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It’s peaceful out on the balcony. Mia forgot what peace felt like; she has not been visited by something so calm and gentle for a long time, but the night is warm and the stars gleam bright overhead and the courtyard below is still and quiet. Rose is fast asleep in her arms, her tiny breaths puffing against Mia’s collarbone, and right now Mia can almost pretend she never met the Bakers at all. She closes her eyes and bends her neck to nose at Rose’s wispy hair, taking in the soft smell of her child, and the remaining tension in her chest eases. Her shoulders lower, and the breath that leaves her lungs is somehow deeper than the one she drew in only seconds before. She’s not sure she’s ever been able to describe what being relaxed means; at least, not for years, but right now….right now, Mia thinks she may have an idea of it. It’s as bizarre as it is welcome, and not for the first time Mia wonders at the chain of events that led her here. Her life has never exactly been normal by any stretch of the word, but living in a castle with four vampire cannibals and a basement full of thralls is strange even for her. She never could have imagined she’d end up here when she first stormed into Alcina’s castle with nothing but a shotgun and the determination to save her daughter, and Mia wryly muses that she should have thanked Mother Miranda before filling the woman’s head with an entire rifle clip.
The door opens behind her, and Mia turns to see Bela and Cassandra slink out onto the balcony like cats. Their eyes gleam in the starlight, which should be unnerving but isn’t even though both of their gazes are fixed firmly on the bundle in her arms. Mia smiles a little and carefully shifts Rose to give the girls a better look. “We’ve been looking for you,” Cassandra says, curious as she peers at the baby, “we searched the whole castle. Daniela thought maybe you’d wandered into the basement.”
“She only said that so she’d have an excuse to go down there and wrestle the thralls,” sighs Bela, perching on the railing next to Mia and Rose. “Mother told her to stop doing that last week.”
“Mother never gets mad at Daniela,” retorts Cassandra, padding closer until she’s close enough to touch Rose. Mia watches her carefully; she doesn’t think Rose is in danger from any of the inhabitants of the castle, at least not anymore, but Cassandra’s impulses sometimes get the best of her. Cassandra stretches out one inquisitive finger, gently prodding at Rose’s belly through the blankets, and surprise flashes across her face. “She’s squishy!”
“Babies are very squishy,” says Mia, the corner of her mouth crooking as Rose shifts and coos in her sleep. “Careful not to wake her, Cassandra. I just got her to sleep a moment ago.”
“Why do babies sleep so much?” Cassandra sits on the railing opposite Bela, and Mia has the mental image of two wolf cubs, eyes bright beneath the slivered moon. “What’s the use of it?”
“Babies sleep because they’re growing.” Mia turns a bit toward Bela as she speaks, aware of the eldest’s penchant for medical and biological sciences. “It takes a lot of energy. Their cells are dividing, the neurons are connecting, their brains are developing still. That’s why they eat so much, too.”
“We didn’t sleep a lot as children,” says Cassandra, blowing a few strands of ebony hair from her face. Bela snorts.
“We weren’t children, Cass. We were always adults, at least physically.” Bela blinks at Rose, her expression inquisitive but almost a little wary. “We were never that small and fragile.”
Mia almost points out that they were once, before Miranda, but she decides better of it and just leans up against the railing. Rose snoozes peacefully on in her arms, and a second later, Mia feels a warm weight against her shoulder as the side of Cassandra’s head comes to rest upon it. Cassandra’s finger extends again, but this time she gently presses it against Rose’s tiny palm instead of poking at her belly. Rose’s finger reflexively folds around it even though she’s asleep, and Cassandra gasps, face lighting up. “She’s holding my hand!”
“She is. I think she likes you.” Mia hums softly, watching Cassandra’s eyes shine with awe. “She’s never had a big sister before.”
“She has three now,” Bela says, scooting just a little closer. Her hand comes up to hover uncertainly over Rose, and Mia gives her an encouraging smile. Bela swallows tightly before her hand lowers, folding gently over the top of Rose’s head, and she waits for a second like she expects Rose to react somehow. Rose burbles again but gives no other sign she’s noticed the touch, and Bela relaxes, her thumb gently sweeping against Rose’s brow. It’s surprising how gentle the girls can be; Mia has seen them break furniture and plow through stone walls as they gallop around the castle, and the only person she’s ever seen who enjoys a brawl half as much as Daniela is Cassandra. Right now, though, the girls are treating Rosie like she’s made of spun glass, and Mia briefly wonders if they’ll continue to do so once Rose has grown up or if they’ll forget she’s human. Then again, there’s no telling what powers the Cadou will give Rose when she’s older. It’s possible she might be the strongest of all of them.
The thought makes her shudder, a chill skipping down her spine in spite of the warm night air. Bela glances up, brow furrowing inquisitively, but Mia is saved the possibility of an interrogation as the door bangs open and Daniela bounds onto the balcony. “Found you!” crows Daniela, launching herself at Cassandra. Mia hastily pivots out of the way, and she curses quietly as Rose wakes up and begins to fuss. Daniela slams into Cassandra; they tumble backwards over the rail and crash into the bushes twenty feet below, and Bela rolls her eyes as she slips off the railing. Alcina ducks through the doorway a moment later, and Mia is surprised to see that the woman looks concerned, although the expression quickly softens as her eyes land on Mia and Rose. Bela trots up to her mother and gives her a quick but fierce hug before slipping back inside, presumably on her way to extract her younger sisters from the hedges in the courtyard. Alcina, Mia knows, will not be pleased when she sees the mess of crushed shrubbery. “Al?”
