Chapter XXXIII

The Following Day

T he castle was silent for several hours. It seemed no one could bring themselves to speak. Having shunned the idea of comfort, the youngest Titus boys had shut themselves away and cried themselves until tearless. None of them sought reassurance where it seemed pointless; closing themselves off brought the same strike to their cores. They'd seen it with their own eyes, and although they hadn't been able to feel the nearness of their brother before this night due to his lack of aura, seeing him lay upon the floor like an empty husk had been enough to tell them he wasn't coming back.

Hamilton sat unmoved in the arms of his husband. They were together in their bedroom, sitting on a bench positioned in front of their bed. With their cheeks now stained with dry streaks from the blood that'd poured from them through the hours, Demiesius finally made a move to stand and clean himself up.

Unraveling Hamilton from his embrace, Demiesius stepped into their bathroom. He didn't look at himself in the mirror. He didn't want to see what a mess he was sure he currently looked like. Ignoring his reflection entirely, the elder washed his face clean of the bloody tears that'd run down his cheeks. When he was unblemished and dried himself off, he soaked a cloth and took it into the bedroom area. There, he approached Hamilton and knelt before him.

It pained him to see Hamilton this way, so terribly wounded by the events of the night before. It was only now that he realized they were all supposed to spend the rest of the previous night celebrating Lysander's twelfth birthday. The cake was still downstairs, Lysander's presents still wrapped and waiting for him to enjoy.

Touching Hamilton's chin to gently turn his face to look at him, Demiesius used the cloth to clear away his tears. He wanted to tell Hamilton that everything would be okay, but he knew that would be a complete and utter lie even to himself.

For centuries, Demiesius knew what it felt like to lose family. When he'd first been turned by Lilith, he'd lingered around his homeland for many years. He'd watched his mortal parents from afar as they grew old, and then visited both one last time before they passed. He did the same with his younger siblings, the boy he'd taken in as his own back then, and of course he knew what it felt like to lose someone he loved. Three times he'd felt that sorrow, but he never would have thought he'd experience what it was like to live through a parent's worst nightmare.

The loss of a child was heavier than the pressure of the deepest ocean, hurt far more than he assumed suffering the true death ever could, and this inadequateness it carted along with it made Demiesius feel that much more unprepared to face this new world.

But, still, as an immortal with his title, he hadn't much of a choice. In this world, he was a father, a husband, and so much more.

"I must go," Demiesius hated to say.

During the silence that gripped the castle, he'd been telepathically informed by his brother Nabadias about the chaos going on in human spaces. Footage of the night before had spread across the globe, and while the death toll was thankfully small, even the death of two human beings was enough to shake the Earth's foundation.

Mortal leaders were in a panic as to what they should do. Now that humans had irrefutable evidence that beings like them were out there, questions were being thrown everywhere, demands were being made, and apparently the local Humanities were the first to acknowledge the public's fear and curiosity. Soon after them, the US Humanities followed, then the Canadian, Japanese, and Korean and so on and so forth. By the time night fell across England, the truth about immortals was out.

Running his knuckles down Hamilton's cheek, Demiesius said, "I will try not to be long, my love. I only ask that you drink something soon. You have lost too much blood, and I can feel how weakened you have become."

Hamilton said nothing.

"Tell me you will drink something while I am gone." Demiesius needed confirmation that he'd been heard. "Please, my love."

"Away," Hamilton let out in a whisper. "W—While you're away. Gone is…forever. You will come back to me, won't you?"

The sturdiness of Demiesius' shoulders waned, and they sank a bit from the ache in his husband's low tone. "Of course," he said, pressing a fairness to Hamilton's temple. "Always."

With that, Demiesius showered and dressed into black trousers and a buttoned shirt and coat. After allowing his hair to flow down his back, he left the bedroom to check on his youngest sons.

When he first opened Lysander's bedroom, he found it empty, and so was Avery's and Gabriel's, but when he finally made it down to Sebastian's room, he opened the door to find them all together with the Ramus twins.

The twins were on a sofa with their arms crossed, seeming unsure of anything as the sorrow taking up the bodies of these people they considered their friends carried on. Beside Cedric was Avery, feet pulled off the floor as he leaned against the vaewolf's shoulder. He looked as though he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, and they were slightly red at his waterline. As Avery wearily looked upon his father in the doorway, he closed his eyes and let his head rest on Cedric again.

