Hey all!

Got a serious one for you this time. This idea popped into my head on my latest re-read of The Chosen, and wouldn't leave. Since NaNo's on and I'm rattling though it with a mix of Night World fan fiction and my attempt at adapting The Chosen into a movie script, I figured I'd throw this in as well. I reference one of the Snatches of Daylight drabbles in this, the Ash P.O.V. one, and we get a bit of an expansion on it.

This will be a multi-chapter story, but I've got the whole thing done already - I just need to edit the other chapters first, so they'll be out over the next few days I imagine.

I will put a WARNING in this - it does deal with the very real pain of having a child go missing/be presumed dead, despite the supernatural twist. I only hope I've treated the situation with the respect it deserves, as upsetting any of my readers is the last thing I want to do.

That said, I hope you enjoy.


'Lord Thierry will be here in a moment,' Nilsson said, ushering the three of them into what Rashel guessed was a parlour. She still hadn't memorised the layout of the mansion yet, and she'd been here two days. Admittedly, most of that had been spent lying on her stomach in bed, while the witches carefully repaired her back.

Quinn knew his way around the place better than she did, though he hadn't been in the house for a few decades. Apparently they'd moved a few rooms around, extended the house and redecorated.

Surprisingly it was Timmy who was most at home here. They'd kept him mostly out of sight for the past two days, despite his insistence that he knew the place and the people in it. Nilsson certainly recognised him, and one of the various assistants had found some paper and felt tip pens for Timmy to draw with. The pens had made Rashel's lips twitch. No colouring pencils in this house.

Timmy flopped down on the edge of the sofa and leaned over the coffee table, already scribbling away as Rashel and Quinn sat either side of him and Nilsson closed the door behind him. They'd seen Thierry alone briefly when they first arrived, to debrief him on their general situation. He'd had to leave soon after for some meeting or another, but they had arranged for a proper discussion today when he had a few hours free. This time Timmy had insisted on coming along.

It was only a couple of minutes before Thierry arrived. Rashel's only warning was the deliberately noisy way the door opened behind them; the latch catching in the door frame slightly. Possibly Thierry trying to make her comfortable, since he was soundless when he walked. Either way, it made her feel a bit more at ease as she and Quinn turned to greet him. It was still nerve-wracking, being in the same room as the second-oldest vampire in existence. A week ago, every nerve in Rashel's body would have been screaming for her to stake him. Now they were more a discontented grumble. Old habits and all.

Thierry closed the door behind himself before heading for the second sofa facing theirs. 'I apologise for being late. Edgith Harman called-' he stopped, pausing at the end of the coffee table as he caught sight of Timmy, obscured until then by the couch back and Rashel. 'Timmy?'

Timmy looked up from his picture, smiling. 'Hi, Thierry.' Not Lord Thierry, Rashel noticed.

Thierry stared for a moment, processing. His dark eyes flickered up at herself and Quinn, putting the pieces of what they'd already told him together. Rashel hadn't mentioned Timmy's name; they'd both been worried Hunter had been keeping him as an illegal vampire. 'You were with Quinn and Rashel on the enclave?' He asked quietly, more for confirmation as he slowly took his seat. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped.

Timmy nodded, going back to his drawing. 'Hunter brought me. He said he was going to show me what life was like for him growing up. He said it was a holiday.' Timmy frowned, pressure increasing on his orange pen. 'Then that vermin set the house on fire.'

'Timmy,' Rashel said, his name a warning. Timmy glared at her, but bowed his head and sulkily went back to scribbling. She was trying to get him to stop calling humans vermin, but wasn't having much luck so far. Hunter really had indoctrinated him to the vampire way of thinking.

Thierry watched him with that calm, sad way of his. Then he turned to Rashel and Quinn. 'I know we didn't have much time when we last spoke. I didn't realise the little boy you mentioned was Timmy.'

'We assumed Hunter had kept him hidden here as an illegal vampire,' Quinn explained. 'All we knew was he'd been living in Vegas. I didn't think he'd been part of Night World society.'

Thierry shook his head. 'Timmy has been here for years now. He has attended quite a few functions here; even the Solstice Ceremony last year.'

'But how was he legal? Hunter didn't know him before the day he attacked, he couldn't have brought his case to the Council before turning him,' Quinn said.

