Disclaimer: Don't own Trollhunters or any of its characters.

Hey! Back with a new chapter and holy cheese, thank you for so many reviews! Wow. I'm so happy people are enjoying the story. Thank you for all the follows, favorites, and reviews. You guys are amazing. I truly appreciate the feedback. Check out my tumblr or instagram tunafishprincess! I post a lot of fanart for the fic and otherwise on there. :D


Claire and Present Danger (IV)

Fear.

It wasn't so much the feeling as the randomness. As a doctor she knew the physiological changes quite well: accelerated breathing and heart rate; increased muscle tension such as those attached to hair follicles to create the sensation of goose bumps; perspiration; alertness —the list was extensive. But she was getting ahead of herself.

One couldn't always predict how fear manifested. Barbara, for example, had a fear of snakes.

Nevertheless, there were very few things that terrified her. Working in the medical field lent itself to that. However, like most humans, she too felt that instinctual sensation borne from the days man had only fire and caves to save them from the boogeymen of their nightmares, monsters created by creative minds to torture themselves with the what-ifs of life.

Sadly, this was no nightmare.

It was the iridescent shine of this boogeyman's appearance that alerted her first. A polished pink serpentine intermixed with lighter and darker shades. No human or animal had skin like that.

Sweat trickled down her back. The creature in front of her hunched forward.

Whereas J-Atlas was more or less humanoid, the monster (changeling, her terrified mind supplied) was too long, lithe in areas that should be muscle and strange proportions that didn't seem possible on any living creature. She was more than a head taller than Barbara and could probably throw her around with little effort.

She had known—evidence of her son and the creatures she'd seen prior were evidence enough—monsters existed, but to actually see one in front her was immeasurable.

Heaven help her, Barbara feared.

The creature's slit eyes dilated, nostrils expanding like a predator near its prey, which wasn't too far from the truth in this situation.

A cruel smile stretched over her (she was a she, right?) lipless mouth. She hissed, "Or what?"

Or what indeed. The amulet attached to her son's chest blinked, reminding her of the reason she came. Her back straightened.

Atlas needed her. The call had been urgent; she'd left work almost immediately. Excuses could be made later. When he didn't show up at the rendez-vous point, Barbara knew something had gone wrong and decided to investigate. A good thing too, she thought.

The magic sparked, her son's armor and appearance transforming once more. She bit down on her bottom lip; the damage was worse than she thought.

She tensed as the changeling's claws inched closer to Atlas's neck. In response, Barbara's thumb switched off the safety.

The young girl behind her shuffled closer, staring at her son in concern, but Barbara put out a hand. Not yet. She leveled her shotgun. No shaking, no shaking, she repeated inwardly. "Stop that. I've got a mean aim."

"Mom," her son croaked. His left eye was swollen shut, his right not much better. "Run, Nomura's dangerous."

"Not until she lets you go," Barbara demanded.

She only hoped changelings were vulnerable to bullets. Wait, did bullets work against their kind? Would her missile launcher work? Damn. Maybe she should have brought that instead.

"Do what he says, fleshbag. I don't take kindly to threats," the monster stated, reaching out once again towards her baby.

A mixture of adrenaline, fury, and panic leaked through. She pulled.

The sound reverberated through the forest, Claire's scream following it. A rising stream of smoke from the tree above Nomura's head was Barbara's first and final warning. A pretty good one too, she thought proudly. Nomura jumped nearly a meter away, no longer viewing her as prey. She was a threat.

Good. Barbara couldn't help but smile. While being understated was better in this scenario, it felt pretty damn nice to be taken seriously by this creature.

"That was a warning shot," she said in a measured tone.

Nomura turned its head back to her son. "That's your mom?"

Atlas coughed, "Yeah."

Her lips twitched. "Isn't she dating Strickler?"

An awkward silence passed before he answered in a high pitched manner, "It's complicated."

Barbara watched their exchange in confusion. Weren't they fighting? Hadn't this Nomura tried to kill her baby a moment ago?

Her trigger finger loosened. Maybe this was how changelings interacted. Most of her knowledge about changelings was split between Atlas and her new basement tenant's information. According to Atlas, changelings were misunderstood, led to believe their only route to acceptance and salvation was fulfilling their creator's wish. According to Draal, they were heartless cunning monsters whose goal was to release some evil warlord from a magical bridge. Barbara wanted to believe her son, truly, but the way he startled at her movements and froze during affection worried her deeply.