Upon Sebastian's bed lay Lysander and Gabriel; the only two asleep as Sebastian sat on a window seat with blackout drapes. He looked the most awake, obvious resentment having taken shelter in his eyes as he stared at the floor, but that bitterness faded the moment he looked up, and his father was standing in his doorway.

Letting himself in, Demiesius neared Avery and brought a hand to the boy's hair, and he then swept a thumb beneath his son's eye when a tear attempted to leave him. Demiesius hated to see this sadness he could do nothing to suppress from his boys. If he could embrace it all, be the only person to suffer from this crushing loss now withdrawing all usual brightness that filled his home, he would immerse himself in it to save everyone from this newfound agony that would stay with them for a very, very long time.

Keeping his voice low, Demiesius said, "I am unsure how long it will take, but I will be stepping away for a while. Your dad is…he is unwell at the moment. We all are, as it seems, but I ask that you all feed yourselves soon. I do not want weakness to overtake you."

Sebastian stood from the window seat, unable to help being bothered by the fact that his father had responsibilities in other places. Although coming from a man who may as well be a type of royalty had bolstered his ego through the years, sometimes he wished Demiesius could turn it off, but he knew it was best that his father remained a prominent figure right now.

"You're coming back, aren't you?" Sebastian asked.

"Of course," Demiesius nodded assuredly. "After…the events of last night…much of our world has been brought to the surface. I must make assurances elsewhere so that opinions of us do not garner unwanted attention."

"As long as you come home." Sebastian nearly cursed when a blur returned to his eyes, and he swallowed the tears he'd been trying to keep from shedding. He'd always hated crying in front of his brothers, his friends, but even more so now that he found himself the oldest of his young brothers. It was time to grow up, wasn't it? Time to be stronger. And that feeling intensified when he looked from Avery beside the twins, and toward Lysander and Gabriel on his bed. He had to be strong for them as Jeremiah was for them …

"Don't leave us, too, Father," Gabriel spoke up then, coming awake, and he hugged Lysander a bit closer.

"I would never," Demiesius said, leaving a kiss against his son's hair. He then questioned Lucius and Cedric if they wanted to travel home given that they'd stayed through the duration of Halloween to this morning, but when Cedric's arm was clung to by Avery, and Lucius indicated a ‘no', Demiesius let himself out. It seemed they all wished to stay together for a while longer.

Following the pull of Min-jae's presence, Demiesius entered a spacious and faintly lit lounge. Having been placed upon a low divan, Jeremiah's body laid with a blanket over him, the cover leaving his head and shoulders exposed. Beside the divan sat Min-jae. The Korean dhampir's back was to Jeremiah, and he stared vacantly up at the high ceiling. He hadn't moved from Jeremiah's side since the truth of the distant emptiness of his love gripped him.

Switching his gaze to a nearby sofa, Demiesius saw where Min-jae had placed Tae-min to sleep. He'd yet to hear the boy's cry since the night before, but Demiesius was at least glad it didn't appear his grandson was suffering from grief. He would rather Tae-min sleep in peace than mourn in restlessness.

Demiesius wanted to say something, say anything to Min-jae to ease his heart, but the elder knew there was nothing at all he could say that would give solace to Min-jae. At least, not right now. It was far too early, and his sadness was still great; would likely be for a very long time.

Turning then with the intention of mastering to the local Humanities to regroup, when he took a couple steps away from the doorway of the lounge, Demiesius felt the familiar pull of a vampire, and soon Dominick was standing before him. The tensions coupled around his blood child were elevated, so frantic over the situation the human race was now aware of. He questioned what would become of vampirekind now, but most of all, he'd come to ask where his brother was.

Unable to speak of Jeremiah's current state, as Demiesius refused to further acknowledge what had happened, the elder stepped aside and gestured slowly to the threshold of the lounge.

Confused and suddenly afraid given Demiesius' silence, Dominick's fears coursed through his body as he stepped around his father and turned into the lounge. He froze at the sight before him.

"No…" Dominick shook his head, eyes wide, and he reached out without going any further. This couldn't be true! Jeremiah was just...sleeping. "He can't be," Dominick took a step forward, seeming to just notice Min-jae and then stayed back. "Father, I…?"

He didn't know what to say.

"We tried," Demiesius kept his voice to a whisper. "Eros, Nabadias and I, we tried to hold him off ourselves, put him to sleep, but…there was interference."

