4. Immortal Children

FOUR

immortal children

Micah drops us off at the lycan-owned house we've been staying in since Thorne's home was destroyed. My mind won't stop replaying the events of the day, ending with the death of Gretchen. I was that girl at one time. I was Gretchen. The only thing separating the two of us is age.

"Amelia's downstairs," Thorne says softly, entering our shared room.

"I don't feel like company."

He scuffs his heavy boots on the wide plank floors. "I understand. But I think you should talk to her."

Throwing my phone onto the bed, I stand, moving into the hallway. I'm not sure what she would want to talk to me about. Any awe I felt for her left the moment she killed Gretchen. I don't speak as I follow Thorne downstairs and into the room where Amelia is sitting alone on the overstuffed Victorian couch .

"Thorne, would you mind if I speak to Elsbeth alone?"

"Of course not," he answers. He bows his head slightly before leaving us alone.

"I'm sorry about today." I don't respond. I don't trust my words right now. She looks at her hands before continuing. "I understand how you feel. What I had to do today wasn't easy for me either."

"But you did it, anyway."

"I did. I had no choice. We had no choice."

"You always have a choice," I retort.

"Not when it comes to immortal children."

I stand, moving toward the fireplace. "You said your maker is an immortal child. What makes her different than Gretchen? Why did she get to live?"

"My maker is nearly eight hundred years old and was protected by a man who loved her more than himself." She pauses at a memory. "Her father had himself turned into a vampire to protect her after she was turned."

"Where is she now?"

Amelia laughs. "She's attending college in Mississippi."

"College? A child?"

"She's no longer a child. That's a story for another day." She slides to the front of the couch. "Celeste isn't normal. Most immortal children are like Gretchen. They lack the ability to control their impulses. They can't control the monster inside of them. I once witnessed Celeste destroy a horde of strigoi by herself. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. The difference is that she was able to stop. Most can't."

"You love her?" My words are more of a statement than a question.

"I do. She acts like my mother, but I love her like she's my sister."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know how painful it is to see something like that. I know the horror that fills you at the thought of children becoming monsters. I understand."

"How can you? Were you taken against your will and forced to become this?" I run my hands down my body, adding extra drama.

"Yes," she answers simply. "Not in the same way you were, but I had no choice in becoming a vampire. Hell, I had no choice in becoming a lycan hybrid. I'm a damn freak of nature." She laughs. "I'm even a freak among the paranormal community. Most are terrified of me, and others want to fuck me."

"I wouldn't have been able to do it." Amelia knows what I mean.

She closes her eyes. "It wasn't easy, but it was necessary." She looks me in the eyes. "We're not so different, you and me."

"Last I checked, I can't turn into a wolf on demand."

Amelia smirks at my words. "That's probably for the best."

The front door opens, revealing two oversized lycan. Topher moves straight to Amelia, kissing her on the forehead. "I checked with Aunt Susan. Edon is doing great, but she thinks he might be teething."

"My baby is growing teeth, and I'm not there to see it?" Sadness covers her face.

"Don't worry. He'll gain plenty more," Topher says, pulling her to his chest.

"Elijah would like to meet with us," Micah says from the foyer.

"What's the point? He didn't know anything," Amelia asks.

"He's the one that requested a meeting this time. I'm guessing he knows more than he let on before."

"Or he's going to try to kill all of us," Thorne adds, coming into the room. "Sorry, I was eavesdropping. When's the meeting?"

"In half an hour at his home," Micah answers.

"Am I the only one who feels this is a little weird?" I look around the room as I speak. "What could he possibly know that he couldn't tell us earlier?"

"In his defense, he was surrounded by people he didn't know or trust. Maybe he was intimidated." Micah moves into the room. "I've known Elijah since I was a boy. He's worked with my father many times over the years and has always been honest."

Thirty minutes later, we pull in front of a house that rivals vampire homes from B-roll movies. The Gothic Greek design features a two-story turret and a dark nearly black brick exterior. "This isn't obvious at all," I say, sliding out of the back seat.