Did physical violence mean something else in changeling culture? No, going by her son's wounds and Nomura's earlier words, this was more than just a mere friendly scuffle.

Her brows furrowed. It was hard to reconcile the idea of her son being raised by such beings with what she saw before her.

Nevertheless, this person knew her son. Knew him in a way Barbara hadn't—couldn't really. What was this changeling's relationship to him? Had she cared for him? Her shoulders relaxed. Perhaps…perhaps she could be negotiated with in some manner.

It was an unfortunate mistake. Before she could raise her gun once more the changeling shifted towards her, her speed liquid in a way no human could match. Barbara seized up, ready to fight, only to miscalculate who the woman was going for.

"Looks like we'll have to settle our fight later," Nomura said in a sing-song tone, adjusting her grip. "But for now—"

Claire gasped, her next sounds muffled by Nomura's hand. The green glow of the changelings eyes made her smirk all the more sinister.

"Claire!" Atlas yelled.

Nomura's voice took on a barbed edge. "I'll be taking this one. You know where to find us, little Gynt."

Leaves scattered as Nomura leaped into the air, moving at a pace Barbara could never hope to match.

She bit her inner cheek. Damn it. If only she were stronger. She should have taken the shot.

"No! Stop, Nomura!" Atlas said in a desperate tone, "Please. Please, don't do this. Claire!"

Barbara came to his side. "Sweetheart, I—"

"This can't be happening. Claire's just a kid. Fuck, fuck, fuck," he groaned, trying to get up. His legs collapsed up from underneath him. His claws dug into the soil. "I have to save her. I just have to."

It took effort for her to release the shotgun, but she does. Her hands ache from holding it. Though a new problem took place of the old, she can't help the rush of relief building within her. He was alive. Her baby was alive. They both were.

Her cheeks flushed. Here she was thankful her own son was safe when someone else had taken his place. Shameful.

Claire was gone. Barbara had failed to keep both children safe. Who knew what the changelings would do with her.

Her relief dissipated as the sounds of others made themselves known. They weren't alone. A man's muffled calling reminded her of how close they were to the residential area. Police sirens rang from far away. When the flashlights went on she pressed herself over her son's body, heart beating like a rabbit's, caught in a trap with only minutes to escape.

What would they do if they found them there? Her throat dried. Atlas wasn't in his human form. If someone saw—

They wouldn't. Barbara settled her gaze back on her son, analyzing his injuries.

Contusions covered the visible areas of his body. He cradled one of his arms, body crouched defensively. Even in the darkness she could see the blood slid down the side of his head.

Her breath caught. A concussion, even a mild one, could be potentially dangerous. Going by the amount, he would need stitches too.

Damn it. She should have brought her sutures. Too late for that now.

Or was it? Barbara subconsciously patted her pocket. She did have a key to the clinic. It was closer there than to her house right now. Barbara eyed the wound once more, mind settled.

"People are coming," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Can you transform? I don't think I can carry you in this form."

"The amulet…I don't have enough energy." He paused, eyes widening. "Oh crap."

"What now?"

Atlas tried to move about, hands moving through the grass frantically. "She threw away my gaggletack. It's somewhere, I just have to find it."

The voices grew louder. One in particular called out for Claire. Barbara's heart sank. She knew that voice.

But she couldn't explain. They had to move.

"We don't have time. We need to get you to my clinic." She stated, mind slowly shifting to doctor mode. "You're injured."

"But I can't transform without it," he said, eyes pleading.

Sweat rolled down her temple.

The lights drew nearer.

"Yes, you can. You said you could once, right?"

"I'm not sure. It's been so long." He grabbed his head. His ears lowered, flattening against his head. "I'm not sure how I did it. NotEnrique mentioned something, but it didn't make any sense."

Barbara brushed back his bangs. Atlas flinched. She tried not to take it personally. "Forget about what he said. Focus: what did you do the first time? What triggered it?"

Atlas leaned forward. "I…it was a memory. A scent. It was…"

"Yes?" She egged on.

He blinked, looking back at her. "It was you."

She tried to smile. "Well, I'm here. What can I do?"