Feeling a weakness in his knees, Dominick leaned against the doorframe. He didn't want to believe what his eyes were seeing when he looked at Jeremiah. His little brother couldn't be...he couldn't be dead! It felt like just yesterday he was rocking Jeremiah to sleep in his arms, watching him crawl and walk for the first time, celebrating Jeremiah's birthdays when he was small, and laughing with him and comforting him.

Jeremiah couldn't be gone! He was...he was too young, too loved!

Feeling his own heavy heart break, Dominick swallowed the misery eating away inside of him. "Oh, Father," he turned to Demiesius, knowing how bad this must be tormenting him. Dominick bottled his woe and embraced the elder who carefully returned the hold. He clung to the man who'd given him new life many centuries ago, and still was grateful for each night since. "I'm so sorry."

Appreciative for Dominick's concern, Demiesius nodded his thanks to his blood child. "I must leave to settle things," he informed. "The world will no longer be the same after this."

"Shall I travel with you?"

"No," Demiesius answered. "But I ask that you take a moment to speak with Hamilton before returning to your family. I am needed elsewhere for the time being."

Dominick didn't want to see his father leave knowing full well he was hurting, but he nodded as the elder backed away and disappeared.

With his eyes on the still figure of his brother, Dominick neared a bit more, the pressure around his heart intensifying tenfold. Min-jae seemed so frozen where he was; he'd yet to take his eyes off the ceiling, lay acknowledgement on anything else. He was blind, deaf, and unfeeling to his surroundings, and Dominick couldn't help but think of how unfair all of this was.

Dominick hadn't known Min-jae all too well, but he liked to think he knew Jeremiah's heart both inside and out, and for him to love again after all these years, step away from home to be with Min-jae, have a baby with him — there was no mistaking how apparently perfect everything had been before…this.

Touching a hand to Min-jae's shoulder, Dominick whispered his apologies before standing beside Jeremiah. This person he'd watched grow to this point, carried in his arms, chased through these halls, laughed and wished nothing but goodness for, he looked anything but lifeless as he lay with his eyes closed, but the lack of movement and breath spoke against all that.

Not wanting to break, given the others he would have to bring this news to, Dominick braced himself and touched his forehead to Jeremiah's. He was still so warm to the touch, and when he left a kiss as well, the blood child thought his legs might crumble under him when he stood and spotted Tae-min resting across the room. This was unfair, unfair to everyone in these walls, but certainly most unfair to the boy who would know what it was like to lose someone so early on in his life just as Jeremiah had.

Staring at Jeremiah's face as a red blur disrupted his vision, Dominick squeezed his fists as flickering images of what his brother had looked like in different stages of his life came to him. One year old, five years old, ten, thirteen, twenty-one!

Dominick had seen Jeremiah through each phase of his life, but he never considered the idea of seeing him here — in front of an entity's door that should've remained closed forever. Jeremiah didn't deserve this! Where was he now if not here? What was there for a vampire, a dhampir, outside of the plane of immortal existence? Dominick never wanted to know for himself but…was it kind?

Would true death be kind to his brother?

Gritting his teeth, Dominick brought a hand over his eyes when the crimson began to shed. Why you? He thought the almost selfish question. Why you of all people?

"Dammit," Dominick turned from the horrific truth. The longer he looked, the more his sanity would fail him.

Drying his eyes and trekking to the upper floors, Dominick gave a light rap against the bedroom door before him. He received no allowance to enter but opened it anyway.

At the edge of the large bed sat Hamilton with his face buried in his hands, as though he'd made an attempt to stand but failed due to the weight this grievous load perched atop him. A cloth was beside him, stained in red, and the tips of his fingers seemed dipped in crimson paint.

Kneeling before the blond vampire, Dominick consumed his personal misery, and touched Hamilton's hand. He wasn't addressed. It was like he wasn't there, and when he thought back on the various manners he'd once viewed this man, a strange and unbecoming guilt worked its way into him. He wouldn't blame Hamilton for not wanting comfort from him, but he thought the several decades they'd come to know one another would purge the sourness of their long-gone history from them.

Passing his thumb over the back of Hamilton's knuckles, Dominick looked over the marriage ring Demiesius had placed on the former slayer's ring finger. Suddenly, Dominick wished he could return to years prior and be a bit more accepting, a bit less of an arse in their early years so that he could show Hamilton he was and would always be someone he could look to as…as more than just the blood child who'd come with the man he'd eventually called husband.