Thierry bowed his head, grimacing. 'Hunter had come to us a few weeks earlier, seeking permission to change a human into a vampire. He said he wanted to expand his family... wanted a son again,' he said with an apologetic nod to Quinn.

Quinn shut his eyes, leaning back into the couch with a soft groan. 'This was what, eighty five? We'd had a falling out five years earlier. Didn't reconcile until six years ago.' He let out a harsh breath. 'Damn it.'

Rashel reached around Timmy's back to squeeze his hand. 'Hunter's been corrupt for years, we know that now. Do you really think he would have done anything different if you'd been getting on? It's not like he was looking for another heir to replace you,' she said, nodding slightly at Timmy. While he was eerily smart for his biological age, having the experience of a seventeen year old, he still had the mind and mentality of a four year old. Timmy could never lead anyone, nor take on any kind of adult responsibility.

Quinn sighed. 'No, but he might have ran it past me first. I might have talked him out of it.'

'And he might not have. Or he might have ignored you and done it anyway,' Rashel said firmly.

Quinn lifted a hand, silently conceding the point, and dropped it again. He looked up to Thierry again, gesturing for him to go on. 'Sorry for interrupting, my lord.'

Beside him, Timmy snorted with amusement. Quinn shot him an irritated glare.

Thierry nodded. 'We gave him strict conditions, as we always do. Creating new vampires is a heavily regulated process nowadays. Not like when you were turned,' he said with a glance at Quinn. 'The person he chose – he never specified that it would be a child, nor do I think he'd planned it that way – had to have no connections in their normal life. They couldn't be missed.'

That narrowed the prospective recipients dramatically, Rashel knew. Already you were down to transients and high-risk targets; people whose disappearance wouldn't be looked into by the police because they were almost expected to go missing.

'Second, they had to agree to join his family of their own free will – no influencing involved, and no breaking Night World law until they had already been turned.'

Quinn snorted. 'Ironic that he followed that rule back before it existed but not now,' he muttered.

Rashel was shaking her head. 'But that's wrong! Timmy had parents, family.' Beside her, Timmy stopped drawing. 'And Hunter lured him away using telepathy and probably trapped him by influencing him. That's what he tried to do to me.'

Quinn looked sharply at Thierry. Rashel could see his mind working. 'The Council usually requires evidence that their rules were followed, doesn't it? How did Hunter get around that?'

'He didn't,' Thierry said simply. 'He had evidence. Copies of crime scene photos of the boy's mother when she was murdered.'

Rashel rocked back in her seat, staring. 'That can't be right. His mom was fine when we left for my birthday. His dad was in work. So unless Hunter went after them afterwards...'

Quinn reached across to briefly touch her elbow. 'Where were the photos taken?' He asked. 'Where did his mother die?' There was an odd, focused look in his eye – like he'd figured something out and wanted confirmation.

Thierry looked back, picking up on his mood. 'At a carnival. She was found in one of the tents-'

'With a broken neck,' Rashel said quietly, before leaning forward with a soft sigh of relief, raking a hand through her hair. 'That was my mom, not Timmy's. She had dark hair too.'

Quinn shook his head. 'Did the council not look further into it? News articles, interviewing the neighbours? Death certificates?'

Thierry's mouth was a grim line. 'They were supposed to. However, with the influence Hunter has on the Council, he could have convinced enough of the others to turn a blind eye, or not be as strenuous in their fact-checking as they normally would.' He sighed, opening his hands in a request for patience while he spoke. 'Hunter claimed that it was an emergency change; a mercy. He left Timmy in a safe location with Lily while he brought his case to us. He said the boy and his mother had been attacked and that she died. He said the boy was dying and had latched onto him for help and comfort, thus he fit the parameters we set out for him. From what research the Council did into the case, he was telling the truth.'

Rashel was stiff with fury. 'Oh, he was attacked alright. By Hunter. When I walked into that tent, he was feeding on him; had almost killed him. He dropped Timmy to stop me from running, and threw me back into the tent. I thought Timmy was dead; he was pale and limp and staring at the ceiling. Hunter must have fed him blood after I'd escaped to keep him alive.'

'So you did leave me,' Timmy said simply, not looking up from his paper. He was onto his second piece of paper, was scribbling with a brown pen now. Rashel couldn't see what he was drawing bar a glimpse of blue under his arm. She touched his shoulder, ready to draw back quickly should he react badly. Instead he looked up and turned to her, blue eyes steady.

