Isa quieted in my arms, her gaze watchful with her eyes darting back and forth between the two of us. She was extremely intelligent for a child, and that wasn’t just my hopeful wish as her mother. She watched everything with a keen eye, cautious like me, but extremely intuitive when the situation called for it. I was pretty sure that was caused by her strong Vampire genes; it was almost as if she was already scenting emotions, which she couldn’t yet do, though it sometimes seemed like it. And yes, I was a proud mommy.
Antonio sat up, carefully placing his book on the coffee table. “Lil, I don’t understand what you’re accusing me of.”
I huffed, glancing down at Isa. Smiling gently, I kissed her forehead to loosen her from her quietness, bouncing her a little, then I asked in a soothing voice, pointing at Antonio, “Isa, who is that?” I bounced her again, laughing lightly, almost completely faking it, but not wholly because she grinned at me. “Can you tell me who he is?”
She giggled and opened her arms wide in Antonio’s direction. “Pa.”
My wolf growled, my attention slamming to Antonio.
He tried to hide it, I could tell he really did, but a huge, flashing grin still graced his handsome features, and he was instantly on his feet, lifting her from my arms. Hell, he even twirled her while she giggled and squealed in excitement.
My wolf huffed, irritated…but, at the same time, I loved seeing her so happy.
Still, I grumbled, “She was so close to saying mama.”
Antonio chuckled, but he quickly coughed to cover it and held Isa close. “I’m sure she’ll say it next.”
I pointed at myself. “I was supposed to be first.” My eyes went to Isa, and I nodded, whispering, “Can you say mama?”
She giggled, tucking her head under Antonio’s chin. “Pa.”
I groaned, throwing my hands up in the air because there was absolutely no fighting that face. “Fine.” I tilted my head back and forth in time to the sounds. “Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa.” She giggled, so I did it again. I sighed in motherly resignation, taking her back from Antonio, but complained to him, “It doesn’t mean she loves you more. It’s just easier to say.”
His lips twitched. “I know.”
I bared my teeth, but I stalled and blinked when an official, spelled letter with my name on it appeared directly in front of my face. It continued to hover there, not moving. I growled softly but handed Isa back to Antonio, then I plucked the letter from the air. I cracked the seal and pulled the sheet of thick paper out of the envelope.
Unfolding it, I read its contents.
Reread it. “What the f**k?”
“What does it say?” Antonio asked, maneuvering to read over my shoulder.
I turned toward the light, hearing Antonio exhale heavily when he didn’t get a chance to snoop. Peering at it closer, I made sure I was reading it correctly. I shook my head, seriously confused because we were doing so well here in Australia. In the three months since I had gone back onto the battlefield, we had almost reached the northern area where the Royal Australian Army bases were. Not that it was because of just me, but still, only three months.
I waved the letter. “It’s from Elder Harcourt. He’s relocating us to the US. Says he’s moving some of the Elders, Kings, and Queens around, trying different Mysticals in power together, attempting to find a better fit. He hopes it will benefit our efforts in the war.”
Antonio grabbed the letter from my hands, scanning the contents. It looked like he read it twice, like I had, then he shrugged a shoulder. “There’s nothing else to do except for what he says. He’s the senior Elder and runs the show.” He actually smiled. “I can’t wait to get back to the States.”
My jaw clenched, the familiar iciness overtaking my limbs. “But we’re almost to the north. Our goal here is almost accomplished. I don’t want to leave this behind.”
Again, his shoulder shrugged. “We’re needed elsewhere.” He handed Isa back to me. “And we don’t have a choice.” He rustled the letter in his hand. “This is war, Lil. We don’t always get to pick what we’re doing. We just go wherever we’re needed.”
Breathing heavily through my nose, I eventually nodded. “These Coms were beginning to bore me, as of late. They’ve been breaking too easily in interrogations.” I smiled, and it was feral as I thought of the new Com blood that could be spilt in North America. Even with Isa, my mind was still in chaos. Only her joyful attention and the fighting in battle kept me from going completely insane, my heart only melting in unconditional love when around her and my veins only melting in anger from their frozen state when slicing Coms’ heads off with my short swords — my Cizano. Any other time, I was still that block of ice. I nodded once curtly, turning to the door. “A distraction, a new challenge, sounds interesting.”
Antonio called after me, “Be packed by morning. The orders are for us to leave within twelve hours of receipt.”
I ignored him because I had read the letter, too, and already knew this. I wouldn’t have to pack but two duffles: one for me and one for Isa. The rest had been spelled to set up at whatever camp we went to. Which meant Isa, Bonnie — my Vizoac — and I had the evening to ourselves, which was just what I preferred.
Swaying with the motion of the cargo ship, which looked identical to the one we had arrived in Australia on, I wondered if it was the same one, and if it was specifically used for carrying Mysticals from country to country. We were on our way to the States, and I reclined the seat in my Hummer, sitting on the driver’s side while Bonnie sat on the passenger side and Isa slept in the back on her child seat. And, like normal when no one was near, I closed my eyes and tried to remember. Antonio, Felix, Aros, and Bindi were watching a movie on the small television that sat on the rickety old wooden table at the end of the cargo hold, so I wouldn’t be disturbed.
Well, I would be disturbed, but only in my mind.
Thoughts ricocheted, making my head ache, but I tried focusing on a simple memory rather than all of them at once, trying to push past that black void of nothingness. But only chilling anger met my attempts, and I growled softly, rubbing a hand over my face. Then I tried again, focusing on another blacked out section. With only the same results.
Opening my eyes, I stared at the ceiling. Being mind raped, having someone sift through your most intimate experiences, see them, and pluck your life from your mind, leaving gaping holes, could only create a monster out of what was left. I wasn’t afraid — never afraid — to admit freely that I had become a terror at times. And I was content with the monster, which someone else had made by stealing from me, traumatizing my very soul. I was a jaded individual whom my younger self wouldn’t recognize. I had grown up and now saw life as the cruel reality that it was.