"I don't know." He fisted his hair, body pulling in on itself. "Maybe Bular was right. Maybe I am just a useless half-breed. Here I'm supposed to be the Trollhunter but I've been winging this entire thing, and now, everything is going to shit and I can't do anything and Claire's been kidnapped and—"

"Breathe. It's going to be okay," Barbara said.

"But it's not." His voice broke. He laughed mirthlessly. "It's really not."

Her gaze flickered over the small hedge hiding them. She could see her headlights through the shrubbery. It wasn't far. They needed to move soon though. "My car is parked nearby, but you can't walk like this and I can't carry you. You need to change."

"How?"

Good question. She wished she had the answer. For one small moment, she imagined one of those self-help parenting books in her mind: how to teach your half-changeling son how to transform without a gaggletack. Geez, what a mouthful. It was the one and only time she wished her ex was here.

Thankfully, the moment passed soon enough.

"Take a deep breath," she instructed. Being stressed probably didn't help. "Now exhale. Good. Do it again. It's alright. We can solve this. You have me now. I'm here for you."

Her hand lightly rubbed circles into his back. His shoulders lost their tightness.

"I…I'll try," he said, closing his eyes (well, eye. She would need to check that soon to see if the damage in the other was more than superficial).

Nothing changed in the first minute. Nevertheless, his erratic breathing had lessened, body loosening with every second passed. Barbara continued rubbing his back. She couldn't help but hum along with it.

Barbara's mind couldn't' help but fill with concern over his earlier words. What kind of life had he lived that he had such low self-worth? It burned, knowing he viewed himself so poorly. If she ever had the chance, she and Walt were going to have words about this.

Before long, her hand warmed, heating up to a near scalding temperature. Electricity thrummed underneath. Light began to spark, alerting her of what was too come. Barbara barely had time to cover her eyes from the ensuing light that consumed his body.

She blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness. Her son gave her a half-hearted smile and thumbs up, human once more.

Swinging the gun over her shoulder, she reached down, helping him onto his feet once more. Shifting his arm around her shoulder, they wobbled through the woods. The voices grew fainter with each step they made. They couldn't relax just yet though.

"I did it," he said, head resting on her shoulder.

Barbara pulled him closer, taking on more of his weight. "Good job."

"I feel so exhausted." His head bobbed.

"Don't fall asleep," she warned, shaking him slightly. "You have a head injury."

She was sweating up a storm by the time they made it to the car. As Barbara opened up the passenger's door, a sharp pang startled her. Her eyes landed on Atlas's closed fist and troubled features.

"I failed to protect her," he told her. "It's all on me. I have to go rescue her. I promised I would get her to safety and now she's going to the most dangerous place on earth."

Barbara led him inside. He sighed as he settled into seat. She couldn't help but glance at the way he held his arm. She hoped it was merely a sprain and not broken. "We will. But you can't right now. You're injured."

Atlas tried to get out of the seat. "But Claire, she's—"

"Won't be hurt." She got into the driver's seat, starting the engine. Noticing her son's discomfort, she amended her answer. "At least not anytime soon. This Nomura took her, right? She knows she's important to you. She'll use Claire to get to you."

"This is so fucked up. I screwed up. What if Bular kills her?" He asked.

"Walt—" She swallowed. Don't think about him, she thought. "He's a smart changeling, right?"

Atlas paused before responding quietly, "Yeah."

"Then he'll figure out a way to keep this Bular from killing her."

"But he doesn't know I'm the Troll—" Atlas froze. His shoulders slumped forward as the redness in his cheeks faded to a sickly white. "Nomura knows."

Barbara's lips drew into a narrow line. "Yes."

"I can't go back to the Janus Order. Either they know or they will know. Dad's going to think I betrayed him," he stated, voice cracking with every word.

She reached out for his hand. "Oh sweetheart. I'm so sorry."

He dodged her hand, curling forward to grab his head. Barbara closed her eyes. He wasn't rejecting her, she reasoned, he was just frustrated. Trying to keep her mind off the reaction, she pulled onto the road.

In the corner of her eye she watched him shuffle his legs. The armor and cloak looked almost ridiculous on his smaller body, giving him the appearance of someone far younger.

Her throat closed, eyes growing blurry.

God, he was so young. Sixteen wasn't that different from fifteen. Were all Trollhunters chosen at such a young age, or was her son unlucky?

"I never should have picked up that stupid amulet," he said abruptly.

Barbara kept her eyes on the road, replying softly, "We can't change the past. Only the future."