There was nothing she could say but the truth. 'Yes, I did, because I didn't think there was anything I could do. I thought you and my mom were dead, and I knew I would be too if I stayed. I shouldn't have left you in the tubes, that was my fault, but I didn't have a choice in the tent.'

He watched her carefully, like he was weighing up her answer. 'You were strong, so you lived. The weak die.' He gave her a small smile. 'I died. Hunter told me I was strong, but I wasn't when I was ver- human.' He said it with a grimace of distaste. 'I didn't think humans could be strong.'

It was little speeches like that that threw Rashel completely. That reminded her Timmy was as old as she was, and had lived a harsher life than her. That he belonged to a species that lived by 'survival of the fittest' – with the vampires as the fittest, and the humans as prey. Yet had she said that on another day, Timmy might have thrown a tantrum befitting his physical age and shut her out completely again. There was no predicting who she was talking to at any given moment; the child, the adult or the raving animal.

At least the animal had teeth as a warning. The bite marks from the enclave had all but healed over.

Timmy turned back to Thierry while Rashel was still staring. 'Hunter wanted the made vampires to work with him. The bloodfeast was to get them on his side, show they were equals in the Night World. That's why he picked the Equinox. He knew the Council was weak, and wanted to make it strong again.'

Thierry's eyes narrowed. 'He wanted to overthrow the Council?'

Timmy shrugged. 'I don't think so. Just change it. The witches are too soft. The lamia are too lax with their laws. He wanted the Council to pay attention to the problems in the Night World. He wanted to fix it, and he needed people for that.'

Rashel, Quinn and Thierry exchanged glances over Timmy's head. That could be all Hunter was up to, but it sounded like something more. Something he wouldn't share with a child. Maybe Hunter was planning a coup d'etat, and was quietly gathering a force to do so.

Either way, it was a good thing they had stopped the blood feast. Setting several of the vampires on fire was a bonus. They might be a bit leery of working with Hunter Redfern again after that.

'At least we know now,' Thierry said, diplomatically deciding not to comment otherwise. Timmy took that as permission to bow out of the conversation and went back to drawing, concentrating hard on his picture.

Quinn nodded then paused, head tilted in thought. 'You're both on the Council, and you're likely the only vampire more respected than Hunter on it. Is there anything you could do about him?'

Thierry grimaced. 'Without exposing myself as the leader of Circle Daybreak, or where I got my sources from? It's unlikely. If I made a formal accusation of Hunter breaking Night World law, I would have to prove it. This would involve bringing in witnesses, such as Rashel and the other girls... who would then have to be killed to uphold the law,' he said, frowning.

Rashel folded her arms, disgusted. 'This is why you have vampire hunters. The whole system is stacked in favour of the culprit. There's no way for the victims to win unless they don't report it and take it into their own hands.'

Thierry nodded, hands raised in appeasement. 'It's a faulty system, I agree completely. However, it is in line with Night World law. If I suddenly started to campaign against it out of the blue, to make it more fair for human victims – what conclusions would the rest of the Council and Night World draw? They wouldn't stand for it. This is as much a political fight as a legal one. And unfortunately, I more than anyone am strangled by the red tape when I have to use official channels. That's part of the reason why I brought Circle Daybreak back.'

Quinn made a quick, almost impatient gesture. 'I understand all that. I've played my fair share of politics for Hunter, I know how big a pain it can be. But what if you had a Night World witness? What if I reported Hunter, and gave evidence against him?'

Thierry was shaking his head. 'Hunter's crime is a bloodfeast – that automatically indicates that humans are involved and aware of our existence. Even if you could tell the story without incriminating yourself or Rashel, the other girls would legally have to be put to death.' When Quinn's jaw worked as he tried to think of a way around it, Thierry went on softly, regretfully. 'And you would also have to explain your change of heart. You were initially a part of the bloodfeast, and only changed your mind late into the event. How would you explain to the elders that you suddenly had a crisis of conscience, without implicating Rashel?'

Quinn stopped grinding his teeth, looking over at his soulmate. Rashel grimaced in sympathy. She as much as anyone wanted a way to punish Hunter for what he'd done, but she couldn't see a way to do so through official means.

Quinn sighed, admitting defeat. 'I couldn't.' He reluctantly turned back to Thierry. 'So our best bet is to do nothing?'

