Diapers & Dead Apples

1

Domestic.

Not the word that one would automatically pair vampire.

Ruthless, yes.

Powerful, most.

There are many fierce adjectives that a person could use when describing the blood drinkers among us.

None of them applied to this vision standing in my kitchen.

The six foot plus handsome vampire, heating a bottle in a sauce pan with his hair pulled back into a low ponytail was the most gorgeous thing I had seen.

I sat in the mahogany rocking chair holding the bundle in my arms. She was fussing, impatient for her next meal. I rocked her back and forth, patting her bottom lightly, as the cold blooded killer dried off the wet bottle, grabbed a spit rag, and came to me.

"Thanks," I told Eric, testing the bottle's temperature on my wrist. It was just right. Eric seemed to have a knack for this sort of thing.

"Not a problem, lover," He said, smiling. "I have to call Pam at the club real quick. You ok here?"

"We're fine," I told him, giving the eager baby her late night drink. Eric kissed my forehead as he walked toward the front porch to check in on things at Fangtasia.

Things had certainly changed in the last two weeks since Abirah came into my life.

Amelia and Tray, Abirah's parents, were dead. I had honored Amelia's wishes and called her father. It broke my heart to lie to him. Amelia had wanted me to tell him nothing about the baby. I had concocted a story about Tray and her being unable to escape the fire at de Castro's compound in Las Vegas. Cope, as I had always called him, had been devastated.

Felipe de Castro. Now there was one son of a bitch who couldn't die enough as far as I was concerned.

Cope had asked if there was anything he could do to help me out. Amelia and I had been splitting the costs at my house while she'd been living here. I knew, with a baby, that money was going to be very tight now. My salary from Merlotte's would need to stretch like a rubber band to cover everything.

Even with that, I had told Cope that everything would be fine.

He decided to hold a small memorial service for Amelia and Tray. It had been lovely. There were many big wig associates of Cope's there, as well as most of the Shreveport Were community. Sam had driven me out and stayed for the ceremony. Eric and Pam could not attend as the service was held in the daylight hours. Arlene had offered to babysit Abirah. She had been tickled over the idea of a newborn in her home again.

There had been a small ensemble to play music. The three played cello, flute and harp. I did not know any of the pieces they played, but they had sounded wonderful and I hoped the sounds wafted to the heavens for Amelia and Tray to hear.

After the memories were shared and the visitors began to disperse, Cope had sought me out, handing me an envelope. Inside had been a check for ten thousand dollars. I had tried to refuse his money, but he had insisted on it, saying that he knew Amelia would have wanted me to have it.

I opened an account in Abirah's name and deposited the check there.

As I lifted the baby girl to my shoulder to pat her back, Eric strolled back inside.

"Everything ok?" I asked him.

"For the most part," he replied. "A few stupid fang bangers making some trouble and one underage kid trying to win a bet by getting inside. Pam says hello."

"She does?" I asked skeptically.

"Actually, "Eric confessed, "she wanted to know when you would be bringing the baby in to the club."

I laughed as the little girl made a noise that let me know the burping was working.

"I will need to go in tomorrow," Eric said grimly. "The monthly reports are coming due and I need to assure that the finances are in order. It should only be a few hours."

I nodded, moving the baby back to my arms to continue her feeding.

"I was thinking," Eric said. "Why don't we go stay at my home for awhile?"

"Eric," I said,"this is my home. I can't walk away from it. It's been in my family for well over a hundred years."

"I know," he complained. "The draft hints at even longer. "

I grimaced at him.

"Lover," he went on. "I am not saying that you need to sell this house. Just come and stay at mine for a few weeks. It's closer to the club. Anything you need is only a phone call away. There are so many nice baby boutiques…"

"Ah-ha!" I mused. "You just want to spend your money on me!"

"No," Eric said, looking at me with those ice blue eyes. Kneeling in front of me and moving the blanket from Abirah's face. "I just want to spend money on my daughter."

Eric's daughter.

Abirah Marie Northman.

"My daughter," I said defiantly, "has everything she needs right here."

"Woman, why must you be so difficult?"

"Because," I answered playfully, "You wouldn't love me any other way."

Eric smiled back at me. He lifted Abirah from my arms, deciding his fight may be more easily won by addressing her.

"My lovely," he spoke to the nursing baby. "Your mother is the most stubborn woman on this planet."

"She's ignoring you."

Eric did not pay me any mind and continued his rant to the little girl in his arms.

"Did you know that on more than one occasion, your mother risked her life to save mine?"

"She doesn't care…"

"And," he went on, "she refuses to let me treat her like the Queen she is? Little Princess, what are we to do with her?"

"I think you've bored her to sleep," I mocked at Eric.

Still ignoring me, Eric spoke once more to her.

"What do you think Little Princess? Would you like to come see Aunty Pam…"

"Aunty Pam?"

"And stay at my home where we can go shopping and out to dinner. Maybe a little dancing?"

"Eric," I said to him, "Now you're just being ridiculous!"

"Abirah agrees with me," he replied triumphantly. "See?" Eric was holding her little fist up, shaping it into a "thumbs up" gesture.

"Well then," I laughed, "I guess I'm out numbered!"