As she reached for the stick, a hand grasped her wrist.

"What do we do, mom?"

Barbara's lips trembled. If only she could bundle him up like she did when he was younger. Her protective side warred with her inner cynical thoughts. If it were up to her, she would have called the police on this entire thing. Ha! Walt in cuffs and a black and white stripped attire was a humorous notion. Sadly, she doubted the police could handle these kinds of beings. She doubted the military could arrive in time to be of much help either.

They needed to regroup. They needed to figure out how to rescue Claire and avoid her son getting killed.

They needed to do a lot of things.

"Right now?" She turned left, the clinic's sign coming into view. "Let's get you stitched up."


The structure spanned nearly the entire width of the room. Blinky's jaw dropped. It had been several centuries since he had last seen the bridge. Even then, he was too distracted with the ensuing battle and lose of his brother to truly take in its build. Books did not do it justice.

Marvelous, intricate, horrendous—so many adjectives to describe it. The intricate linking parts, all hooking together at the eyestone, sent chills down his spine. Its concave piece meant only one thing: the amulet was the last piece.

Amulets, bridges and trolls; what a combination. As he marveled at Killahead, his thoughts couldn't help but wander. Celtic and Scandinavian myths about their people had explored the reasons for their species and the structure's connections, but even they didn't know how they could create interdimensional holes through space and time. Most trolls merely left it as magic, but not Blinky. It had been one of the biggest questions in his life. Indeed, he'd even written an entire paper on the matter. Sadly, no troll publisher would consider his work (too controversial, Vendel once remarked) but still he preserved. One day, he thought, one day.

"Great Gronka Morka," he exclaimed. "I never—the changeling was correct. No wonder Atas couldn't tell us. It's been here this entire time."

A pen clicked. Blinky froze.

"Ah," a British voice began. "What luck."

Blinky tried to back away, but he was blocked by another. "Oh, dear—"

Changelings. He put up a valiant fight, but they got the better of him. Honestly, who would have thought a changeling's punch could hurt that much?

Certainly not him.

His stomach churned. How disgraceful. A troll as old and clever as he, captured. His jail was less of a cell and more of a storage area. Wooden boxes circled the area, creating a tight jagged corner. Once the shorter changeling finished tying his hands behind his back (enchanted, he noted), Blinky smacked his head backward, earning a shocked yelp and litany of German curses.

Ha! Served him right.

AAARRRGGHH! would have been quite useful at present. Though Blinky was loathe to place his old friend out of his comfort zone, his fighting capabilities would have prevented an event such as this. Not that Blinky couldn't hold off another. His skills with Dwörkstones were no laughing matter. Alas, he failed to prepare for two sneaky changelings. Drat.

He inwardly sighed. Vendel would no doubt be furious with him. His first espionage mission and he got imprisoned.

"Right when I thought the Amulet was truly gone, an alternative appears," the taller remarked.

Blinky rounded on him. "You won't get away with this. The Trollhunter—"

"Doesn't know you're here, does he?" He tutted. "Such a fool, that one."

Blinky bared his tusks, eyes burning. "Master Atlas is no one's fool."

His mouth tightened. Going by the taller changeling's expression, he should not have said that. The other left a different impression. If Blinky were to guess, he was almost smug. But that was merely conjecture. Human expressions were not the easiest to decipher at times.

The color left the taller one's face. "So it's true then," he said softly.

The shorter gasped. "How shocking! Junger Atlas the Trollhunter? Traitorous!"

Something in the other's tone must have angered him, for the next words that left the taller's mouth was: "Leave, Otto."

"But Stricklander—"

A quick flash and the shorter was thrown across the room, smashing against the wall with a loud smash. Blinky kept two eyes on the transformed changeling. A deep seated anger began to bubble within him. This was the man who raised Atlas.

The thought did not sit well with Blinky.

Stricklander approached the other, lifting him by his coat. In an icy manner, he ordered, "I said leave."

He didn't have to tell this Otto twice. The changeling scurried out the room, leaving Strickler and Blinky as the sole occupants.

The hairs on his head stood up. Seeing a changeling this up close made his lifeblood quicken. Unnatural, his mind supplied. Skeletally thin and gangly, the changeling appeared like a mesh-mash of human and troll. His cape bellowed out behind him. Well, now he knew where Atlas got his peculiar fashion choices.

