sometimes had repercussions. Bouncing the baby
more as she walked to the front door, Cecelia forced herself to take in a
breath as she looked at the house.
Cecelia would never be able to overcome the awe she felt
whenever she saw the old Victorian home. It had been completely remodeled since
it was built in the eighteen-hundreds, the entire front end redone in the
fifties. Cecelia knew this because she had been there when it was done. The
driveway was added a few years later, large and able to hold three cars. The
brick laid as a part of the foundation of the house was original. It was a far
cry from the small castle she lived in Dover when she was a mortal woman, but
Cecelia had always loved this house.
Cecelia forced herself to take a breath, even though she
did not really need it, and walked onto the porch.
“You haven’t changed.”
The voice startled Cecelia so badly that she nearly
dropped the bundle in her arms.
“Brennan!” she gasped. “Why do you always do that to me?”
Brennan stood at the entrance of his house, arms crossed
as he leaned against the doorframe. Cecelia’s eyes swept over him, looking for
any changes in his appearance that might have occurred.
His hair was a fiery red, with long curls which reached
his waistline. Brennan was a very old vampire, but he did not look like he was
a day older than twenty-five. He stood at around six feet tall and wore only a
black t-shirt and blue jeans.
“I only do it for fun,” he replied, amusement laced in
his voice.
“I ought to rip your throat out,” Cecelia narrowed her
eyes at him.
Brennan as he opened the front door wider. “Come in.”
Cecelia did not budge. She took a few steps back when she
noticed Brennan take in a breath.
“Aw, Cecelia love, I haven’t seen you in nearly ten
years! There’s no reason to be so hateful,” Brennan said, crossing his arms.
Carefully holding the baby in one arm, Cecelia placed her
other arm on her hip. “If I remember correctly, you told me to leave because I
refused—”
Brennan laughed, shrugging his wide shoulders. “It’s all
in the past now, Cece.”
Cecelia scowled. “That’s another reason I haven’t come
back.”
“You want something. What is that you have in your arms?”
Without answering him, Cecelia merely turned around.
It was a big
mistake thinking she could come to him for help. She would just have to do
something else. She could do it. Cecelia had the resources. She didn’t plan on
staying at Brennan’s that long, anyway. She just had to have a place she could
stay so Sarka wouldn’t find her right away. Those thoughts made Cecelia
uncomfortable and very aware of the baby in her arms as she adjusted her. The
baby made a sort of cooing sound when she did so. Cecelia clenched her jaw
because she knew Brennan must have heard that.
“Oh come on! Don’t be like that, Cece!”
Cecelia tensed at the use of the nickname. She continued
to walk.
“Really, come on, I’ll stop. You need something… and I
haven’t seen you in a really long time.”
Cecelia whipped round, her eyes narrowing to slits as she
looked at Brennan. She was a off the porch. As she looked up at him, she tried
to figure out whatever drove her to seek help in this man at all.
“You know it wasn’t that
long.”
“A lot changes in ten years, Cecelia.”
Cecelia closed her eyes for a second than said, “Sarka is
still a bitch.”
“Oh! So that’s what
this is about? What did she do this time?”
Cecelia hissed at the mention of the woman’s voice and
the way that Brennan seemed to become further amused. It was as if he could
never be serious about anything and was on the brink of cracking a joke about
her constant fighting with Sarka.
“Is it something to do with the baby in your arms?” he
asked, genuinely concerned now. The baby started to fuss in her arms and
Cecelia quickly tried to sooth her. “I really didn’t think vampires could get
pregnant.”
Cecelia rolled her eyes. “You know that isn’t possible. I
killed her mother.”
In the shallow light of the street lamps, Cecelia saw
Brennan wince. “Ouch. That’s low,
even for you.”
“I don’t want to hear about it—”
“I don’t have anything to hear. Why do you have the kid?”
Cecelia paused, considering what it was that she really
did want with the child and what to say in response to Brennan. She looked down
at the baby, pushing the pink blanket from her face. The child looked up at her
curiously, and she knew why she had not left her immediately.
“It didn’t seem like she had a father around and it would
have been irresponsible.”
“I’m glad to see that you are starting to get your morals
straight.”
Cecelia’s eyes snapped from the baby’s face to glare at
Brennan. The hiss bubbled up to the tip of her tongue, but she forced it back.