"This is something Viktor would do," Amelia laughs.

I turn toward Thorne. "Viktor? The same Viktor that was your maker?"

"Aye," he answers. "It's a long story."

"That's an understatement," Amelia adds, following the lycan to the entrance.

The heavy wooden door opens, revealing a young woman dressed in a French maid's uniform. "Welcome," she says, bowing her head. "My master was expecting you."

Master? This is getting better by the minute. We pile into the elaborately decorated foyer, awaiting our next instructions. Hunter green wallpaper, covered in large bouquets of blue hydrangeas, lines the walls from floor to ceiling, giving the home funeral home vibes.

"Please, have a seat. I'll alert him of your arrival." She turns, leaving us alone in the opulently designed sitting area. A fireplace with a dark wooden mantle is the showpiece of the room. To the right of it sits a chair that reminds me of something you'd find on death row, complete with the straps for ankles and wrists. I half expect to see a coffin in the dining room.

"Welcome," Elijah says, entering the sitting area. "Thank you for taking me up on my invitation." He moves straight for the death chair. He sits, crossing his legs at the knee and laying his hands neatly on top. His body language is screaming asshole.

"Thank you for the invitation," Micah answers for our group.

"Would anyone care for a drink?" He snaps his fingers, bringing the woman from earlier back into the room.

"Cut the shit, Elijah," Amelia interrupts from across the room. "No one wants anything to drink or eat." She looks around the room, holding my eye contact longer than anyone else. "What are you hiding?"

The vampire clears his throat and sits up even straighter. "I'm not hiding anything and don't appreciate the implication that I am."

"No one's implying you are hiding anything." Micah tries to ease the tension filling the room.

"We found a child today," I add, hoping to rescue the conversation. "She couldn't have been older than six or seven when she was turned."

"A child? You mean an immortal child?" Elijah asks.

"Aye," Thorne speaks for the first time. "She told us there were ten more just like her."

"Oh, my." Elijah relaxes his posture with Thorne's words.

"Any information you have on Patrice would be great about now," Amelia continues, calming her tone from earlier.

"A horde of immortal children serves only one purpose," Elijah continues. "Destruction. "

"Destruction of what?" I ask.

"Anything and everything." Elijah stands, moving toward the fireplace. "What became of the child?"

"She was…taken care of," Amelia answers. "But there are more just like her."

Elijah sighs deeply before speaking. "Patrice is someone I knew from long ago." He picks up a glass of red liquid and drinks it in one gulp. "Our makers were…acquaintances." None of us speak, nervous he won't continue. "Patrice was turned a few years before me, and our makers decided it would be best for us to learn from each other." He moves toward a cart in the corner, pouring another glass of liquid.

"What do you mean by learn ?" Topher asks.

"It means just what you think it means." Elijah takes another large gulp. "We were lovers, hunting partners, and more for many years."

"What does this have to do with the immortal children?" Amelia asks.

He sets the empty glass down before facing us. "Because to understand Patrice, you must first know who and what she is." He moves back to the death chair. "Patrice was from Egypt, and I was from what is now known as Ghana. I don't know how she ended up in my country, but it was there that she was altered . It wasn't until we'd been together for several decades that she began to change."

"What kind of change," I interrupt.

"She began talking about wanting a child. She knew she would never be able to produce an offspring, and that upset her. So much so that it became an obsession. It consumed her thoughts and was all she talked about."

"You knew she was turning children into vampires?" Thorne asks.

"No," Elijah answers quickly. "I left her in Africa before she…before she created an immortal child. Her obsession ruined what was left of our relationship, and I left."

"Did you ever tell anyone about her desires?" Micah asks. He's casually leaning against one of the ornately carved posts in the entryway.

"No. Unlike lycan, vampires don't care about the doings of others. Truthfully, I hadn't thought about her until she contacted me a few months ago."

