A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the delay, I'm working on two stories at once and all my work for my final year of school. So, a warning before I post this chapter: as always, religious themes that may be offensive to readers but this chapter also has a flashback that features graphic violence and non-consensual slavery the things that happen to Victoria in the flashback are things she does not want to happen. The flashback is in italics if you want to skip it, you won't miss much.

Two years later

"Mama, where we going?" Líle asked me and I smiled and said "We're going for a run. Does Líle like to run?"

My daughter clapped her hands "Run! Run!" she squealed and I picked her up and spun her around and she squealed again.

"Líle love mama!" she said and she put her arms around my neck and gave me a cuddle and I cuddled my precious two year old back.

Thank you for Líle, God. Thank you with all my heart.

In the two years since I'd found my flower - because Líle was my flower - I'd said that prayer more times than I could count. I'd also said many prayers to St. Gerard since finding Líle. Although, strictly speaking, I wasn't acctually Líle's mother as I hadn't conceived, carried and given birth to her, I still believed that St. Gerard had had something to do with me finding Líle. I'd prayed to St. Gerard frequently in my human life and in my vampire life. I'd believed that, if any one other than the Lord could help me have a child when I was a cold, unchanging stone, it would be the patron saint of motherhood.

God might have forgiven my sinfulness all those centuries ago and allowed me the chance to find the child by guiding me to the house where Líle was, but I would not have found her if not for her cry. I believed it to be a miracle orchestrated by St. Gerard on the Lord's behalf and he deserved as much thanks for giving me my baby as God himself did.

"Mama, where we running to?" Líle asked me and I was jerked out of my reverie and I smiled at my daughter "We're going to run all the way to Minnesota, and then all the way back to Massachusetts! Won't that be fun baby?"

"Run fast! Run fast!" Líle squealed, clapping her hands with glee and I kissed her head of chestnut curls and her brown eyes glittered happily as I did so.

"Kiss for mama!" she said and reached up and put her lips to my cold cheek. Her little mouth was like the glowing coal from a fire to my stone face and I smiled. She would never know just how much joy she brought me, my little flower.

But there was a reason for my seemingly pointless run to Minnesota and back to Massachusetts. I'd seen my master... No! He wasn't my master anymore! I'd seen my former master lurking around some of my hunting spots and I'd had to miss church because he and a friend of his with dark skin and those vulgar things humans called 'dreadlocks' had been waiting outside for me to go in. My former master obviously hadn't forgotten just how much I prayed and how much I valued my relationship with the Lord.

But how did he know that I was here? And, much more pressing and frightening, did he know about Líle? I hoped not. If he already knew then I would do anything and everything to keep her safe from him. He would not hurt my daughter the way he had hurt me. The sixth commandment might be Thou Shalt Not Kill, but if my former master came anywhere near my baby then I would kill him without any remorse! I knew it was sinful to think this way about another being, but, when I sent a prayer to God, I didn't ask for forgiveness, but for understanding. Surely God would not punish me so harshly for wanting to protect the precious gift he had granted me? Surely he did not punish parents who killed to protect their children?

If my former master didn't know about Líle it was going to stay that way. I had no doubt that he would use her to get to me if he wanted to. And I had no doubt that he wanted me back. In his mind, and according to his brand still on my body, I belonged to him. His belonging with no more right to kindness or compassion or gentleness than a chest of drawers or a bed. A bed.

I hugged Líle to me a little tighter and she looked at my face "Mama sad?"

"It's OK, leanbán" I crooned, using the Gaelic word for baby "Even mama gets said sometimes"

"Don't be sad" she looked quite distressed at the idea that I could be upset and I kissed her again and she said "Líle make mama happy, like mama make Líle happy"

"Oh, thank you" I said to her and then I put her in a special sling I'd brought once in a human town. The sling, or carrier, or whatever it was called, was always on my back for if I needed to get away quickly with my baby.

"Run?" she said and I laughed "Run!" and she squealed as I took off at my fastest sprint. Running non-stop at this speed it would take me just under a day to get to Minnesota and the same again to get back to Massachusetts. But I didn't want to run directly there. I wanted to lay false trails and confuse the man who was hunting me. I would have liked to call him other things, but God had taught me in the hardest way possible that thinking malicious thoughts about others was a sure way to have something you craved taken away from you. I would never go through a punishment like that again because there was only one thing I had that I would regret losing.

I could feel my baby's hands in my hair as I ran and her warm little cheek pressed against my back. I smiled to myself. She was so precious to me, so special. I loved her as much as I loved the child I'd been forced to miscarry all those centuries ago. I shuddered at the memory of that dark time, dim as it was, that floated to the surface of my mind as I ran.

"No! My lord, please! I beg you!"

James Witherdale's face was calm as he advanced towards me with a heavy wooden cane. From my position kneeling on the floor I curled myself over my stomach, which becoming round with the child I so desperately craved.

"That's enough, girl" he said to me, pretending to be bored "If you run away from me, then you must be prepared to deal with the consequences"

"I'm with child! My lord...!"

"Pregnant slaves are expensive, Victoria" I flinched at the awful name he'd given me. Victoria was not my name.

"I'm not prepared to pay for your upkeep and the upkeep of a child until it is old enough for me to sell off. I'm also not prepared to take your insolence. You belong to me, girl. I brought you in the same fashion as I brought the clothes on my back. You are my possession and you will serve me accordingly"

I sobbed, I couldn't help myself. But nothing would happen, no one would come and help me.

"Oh Dia! Oh Íosa! Cabhraigh liom!"

James laughed "Call on Jesus all you want, Victoria! He won't save you now!"

The first blow landed across my back and I cried out in pain.

"Mama?"

I was jerked out of the past and back into the present by the voice of my flower and, although I kept running I said "Yes, Líle?" My voice was a little hoarse and I realised that my breath was hitching. I'd been crying.

"Don't cry, mama" she said, one of her little hands patting my between the shoulders blades "Líle love you, even if no one else love you"

"Thank you" I told my little girl, wanting to reach around and cuddle her to me, but deciding that I should keep running instead "That means a lot to mama"

"Líle love mama"

"Mama love Líle more"

A/N: Don't say I didn't warn you. The Irish phrase that Victoria used in her flashback translates roughly as "Oh God! Oh Jesus! Please help me!" and you'll find out how James knew that she was calling on them in later chapters. If you liked this chapter hit the green button underneath this and tell me why. If you didn't like this chapter hit the green button underneath and tell me what to improve on.

This chapter was for Indigo1100 who left me my first review for this story and my one shot Witnessed. Check out her fic Fire which is a Victoria/James spank-fic. Go and check it out. I guarantee you've read nothing like it before!