She had to force herself to not be harsh towards Brennan,
so she closed her eyes and sucked in a breath.
“You said once that I could come to you if I ever needed
it,” she said. “I’m here to take up that offer.”
“Whoa! You left
because you said that you couldn’t stand acting like a perfect wife! I don’t
know anything about raising a kid…” Brennan protested immediately. “Besides,
don’t you think it’s a bad idea for
two—” Brennan stopped himself, looking around outside. Cecelia cocked her head
to the side so that she could study him for a moment as she tried to figure out
why. “Listen, the only way I want to continue this is inside.”
“…All right,” Cecelia replied, reluctantly following him.
Brennan moved like a large lion, his movements fluid and leisurely. She walked
much in the same manner, and would not have normally noticed that sort of
thing… except that she found her eyes absentmindedly moving towards his rear
end.
That hadn’t changed either.
Cecelia caught herself quickly and snapped her head way
from Brennan’s backside.
The living room was just as stunning as the outside of
the house, if not more so. There was a large white fireplace in the wall next
to two windows. An oak floor surrounded the metal outlay of the fireplace and
the rest of the floor was covered in a plush white carpet. A large TV sat on
the other side of the living room. A large blue sofa sat in front of the TV.
“It’s not a good idea for two vampires to raise a human
kid.”
Cecelia scoffed. “Why is the idea so preposterous?”
Brennan looked at Cecelia as if she lost her mind.
Maybe she had.
“Are you kidding me? You’re the blood-thirstiest woman
I’ve ever known!”
Cecelia laughed. “That’s ridiculous—”
Brennan barked out a laugh this time. “Are you forgetting
about what you did in London after you were turned into a vampire? In India?
Prague?”
Cecelia shut her mouth, knowing that if she tried to
protest anymore, Brennan would have an even better reason to shoot down
anything she brushed off as false.
“…I feel like I have
to take care of her.” Cecelia reluctantly admitted after a few moments of
silence. She walked over to the sofa and sat down, adjusting the baby
carefully. She had fallen asleep. The baby cooed at her with wide little eyes.
When she noticed the added weight to the couch, Cecelia
turned to look at Brennan. His arms were crossed as he thought about what she
said to him.
“Don’t you think that you’re trying to hold onto the past
by doing this? She’s not your daughter. No one can ever replace your children.”
“What do you mean?” Cecelia half laughed, half scoffed at
him. “You know I don’t ever think
about that. It’s rubbish. It’s already happened—”The baby grabbed one of
Cecelia’s fingers, completely distracting her from what she had been saying.
“Which is exactly why you grabbed this baby after you
killed her mother,” Brennan said. “Come on, if anyone knows you at all, it’s
me.”
“I’m raising the kid. You can help me or I can leave,”
Cecelia snapped at him in an attempt to change the subject. “I came to you
because I don’t think I can do this
alone. You’re more resistant to the sunlight than I am.”
Brennan laughed. “So that’s how it’s going to be! You’re
using me for my big house and ability to chase after a kid during the day, eh?”
Cecelia looked down at the child. “I want her to have a
normal, mortal life.”
“You realize that is going to be hard, right? What will
you do when she’s old enough? Change her into a vampire?”
Cecelia glared at Brennan. “I’ll never let that happen.”
“You’re acting rash.”
“I think I’m going to name her Estella.”
“Yeah… You’re really
living in the past…” Brennan sighed. Cecelia could tell he wanted to
convince her that it was a bad idea. It was, but Cecelia did not want to
listen. “How do you know that she won’t notice how weird her parents are when
she’s older? We’re not in the fifteen-hundreds anymore, Cece.”
Cecelia ignored him as she continued to look at the baby.
“If you are in the middle of an argument with Sarka
again, I don’t think I want you both here,” Brennan finally said after a few
moments.
Cecelia rolled her eyes at him.
“I’m here because I want to stay away from her, not to
bring drama to you,” she said. Cecelia looked down at the baby, not quite sure
what she needed to do with her as the child looked up at her.
He crossed his arms.
Cecelia sighed as she continued to look at Estella, and
stood.
“Besides…I’ve missed you.”
“Really?” he asked. Cecelia nodded. “Well, I guess having
you around wouldn’t hurt.”
Brennan grinned than leaned forward to kiss her briefly
on the lips.
“Welcome home.”