"What did she want?" Micah continues.

Elijah shrugs. "She asked me to recommend where she could find food for her children when she arrived. I assumed her children were other adults she had transformed through the years. I didn't fathom she actually meant…children."

"Did she say where they were going?" Amelia takes the lead.

"No."

"Dammit." I stand, moving into the grand foyer. "This is the biggest bunch of fuckery I've seen in a while, and believe me, I've seen fuckery. "

"Is there anything else you can tell us about Patrice?" Amelia ignores my tirade and continues her questioning.

"She likes to play with her food." He loses his perfect posture, slumping his shoulders slightly. "Young lovers are her favorite. When we were in Africa, she would hunt couples, saying their thoughts of love flavored their blood. She would stalk them for hours, even days at a time. Torturing them. Terrifying them. Often, killing one in front of the other just for the thrill of it."

"So, you're saying, not only is she obsessed with immortal children, she's also a psychopath?" Amelia stands, moving toward the door. "What concerns me is the fact that she hunted couples and murdered them in front of each other isn't what made you decide to leave. It was her obsession over being a mother that sent you over the edge." She moves toward the door. "I think I've heard enough."

"Aye," Thorne answers, wrapping his arm protectively around my shoulders and ushering me toward the door. I have no doubt I could rip Elijah's head from his torso before he noticed my movement, but I appreciate Thorne's attempt either way.

"She's heading south," Elijah says, stopping us at the door.

"How do you know?" Micah asks.

"Let's just call it a hunch," he answers .

The energy in the room changes in an instant as a large red wolf appears seemingly out of nowhere. Amelia steps in front of the Charleston vampire, inches from his face. Saliva drips from her jowls as she snarls a warning.

"Be careful, Elijah," Topher warns. "We're not into playing games when it comes to children."

"I'm not playing any sort of game."

"Where down south?" Topher continues.

"The Gulf Coast of Alabama," Elijah answers. "That's all I know."

Amelia snarls one last warning before backing away from the vampire. Whether her warning was perceived as it was meant, I don't know. Elijah looks more bored than nervous. The giant wolf stays in wolf form as we exit the home and climb back into the SUV.

Instead of joining Thorne and me in the back seat, Topher opens the back of the SUV, and Amelia jumps inside.

"Who wants to go to the beach?" Topher asks, climbing into the front seat. He laughs loudly, making me wonder what silent conversation just passed between him and his wife.

The trip back to the house is uneventful, and when the back of the SUV is opened, a petite redheaded woman, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt hops out. I have no idea when she shifted or dressed.

"That bastard knows more than he's letting on," Amelia says, moving to Topher's side .

"Agreed," he answers, turning toward Micah. "You've worked with Elijah before. Is his information valid enough for us to make the trip?"

Micah shrugs. "I'll talk to my father, but in my experience, he's always been truthful."

"I'll get the jet prepared," Amelia announces, heading toward the front door. Micah steps away, pulling his phone from his pocket.

"Looks like we're heading to Alabama," Thorne says, wrapping his fingers through mine.

"Aye. What about Kragen?" I ask.

"He's busy licking his wounds and building an army. I'm more worried about Eudora and Marnie at this point."

"You can add Patrice to that list, too," I state the obvious, squeezing his hand. "Gretchen said the woman who chained her in the basement smelled like fire. Do you think it was Marnie?"

Micah interrupts before Thorne has a chance to answer. "My father says Elijah has always been truthful to the pack. He has no reason to believe he's not being truthful now." He slides his phone back into his pocket with his words. "He's going to call in a few favors and secure us a place to stay while we're down there."

"The jet will be ready in half an hour." Amelia joins us back on the porch.

I raise my hand, interrupting the flurry of movement. "Does anyone know what we're going to do when we get there?"

"We're going to the beach?" Luna asks, exiting the house and joining our small group. "I'm game! I love the Gulf." My stomach growls at the sight of the blonde lycanthrope, and guilt fills me from the inside.