"Hamilton," Dominick kept his voice light, but still he received no acknowledgement. "Talk to me, Hamilton," he said. "For you to feel this way is understandable, and I wish there was more I could do for you, for Father, but I'm not sure what I can do besides lend my ear if it is needed. Hamilton?"

Dominick pursed his lips as Hamilton's shoulders trembled like another course of tears might begin to shed from him.

"Hamilton," Dominick tried again. "Let me be here for you."

"… "

"Dad?"

The instant the title left Dominick's mouth, the shakiness in Hamilton's shoulders fell apart, and he looked up as though the voice had been more familiar than ever. The waterline of his eyes were red, and the weariness he'd remained awake through was obvious in how half open his eyes were. "Dominick?" he said, at last noticing him, and without thought he burrowed into the receptive embrace when he stood. "Dominick!" He sobbed once more, all of his body shaking in the arms of this person he saw as more than the simple creation of the man he loved.

"I'm here," Dominick said, letting the tight hold last as long as Hamilton needed, and he closed his eyes to fight the urge to cry. It was so damn difficult.

"My baby is gone!" Hamilton wept. "I tried, your father tried, but we couldn't save him! I'm so sorry, Dominick. If I had been stronger, I could have saved your brother from this!"

"Don't say that," Dominick insisted. "No one here is to blame, and I'm sure you did your best. Father has stepped away to handle the changes that will be coming, but none of that matters right now. What's done is done, and as much as it hurts," Dominick could hardly bring himself to say it, "Jeremiah is gone and there are others here who still need you. Sebastian…" Hamilton seemed to flinch when the names of his young sons were spoken. "Avery, Gabriel, and Lysander, even Min-jae and his son; they will need you more than ever. Do not allow this grief to cause you to neglect those who are still here."

After Hamilton washed his face properly in the bathroom, Dominick felt more secure stepping away for the time being. He would have never thought the news he'd be taking home would be so devastating, but he couldn't hold off on it for too long no matter how badly he didn't want to admit to it. Raeden and Jackson needed to know; Zelda and Sienna, as well as Caesar needed to know Jeremiah was…

"If there is anything at all you ever need," Dominick said, watching Hamilton dry his face, "You know I'm only a call away. Alright?" He seemed to go unheard again. "Dad?" Hamilton looked toward him, and Dominick huffed in a bit of amusement. "I'll — I'll be going," Dominick said.

Hamilton nodded. "Please, take care of yourself. You know your father…your father and I…love you so much, Dominick. Even if I might never be more to you, you're like a son to me, and I couldn't love you more if I tried. I'll always love you just the same as your brothers. All of them."

"I know," Dominick blinked the red in his eyes away. "Now go to them. Right now, they need you more than ever."

***

Upon gathering with his brothers and sister in the private assembly hall of the Humanities, Demiesius and others were presented with the details of what had been captured several hours ago. With the use of recordings from CCTV around the city, footage from broadcasting networks, as well as video captured from hundreds of ordinary human beings that'd witnessed the events, it was made clear no hopeful lie could be spun to lead people away from taking the night as nothing more than an elaborate Halloween hoax.

Perhaps if no one lost their lives, people could be made to believe whatever they wanted, but given the two lives lost were prominent and known, there was no getting away from this mess.

Everyone around the world was talking about it, spreading the documented video of people cowering in fear, dead bodies belonging to the officers, and the most frequent thing said by the humans throughout these broadcastings was: "What are we going to do about these things? "

Not wanting this to turn into a debate on whether vampires should now be hunted and feared by the entire human population, there was a suggestion made to speak directly to the world instead of allowing the leaders to say whatever they determined would quell their own. If any form of trust was going to be built between mortals and immortals, they needed to hear words of regret from their mouths and no one else's.

So, that's exactly what the elders readied themselves for.

Firstly, they spoke privately with the Directors to spread their proposal, and when agreements were made, further arrangements were made to inform the other branches of the Humanities of how things would move forward. Given that places like North America and several countries around Europe were among the firsts to report on the incident, Demiesius and Bethania stepped foot before the western regions while Nabadias and Eros handled the East.