Thierry gave a small, rare smile. 'Not quite. Hunter and I have always had... conflicting views on the Council. I can be a good politician and heckle him more than usual without anyone getting suspicious. It's only a small thing, but in the Joint Council my opinion can have quite a big impact. I can block most of Hunter's proposals if I want to. Edgith tends to agree with me, so between us we should be able to keep Hunter in check – officially, anyway.'

'And unofficially?' Quinn asked, interest piqued.

Rashel smiled. 'That could be our job.' Usually having two vampires focused on her would have her reaching for her sword and zanshin. Now she pushed down the instinctive bolt of adrenaline and continued steadily, glancing over at Quinn to get his agreement. 'I – we? - were thinking about this when we were on the boat.' Quinn's eyes brightened as he realised where she was going with this.

She fixed Thierry with a steady gaze, trying for both respect and reason. 'Circle Daybreak needs more than peace and healing. You need a fighting arm; someone to tackle the irredeemably bad members of Night World society. We might not be able to take on Hunter directly, but we can be spanners in the works. We can protect potential victims, get people out of danger. We might even be able to recruit people – I know a few vampire hunter groups who might be willing to listen. We can reach out to people who need help but don't know there's people out there that can support them.' The last was for anyone like the girls from the bloodfeast, or Nyala before the Lancers had found her. People who have encountered the Night World and somehow survived, but don't know how to handle it or where to go. People who might not have anywhere else to go, like she had after Aunt Corinne had died.

It would be a hard job, and long, but rewarding. Something to work towards. They could make a difference.

Thierry was starting to smile. 'I think you're right. It's certainly something to consider, at least. I'll have to look at the practicalities of it, but I think it's something we need.'

Rashel nodded. She wasn't sure what 'practicalities' could mean beyond resources and the like – though she doubted money was an issue; this mansion was ridiculously big and extravagant. The job itself shouldn't be too different from her old days. Funny how they seemed so far away now, even though it had only been a matter of days. The main difference would be that she had Quinn with her.

She glanced over at her soulmate at the same time he looked at her and fought a smile – a losing battle. Odd, how many of those she was losing lately.

Then Timmy tugged at her short sleeve, a bit above the highest of the bites he'd given her. 'Rashel, I'm hungry.'

Oh. Oh, shit.

She plastered on a smile to mask the panic rising in her. She was not equipped for dealing with child vampires asking her where their next meal was coming from. 'Oh, okay,' she said, hoping her voice wasn't as high as she thought it was. 'Er-'

Then Quinn was standing and picking Timmy up, lifting him easily. 'Come on, you little con artist. Stop giving Rashel a heart attack. You know where the blood bank is.'

Where the...?

She looked up sharply, actually focusing on Timmy's face instead of his words. He was smiling, but not his usual, angelic smile. This one was a positive smirk.

Rashel threw one of his pens at him.

Giggling, Timmy batted it away and docilely let Quinn carry him out while Rashel sat there and fumed.

Theirry gave a discreet cough – solely to get her attention, since vampires didn't cough unless something was choking them – and she tried to turn her mood down to a simmer.

'I keep forgetting he's seventeen,' she grumbled by way of explanation and apology.

Thierry smiled again, just a hint at the corner of his mouth. 'Quite understandable, all things considered.'

It was only then that it occurred to Rashel that she was in a room, alone, with a vampire that wasn't Quinn or trying to kill her (or both).

Suddenly feeling awkward, she mentally scrambled for something to say. "Thanks for not trying to bite me" wouldn't exactly go over well. She glanced down, eyes landing on Timmy's pictures, and her gaze stayed there, surprised.

They weren't the drawings of a four year old. They were no masterpieces, certainly, but she hadn't known you could get such detail and finesse out of felt-tips. The first, most striking one was instantly recognisable. Hunter's mansion on fire, high up on the cliff. It was the view from the docks – she could tell from the angle and the distance of the house. She'd been carrying Timmy against her, with him facing behind her for most of the way. This was just before he'd begun to cry.

A long-fingered hand came into her view, carefully taking the edge of the picture. Rashel glanced up to find Thierry watching her, as if asking permission. She gave an uncertain nod, and he picked it up and studied it.

In the quiet, she looked back down at Timmy's second picture and froze.

She knew that face.

She reached for it, took it so incredibly gently.

The woman was young, maybe in her late twenties. She had a gentle face and soft brown hair. Some of the proportions were slightly off from what Rashel remembered, and not all seemed down to Timmy's not-yet mastered grasp of anatomy. But one look at those tilted blue eyes confirmed it.