The way he stalked toward him spoke everything. This wasn't Atlas or NotEnrique. This was an elder impure. If he could be so bold, he would say this one was one of the first.

He transformed just as quickly back to human, an unimpressed sneer across his lips.

"So it was you who turned him against us," Stricklander said. In one fluid movement he unclicked his pen, fingers wound around it so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"I did nothing of the sort. I merely facilitated his learning. He's a bright lad," Blinky defended.

"That he is," Stricklander said, a ghost of a smile passing over him before it gained a bitter edge. "But that doesn't excuse his behavior,"

"All the disappearances, his reluctance to kill the Trollhunter—it all makes sense now." His eyes widened. He walked around in a circle, clicking his pen in an erratic rhythm. "Yes, yes, yes, why didn't I see it before? How foolish of me." He stopped. His shoulders rose. "I won't make the same mistake again. I take it the Amulet controls his forms?"

Blinky threw him a disdainful scoff. "As though I would tell you."

Stricklander approached, close enough to look down at him but far enough that Blinky could grab him between his teeth. Blinky crossed his legs. The less distressed he appeared the more information he might receive.

"You must be the infamous Blinky I've heard so much about," he noted in a bored tone.

Blinky cocked his head to the side, voice equally unimpressed. "And you must be the infamous father."

A red blush overtook his features. He growled, "I am not that traitor's father. Not anymore. He has lost that privilege."

Blinky scooted forward. As the changeling schooled his features, Blinky remarked, "How pitiful. He loves you. Do you understand what that means? He protected you the most, not that you deserved it. And you would throw it all away for this? This power?"

"You know nothing."

"I know everything!" He shouted, anger getting the best of him. How could it not? "You, sir, are one of the worst fathers I have ever had the acquittance of, and I knew Odinum the Child Eater! Good conversationalist, yes, but a terrible father figure." He huffed. "I digress however. You are worse. Turning a blind eye to his abuse, allowing Bular and the others to hurt someone who is no more than a child—you and your organization disgust me."

"Your words fail to move me, troll. I think we'll offer you to Gunmar first. Not as tasty as a human, but certainly plump enough," he spat.

Blinky shot back, "How am I not surprised. Cease this madness, impure. You and I both know what will happen if Gunmar returns. No one is safe from that monster, not even you."

He clicked his pen. "Gunmar will lead us into a new era—"

"Hogwash! Gunmar will lead everyone to ruin. You're playing with people's lives! Humans, trolls, and changelings! Have you no sanity?"

Stricklander released a dark chuckle. His eyes sparked, promising death. Blinky bared his teeth. Let him try.

"Sanity? I am the sanest of all, you daft buffoon. Do you think humans or trolls would ever accept one of us? Not one troll has offered us a home, save Gunmar. Our creator tasked this to us for a reason. We have spent millennia working towards this." He thrust his pen at Blinky, eyes tight. "One child means nothing. It cannot. I've worked too far to turn back."

"And all it takes is one to put an end to it. Atlas believes you can change, all of you, but especially you. He trusts you."

"And you believe him?" He scoffed bitterly.

"I believe Master Atlas can do anything he sets his mind to," Blinky answered, head held high.

The changeling frowned. He turned away. "If Young Atlas won't open it for us, maybe he'll open it for you."

"You're making a mistake."

"No, it was Atlas who made the mistake," he replied. "Not I."

An angry scream broke their argument. A pink changeling (Nomura, he thought, oh dear) strolled in, dropping a young human to the floor.

The child blinked owlishly, scanning the room. She raised her fists. When Nomura made no move for her, the girl examined the room. Her eyes landed on Stricklander.

"Mr. Strickler?" She asked, brows coming together.

"Nomura," he started in an admonishing manner, gesturing the pen at the human. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Yes, Nomura. I thought I told you to bring me the Trollhunter." A dark figure loomed behind her.

Blinky gulped. Bular the Vicious. A sudden chill ran down his back. By the Void, he wished AAARRRGGHH! were here. Selfish yes, but his life was now on the line.

The troll threw a glance at him before switching to the human, licking his lips. The girl tensed, but kept her defensive stance.

Oh dear.

"The Trollhunter is—" Nomura paused, eyes widening.

"Protected by humans," Stricklander responded tersely.

"A very difficult situation," Otto said, arms behind his back as he entered behind Bular. "My apologies, sire."