Bethania and Demiesius were allowed into an assembly hall they'd been welcomed to through many years, and while the officials of the human race typically regarded them with caution, there was much thicker strain crowding the air than usual. These people were connected to the small percentage of mortals who knew very well vampires existed, but from the aggression seen, the trueness of a vampire in their natural state had always been a mystery.

Most mortals who came into contact with roguish vampires were once members of the old Public, people who were now dead given how much time it'd been since then. Through the decades since the split of the former alliance, the renewed haze that'd blanketed the vampire race brought on more mystery even to the men and women who knew people like Demiesius Titus on a first name basis. With that blanket now being stripped away due to this event, being more afraid of them than usual showed itself.

But Demiesius and Bethania didn't want people to be afraid, at least not afraid enough to believe their people would begin stealing humans during the night for a feeding and killing whoever and whenever they wanted. They didn't live in those times anymore. An entire century hadn't gone by yet since the vampire race could be considered to have been partially unhinged, but these nights in the 21st Century were far different than those prior to 1973.

The grip they had over their own was secure.

From their hearts, Demiesius and Bethania calmly expressed their peace and regret for the lives lost, and they attempted to explain the reasoning behind Jeremiah's sudden burst of rage. They hadn't quite mentioned the Pyrenean but spoke of the break in his mentality.

"My son grew…unwell," was all Demiesius could bring himself to say.

Even with the explanation, they didn't want to minimize the fact that innocent people had died. Demiesius hadn't been there to witness it, and honestly couldn't say he cared much, but those lives were still lives that likely meant something to someone else. They hadn't deserved to be caught by such ill-fate.

Seated before the Directors, despite how cruel they knew he could be when provoked, Demiesius lowered his head, something he'd never once done for a mortal, and he said, "I beg that you consider my sincere remorse for the blood that has been spilled in the city. As you know, my people are not rabid. We are not callus beings. Just like man, we have our faults, our conditions, and my son suffered from a condition we hardly understood. I assure you, an event such as this will never happen again."

A woman seated at the center of the Directors pursed her lips, seeming appreciative of the elder vampire's words, but still the uncertainty could be seen in all their eyes. "How can you be so sure your son will never kill again?" she asked. "If this is an unfortunate condition, can't he suffer from it once more?"

Demiesius paused, able to see the stillness of his firstborn as the vision haunted him. "He will never kill again, because...those who arrived on the scene killed him before I could restrain him. The bullet pierced my chest as well, but my son took the brunt of it."

The Director's held their breath for a second, all of them able to feel the sadness this grieving father emitted. "I am sorry things escalated to that," the woman said. "I must ask, what should we do now? People everywhere saw your son, witnessed his brutality and your clash. He was not painted in a good light for humans, but I will say the sight of your willingness to face him alongside Elder Eros and Nabadias may ensure some faith."

Bethania glanced toward her brother who'd fallen silent. Speaking for them both, she said, "We would like to speak directly to the people, let them see us for more than what my nephew presented to them. We are not vicious people who live to kill. We have not been that way for a good long time. After this event, our only hope is to make certain immortals around the world do not begin living in fear now that the whole of our existence has been brought to light."

The Director nodded, "This also implies an impending return of the Slayer Public. Humans will want to know who will govern vampires who cross the line. A being such as a dhampir has shown how deadly your kind has the potential to be."

"And I assure you all, nothing of this magnitude, greater or lesser, will ever happen again," Bethania promised.

"I understand your want for such a statement to be true, Elder Bethania." The Director went on, "But you have to understand that the mere loss of two human lives will stay in the minds of man for a very long time. The beast that committed this act—."

"Director," Bethania cut in at the utterance of the word ‘beast', but the voice of her brother boomed over what she intended to say.

"My son is dead!" Demiesius shouted, charcoal eyes flashing red and his fists balled, the vein in his temple showing a chance of bursting. "What more would you have?! Did the lot of you not witness as myself and my brothers threw ourselves against his ferocity?" There was baffled outrage in Demiesius' tone as he gripped the wooden armrests of his seat, nearly tearing them away as his elongated talons raked into them. "At last I had him in my grasp until the chance to save him was stolen. My son died in my arms; he is no more. What more could you want?!"

The Directors tensed as well as Bethania from the magnitude of Demiesius' rising ire, and she placed a hand at his arm as if it would hold him off. His temper remained flared, but she carried on in addressing the Directors. "You already know just as well as I that we govern our own across all avenues," Bethania said. "My brothers and I work close enough with each other and those appointed to positions of power. Any and all troubles that may lay in the future will be dealt with according to us."