“Amelia,” Alcina says, moving closer, “I was wondering where you were.” Her tone is light, but Mia has come to know the woman well enough to detect an undercurrent of relief. “Daniela thought perhaps one of the thralls had gotten to you.”
“I’m sure she did.” Mia starts bouncing Rose, sighing deeply as the baby whines and squirms in her arms. “Shh, honey, go back to sleep….”
“May I?” Alcina extends one massive hand, and Mia only hesitates for a second before carefully transferring Rose over to the crook of her palm. Alcina carefully brings her hand up to her body, a low, rumbling purr starting in her chest as she strokes one finger over Rose’s tiny cheek. Rose’s squirming gradually diminishes, her whimpers dying away with Alcina’s attentions, and Mia watches with interest and maybe a little bit of jealousy. Ethan, in spite of his best efforts, was never a particularly involved parent, and Mia still isn’t used to sharing her daughter. Even so, she can’t deny the warmth in her chest as Rose gradually falls back asleep, looking even tinier than usual in Alcina’s hand. Alcina watches the baby for a long moment, her golden eyes soft, and that warmth flares brighter before the woman turns back to Mia. “There.”
“Th—” Mia’s voice catches, and she clears her throat, her cheeks heating in embarrassment. “Thank you. She’s been fussy all day.” She reaches out, and Alcina gives Rose back without complaint. “I’ll go put her down now.”
Alcina doesn’t respond, simply dipping her head, and Mia quickly leaves, feeling oddly off-kilter. It’s not as though she’s never seen Alcina interact with Rose before; quite the opposite, but something about the scene just now made her heart stutter like she’s a college girl with a crush. Mia shakes her head sharply, nudging open the door to Rose’s room and gently placing the baby in her crib. “Fucks sake, get it together,” Mia mutters to herself. “She’s a cannibalistic vampire aristocrat. You put up with enough of her bullshit already.” She stands there for a moment, watching Rose sleep and trying to get a handle on the flutter beneath her ribs, before turning and making her way back out to the balcony.
Alcina is still there, now accompanied by all three of the girls, sitting cross-legged on the stone balcony. Even seated, her giant form dwarfs them all, and it’s almost absurd how much larger she is than her children. Bela is helping Cassandra and Daniela pick bits of leaf and twig out of their hair, smirking as Alcina lectures her two youngest—“I will not have the prides of my house running amok like common rabble in the courtyard; look at you, you’re a mess and those flower beds will take weeks to grow back!”—while simultaneously wiping smears of sap from Daniela’s cheek and extracting a thorn from the shoulder of Cassandra’s cloak. Cassandra has the decency to look a little abashed, but Daniela just grins brightly, no trace of shame in her expression as she leans her face into Alcina’s careful hand. Mia stops in the doorway, watching them for a moment, and that same warmth rekindles again, a bonfire flaring to life in her chest. Daniela turns and spots Mia, and she jumps to her feet, although she’s kept from moving by Alcina’s hand closing over her shoulder a second later. “Daniela Dimitrescu, did you listen to a word I said??”
“Yes, Mother,” Daniela says impatiently, wiggling out from Alcina’s grip. “Stop making a mess, the bushes aren’t for wrestling, and leave the thralls alone—hi Ma!” She leaps at Mia, although thankfully she restrains herself enough that Mia is merely winded and not crushed to a pulp when Daniela collides with her. “I’m glad you’re not dead! I thought you got eaten.”
“Is that why you went after the thralls?” Mia manages after she gets her breath back, one arm wrapping around Daniela’s shoulders. Daniela laughs and smirks at her.
“Uh huh. No other reason.” Daniela nuzzles Mia’s cheek, then pulls back and grabs her by the hand. “Come on, come sit with us! Mother promised us a story tonight.”
“Not out here,” Alcina says, fixing Daniela with a stern look. “You and your sister are still filthy. I will not have you tracking dirt into the castle, Daniela.”
“But Mama,” Daniela whines, “you promised! Please?” She throws herself at Alcina, who catches her with the ease of someone very accustomed to Daniela’s mannerisms. Cassandra wiggles into Alcina’s lap, and Bela sits back down on the railing. “You can do it out here!”
Alcina looks like she’s going to argue, but then she looks at Mia and, to Mia’s bemusement, her annoyance seems to fade. She sighs, turning back to her girls and resuming her examination, fingers gentle as she picks bits of debris from Daniela’s hair. “Well. Once upon a time, there was a knight who was not truly a knight and a dragon who was very much a dragon. They were sworn enemies, destined by the gods to do battle, but the knight did not trust the gods, fickle as they were. She spoke to the dragon, and the dragon promised her a new beginning if she would only fight by her side instead of against her…”
Mia quietly moves over to the railing, settling down next to Bela. Bela leans her head on Mia’s shoulder, tucking herself into her side, and Cassandra shifts so that she’s still in Alcina’s lap but her back is pressed against Mia’s legs. Alcina’s voice is soft and even as she keeps talking, fishing one last twig from Daniela’s hair and then moving onto Cassandra’s, and Mia lets her eyes close. The night is warm, the breeze gentle and stars steady overhead, and she realizes, with a detached sort of contentment, that this is the safest she’s felt since before Louisiana.
Maybe this is what so many others talk about when they speak of being home.