"This one is further insurance. He's soft for her," Nomura explained.

"Humans will get suspicious, Nomura. She's the daughter of the councilwoman. The police will be swarming the town for her by tomorrow," Stricklander argued.

Bular crossed his arms. "Good. More fleshbags for us to eat. Father will be pleased. He always did like it when prey put up a fight."

"Yes, sire. Such a brilliant idea!" Otto remarked merrily.

Bular slammed a fist to the ground, startling everyone. When he lifted it, rubble appeared.

Great Gronka Morka.

"Strickler. Nomura." Bular said distastefully, "You two have displeased me. Your incompetence time and time again has tried my patience. Father will hear of this."

"He'll come, sire." Stricklander urged, motioning back to Blinky. "The troll is his trainer."

Bular signaled to the human, stepping closer. The girl tried to move away. "Then we don't need two hostages, now do we?"

Blinky sucked in his breath as Bular picked the human up by her hair. He dug his claws into her head. A shrill painful noise left her lips before the troll shook her. The child fell silent. Blinky would have thought she'd fainted, but her shaking legs said otherwise.

"Stop! Please! She's just a child!" Blinky yelled, rising to his feet.

All three changelings stiffened. A look passed between the group. Something was going on between them. What that was remained a mystery however.

"Killing her would be meaningless. If anything, it would drive the Trollhunter to bring his allies," Stricklander tried to argue.

Otto nodded. "The troll is right, sire. Not to mention she's practically skin and bones. There's not much there to eat. She wouldn't even qualify in the caliber of a snack for you, my lord. You deserve far better."

"Draal the Deadly lives with him," Nomura added.

Blinky shouted above the trio, "And Trollmarket is already gathering their forces. We know about the bridge. You won't get away with this!"

Bular appeared to dismiss the changelings words, responding to Blinky's words with an anger look before replying, "Lies."

"No," Stricklander said, stepping forward. "Atlas has…defected to their side."

"How am I not surprised," Bular grumbled.

Stricklander bowed deeply, heading for the exit. "I will deal with him—"

"No," Bular interrupted, pushing Stricklander away forcefully. "I will. You've done enough, Strickler."

With a flick of his wrist the human was tossed into the makeshift jail. She landed on her hands and knees, immediately curling up into a ball. Blinky winced. A handful of hair and a few hairclips sat in Bular's palm. The troll looked down, shrugged, then downed the contents. Blinky inwardly shuddered.

The girl hugged her legs even tighter. The scent of pennies filled the air.

"You," Bular addressed Otto with a nod of his head. "Make yourself useful and get me something to eat."

"Of course, sire. Whatever you desire I shall endeavor to retrieve for you," Otto said dutifully, following after the troll whilst heaping compliments towards his physique.

The tension decreased a fraction, but only just. As Bular's footsteps disappeared, Blinky switched his full attention to the changelings.

Their body language said everything he needed to know.

"Oh dear, he doesn't know yet," Blinky began, brows rising. "Yes, of course. It wouldn't bode well for the Janus Order if one of their own turned out to be the Trollhunter."

"Do you ever shut up?" Stricklander spat. "Don't answer that."

He harrumphed.

Stricklander tossed one last look of distaste at him before turning to Nomura. "Keep them under guard. I'll be back in the morning."

"Me? Why not you?"

"Unlike you, Nomura. I have work to do," he replied curtly.

She threw him a disdainful glower. "How fun."

"I trust you know what to do."

Stricklander's exit sucked the energy out of Blinky as he realized the helplessness of his situation. It had been ages since he felt this despondent, not since—

No, best not to dwell on such thoughts. His shoulders slumped forward. His brother was dead and gone. Such thoughts would only discourage him.

Nomura slammed a fist into the wall, startling both captives. Her glare could melt glaciers, he thought. "Sit down and shut up," she ordered, muttering beneath her breath, "Fucking stuck with babysitting."

The girl shivered; somehow, it softened his frustration with the situation. Poor child. She hadn't done anything to be caught up in this. First her brother and now this.

A rush of confidence filled him. Even if he didn't make it out alive, he would be damn sure the child would, mark his words. She was small enough to escape. If ever the opportunity arrived, he would make sure she would get to safety.

One of them had to at least.

"So," Blinky began in a soft tone, rubbing his hands together. She looked up. He tried to appear as nonthreatening as possible. "You must be Lady Claire."