After settling things with the Humanities and sending notice to government affiliates, it was arranged that Bethania and Demiesius would take to the largest broadcasting networks as Eros and Nabadias did the same.

Simultaneously, they were placed before the world, spoke to numerous people who were fearful and curious, some thrilled, but all levels of emotion were expected when facing the human race. More often than not, curiosity reigned over fear. As they were scrutinized, although some were a bit too aggressive for their liking, getting through the interrogations was all they could do.

The broadcast lasted for two hours, and while there were two sets of elders on each side of the world speaking for themselves, their message was ultimately the same. It was filled with apology and clarification for what their kind was, who Jeremiah was, his mental break, and the fact that he would never do such a thing ever again.

The last inquiries to touch their ears were questions brought by the majority of viewership across the globe; they revolved around what the future was going to be like now that vampires were essentially "out", and how vampires have lived up until then. Where did they get their blood? Why the secrecy? And, lastly, were there other ‘supernatural' creatures out there?

Yes.

But they hadn't entertained the question .

To their knowledge, there were lycans and vampires, witches, and seafolk, skin-changers, and beings closely attached to the spectral realm just as Lilith, but even with what knowledge they carried of other beings, Demiesius and Bethania knew it wasn't their place to bring light to others if it was unwanted. For the lycan race, it would be Caesar and his people's decision to reveal themselves if they wanted, and the same went for the others.

After giving an answer that leaned more toward ignorance on the topic, the broadcast came to a close and the elders gathered at Castle Bane. While everything seemed to have gone smoothly, they knew they'd have a lot of work to do to continue making up for what had happened with Jeremiah. The body count was extremely low, but if there was one thing mankind was good at, it was holding a grudge.

For several more hours, the elders gathered and met with coven leaders to spread word of how differently some aspects of their operations would need to change. With the help of the Humanities, blood offerings would be able to be collected a lot like they had before, but warnings of how readily immortals should reveal themselves were driven in. Businesses were already strict and no mishaps had touched them in so long, but it didn't hurt to move with a lot more caution.

When the clock struck 5:00am the next morning, the elders wrapped things up and headed back to their respective homes.

Demiesius materialized in the foyer, already unconsciously picking up on the despair that gripped his family the moment his shadows dispersed. He made his way in and when he passed the lounge, Jeremiah still lay there, but Min-jae wasn't sitting up beside him anymore. Instead, the Korean dhampir was lying on the floor now, drowning in the mess of loneliness that seized his weeping heart. He was holding on to Jeremiah's hand and refused to let go.

Noticing Tae-min wasn't in the room anymore, Demiesius searched for the boy's presence and found his aura was mingled closely to his husband's upstairs.

Truly lost to what words he could possibly say to Min-jae, Demiesius entered the room anyway, his eyes settling on Jeremiah. Taking to a knee, he placed a hand on Min-jae's shoulder. He was laid on his side with Jeremiah's dangling hand secured in his grasp.

The Korean dhampir blinked but didn't look the elder's way. "You may not think so, but soon you will need proper rest and sustenance," Demiesius said. "Your son will need you most of all, don't you think? Come upstairs, Min-jae."

Not letting go of Jeremiah's hand, Min-jae refused with continued silence.

Knowing he couldn't force Min-jae to get up and leave Jeremiah's side, Demiesius stood and headed upstairs. For nearly the entire day and long into the night, the boys and Hamilton had remained up in a television room where they'd tuned into the broadcast, and there were still clips being run even now.

As the boys were seated together on a sofa, the Ramus twins on either armrest, Dominick was nowhere to be found, and Hamilton met Demiesius in the doorway. The elder was glad to see they were at least out of the darkness of the rooms they'd all shut themselves away in some hours ago.

Dressed in a white nightgown, Hamilton was freshly showered, and his hair was let down. With Tae-min cradled in his arms, he held a crimson bottle to the infant's lips, and when the small boy unlatched, his dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle as a giggle left him and he looked upon Demiesius.

Placing a hand atop the baby's hair, Demiesius passed his thumb gingerly, and said, "We cannot leave him down there forever."

"I know," Hamilton reluctantly agreed. "When night comes again, we will lay our son to rest."