Timmy's mother. Rashel racked her memory for her name. Emma... no, Emily? Wait.

Amelia.

She became aware of eyes on her and looked up to find Thierry watching her quietly. She tilted the picture slightly, drawing attention to it. 'His mom, Amelia. I didn't even realise he remembered her properly.'

Thierry reached out, a silent request. Rashel placed the picture in his hand and watched him study it.

'She's still alive?' He asked.

Rashel gave an uncertain shrug. 'I assume so. After my aunt died, I lost all contact with my old life. The last time I saw her was the day of my birthday, when we picked Timmy up. She was fine then.' Rashel paused, staring at the picture. 'Twelve years. Timmy was never officially reported dead, just missing. Twelve years she's lived with that, not knowing if he was alive or not. What happened to him.' She looked up at Thierry. 'Someone should let her know, give her some closure, but...'

'But that would break Night World law,' Thierry finished for her gently. He bowed his head to look at the picture again, considering. 'However, Circle Daybreak is outside of Night World law. Technically, we are all criminals, and humans are as welcome here as vampires. What the main considerations should be, I believe, is what would be kinder for Amelia. The truth, or a lie that her son's body has been found so she has closer. The latter would be safer for her, but perhaps not what she would want if she herself were given the choice. My main worry however, is what Timmy wants. Does he want to establish contact with his mother again? And if he does...' he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. 'Would his mother be safe with him? I am aware Timmy can have... outbursts. For another vampire they are a simple temper tantrum. For a human...' Thierry gestured at the faint scars still visible on her arms. 'One bite in the wrong place could be fatal.' He handed the picture back to Rashel and stood. Rashel automatically rose to her feet as well, both out of respect and not wanting to have a height disadvantage. Behave, idiot.

Thierry gave her one of his small, sad smiles. 'I think this is something you need to discuss with Timmy first and foremost. If he is open to reuniting with his mother, well... we will do everything we can to help him. If you need something, just ask.' With that he gave her a small nod and headed for the door, leaving Rashel staring after him. Slowly she looked back down at the face in her hands and wondered exactly how she was going to handle this.


'Timmy?'

It was later that afternoon. Rashel and Quinn were in Timmy's room adjoining theirs, and Rashel had Amelia's picture in her hands. Timmy was sprawled out on the floor on his stomach, doing a thousand-piece puzzle.

She'd explained everything to Quinn once he had brought Timmy back from feeding and they'd settled him down in his room for a nap. He still had the sleep patterns of a child – and the sulky insistence on staying awake as long as possible until his head was drooping onto his chest.

Timmy looked up with a smile, his puzzle already a quarter done.

Rashel knelt down next to him, careful not to disturb the pieces. Quinn hovered behind her, staying on his feet. He kept a close eye on the child vampire. They'd come to realise over the past couple of days that a lot of Timmy's outbursts were triggered by mentioning things from when he was human, or things related to Hunter. Quinn had suggested that, while it was far from the only problem Timmy had, the boy had undiagnosed PTSD – and it was only becoming worse now because he'd been removed from the source of the trauma. From Hunter. Now he was in a relatively safe place, he was getting these attacks more often. The only thing that marked his particular case out from the norm was that his episodes often resulted in him lashing out at others, possibly as a result of being turned so young. He didn't have the kind of emotional restraint needed to internalise or rationalise what he was feeling, so like the child he was he lashed out in anger and fear. It wasn't your average type of PTSD, but then Timmy wasn't average.

The witches had only been able to shrug and say it was possible when Quinn had asked one of them earlier. While child vampires weren't rare, the vast majority of them were lamia. As far as anyone knew, Timmy was the only made child vampire this side of the Midwest. The witches had no other cases to compare him to.

Rashel took a breath, praying she wasn't about to trigger a screaming fit. Or an attack. That's why Quinn was staying on his feet. They knew Timmy was unstable, and they knew his feelings towards Rashel were... complicated, to say the least. If he went for her throat, Quinn wanted to be in a position to intercept him.

'I saw your drawings today,' Rashel said quietly, meeting Timmy's eyes as the little boy sat up, more on eye level. 'The one of the fire. And this one.' She gently offered it to him.

Timmy took it, face solemn as he studied it.

'Do you remember who that is?' She prompted him.

He nodded slowly, eyes glazed. 'Mommy.'

