I smiled. “But these kids are okay?”
“These are the ones that showed the ability to be reasoned with.”
Behind Max, another boy squatted down and pointed to the sail, then picked up some glue and helped him put it in place. “Who’s that other boy?”
“That’s Joshua.”
“How old is he? He looks—”
“He’s twelve.”
“Twelve? Why would they lock away a twelve-year-old?”
“He wanted to stay with his brother.” Mike nodded toward them.
“Max is his brother?”
“Yep.” He ran a hand over his head. “We hold the most hope for those two.”
Joshua looked up at Mike with a timid smile and a half-wave.
Mike waved back: his eyes lighting up. “We’re pals.” He shrugged.
I looked around the room, seeing children on beds, talking to each other, watching them play cards or knuckles on round rugs by the window, and thought back to the first day I met them. “Mike?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened to the little boy the caretaker beat?”
Mike moistened his lips, smiling, and nodded to a child coming in from the bathroom, holding the hand of woman with soft brown hair and a kind smile.
“That’s him?”
“Yep.”
The little boy glanced over at us, curiosity showing in his frown. I gave a little wave, but he looked away, sitting down with his carer on an armchair by the bookcase.
“Is he okay?” I asked Mike.
“Uh, well, physically, yes, but we haven't been able to get him to speak yet—or sleep.”
My eyes closed around the image of him cowering under that metal weapon. “Maybe we should have Jase come down and erase his memory.’”
Mike’s head moved quickly, his eyes going a little wider. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea, Ar.”
I nodded. “Shall I ask him?”
“Yeah. Sure, go ahead.” He took my hand. “Come on. Let’s leave them to it.”
“So,” I asked as we headed for the door again, “do you think they’ll be okay? One day?”
“You know, Ara?” He stopped and placed both hands on my arms. “I think, for once, you might’ve been right. I'm sure they’ll be fine—one day.”
Self-satisfaction made me smile; I wanted to bathe in the glory of being right, but didn't want to ruin the moment. “Even if there’s no such thing as this prophecy child?”
“Yeah.” He looked back at Joshua and Max. “I mean, it’ll be a long eternity for them—never growing up, but, they do have the option of death—if they want it.”
I didn't like that idea—or the idea that they’d never grow up, never marry, never get their first car or have their first beer. But this was the best we could do for now, until I figured out all these different agendas and uncovered the truth of the past that we so solidly based our entire future on. “So, um, when will you bring the others?”
“When this group are successfully adopted out.”
“Have you lined up any Lilithian families yet?”
“I'm pleased to say, yes, we have.” Mike opened the door for me, closing it behind us. “And there are even a few vampire families.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, nice couples too. Very human.”
“So, they're not still mental from the blood-lust?”
“No, the couples who’re adopting are one’s who’ve been in love with a human before—most of them still with that partner. So, they’re only as messed-up as you or David.”
“That's great, Mike. This is the kind of thing I've been needing to hear.” I stopped walking and stood on my toes, my lips by Mike’s cheek. “Thank you.”
“No worries.” He grinned as I kissed him. “Now, about this Jason thing.”
“Oh, come on, Mike. Don’t give me hard time.”
“No, Ara,” he said softly. “I was just going to say I give it my blessing. I don't like it, but I understand it. Okay? Just don't let me down—just don't—” he paused, “—don't do anything with him.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Good. And just because I'm not going to give you a hard time, doesn’t mean I'm gonna go easy on him.”
“No, that would be too much to ask for, wouldn’t it?” I remarked sourly.
“Ara?” He leaned on the wall. “You know how much I hate that guy. Okay? So just let me be the protector, and you just be a good girl and live with it.”
“No. You can treat Jason civilly, or I go back to being a pain in the arse.”
“All right,” he huffed. “I’ll try to be civil. I’ll even spar with him at training today, how’s that sound?”
“You know he can put you out, Mike, if you cross him? You better not try to hurt him.”
“Hu!” He breathed. “You're worried about me hurting him? Where’s the loyalty?”
“You don't need it. He does.”
“Just because no one likes him.”
“I like him.”
“You worry me.” He pointed at me and walked away.
After sparring with Ryder, and losing in front of the entire Guard, I sculled some water down with a couple of aspirin and sat back to watch Mike spar with Eric. They were a good match; Eric had years of experience in kickboxing, but Mike had brute strength and courage. They reminded me of lions in the wild, fighting over a kill, except, both of them were laughing and making comical observations about each other’s mums.
I smiled up at Jason as he sat beside me on the bench by the mirrors, with Petey in tow.
“Hey, Ara.”
“Hey, Jase. Petey.” I scratched the dog’s head. “Haven’t seen him for a while.”
“He comes and goes.” Jason shrugged. “Sometimes we don't see him for a couple of decades.”
“Where does he go?”
“No one knows, and it’s not like we can ask him, either.”
“You can.”
“Shh.” He looked around at a few knights standing nearby. “I rather people don’t know that.”
“Oh. Okay. Why?”
“Because they might try to use him as a spy.”
“How?”
“Kidnap you—threaten to torture you if I don't tell them everything the dog, who everyone talks openly around, knows.”