Rashel nodded. One step at a time. 'And what do you remember about her?'

'She's... human. She kissed me goodbye.' His blue eyes narrowed. 'She didn't care about me. Hunter said-'

'Ah-ah,' Rashel said, keen to cut him off before they could hear yet another thing 'Hunter said'. It was currently Timmy's favourite phrase. 'Timmy, look at me. Hunter said I didn't care about you too, didn't he?' He nodded. 'And was he right?'

Timmy hesitated, torn. 'I- No? You-' He stopped, looking down at the picture again, breathing rapid. He was getting upset. 'You took me out of the fire. But you took Hunter away. You left me-'

Quinn was tensing up behind her.

'Why was that? You said so before, do you remember?'

He looked up at her, eyes wide and pained, but clear. 'Because you wanted to survive. Because you were strong.'

'And just because I left, it doesn't mean I didn't care about you, does it?'

He slowly shook his head. 'No.'

Rashel gently reached out to touch the edge of the picture. 'And if Hunter was wrong about me, then he could be wrong about her too. Right?'

Timmy was shivering. 'I don't know. She didn't look for me. Your mommy tried to save you. Where was mine? I wanted my mommy,' he whimpered, slowly starting to cry, hugging the picture against his chest, crumpling it.

Rashel reached for him, effortlessly picking him up and pulling him into her lap and hugging him close. She didn't care that this brought his teeth too close to her neck for Quinn to stop him if he tried to bite her. She rocked him gently, the paper crackling softly, fighting the sting in her eyes and the salty lump in her throat. 'I know. I know, Timmy. And if she'd been there, I can promise you she would have come running, just like mine. She loved you so much.' She didn't say that if she had, she would have died as well. He didn't need to hear that – and he probably knew, anyway. Right now, he just needed to know his mother would have been there for him if she could have been.

'And hey, listen.' She didn't have long sleeves, so she wiped his tears with her hand and wrist instead. 'Listen. If you want to, we can try and find her for you. Would you like that?'

Timmy froze, and Rashel fought not to do the same. Had she said the wrong thing? Beside her, Quinn dropped to one knee, a hand on her shoulder. It was genuinely supportive, but it also gave him the chance to jam his hand between Timmy's teeth and her neck if need be.

Timmy was looking up – not at her throat, but her face, his eyes wide and pleading and hopeful. 'We could?'

Rashel nodded with a tremulous smile. 'Yeah. If you want to.'

'But...' Timmy lifted one small hand up to his mouth – to his teeth. 'What if she doesn't want me anymore?'

Rashel opened her mouth, closed it again to reconsider.

They'd lived in southern Louisiana, though neither of them really had the accent anymore. While she didn't remember Timmy's family being overly religious, going to Church on Sundays was just something you did. She remembered the little green dress she used to wear for it. She'd fallen out of the habit in the years since, and had found that it had only been that – a habit. Something she and Mommy did together. She didn't know if she'd lost her faith when her mother died. She didn't know if she'd had faith to lose. Church just had stories that were hard to hear with the echo, and was in a nice building, and they got a piece of strange bread at the end of it and shook people's hands. Maybe she'd just been taken away from it too young. Maybe she never would have been that much of a believer anyway.

What was even harder to say was how Amelia would react to her son being a vampire. Rashel looked at Quinn, found his expression bleak. He knew exactly what religion could drive someone to when confronted with the Night World.

While Rashel just couldn't see Amelia chasing her boy with a stake, she honestly didn't know if she would reject him as a monster or not.

The truth then. She would just have to deal with the fallout.

She brushed Timmy's hair back, meeting his eyes squarely. 'I don't know, Timmy. I really don't. But no matter what you choose, or what happens, I'll be here for you. OK?' Even if that meant being something like a mother at seventeen. She owed him that.

He squared his little jaw, chin sticking out, and nodded. Then he did something he hadn't done in twelve years.

He hugged her.

As Rashel wrapped her arms around him, he mumbled into her T-shirt. 'I want to try.'

She nodded, resting her chin on top of his head. 'Alright. We'll talk with Thierry.'

Quinn squeezed her shoulder, and she glanced over at him. He gave her a small, supportive smile.

I'm proud of you. It still gave her a little jolt of surprise when he used telepathy, but she was starting to get used to it. She smiled at him and thought back, not sure if she was doing it right or not.

I just hope she accepts him.