Here we are for chapter 2! This was another one I had a lot of fun re-writing because it was another chance to highlight the very different ways in which Mika and Kurda are equally protective of the same thing. There's quite a bit of dialogue in this one that's been left intact not just from last year's update, but the ORIGINAL original from 2013. This one also has a callback in one of the most recent chapters of Bloodline, because this is where everything truly changes for Mika and Kurda.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2: It Had To Be You

The sun was almost up by the time the vampires reached the outskirts of town, so they found a motel as quickly as they could. They'd had to walk the last ten miles because it turned out babies didn't take well to piggyback flitting. Their newest companion puked all over Kurda's hair and shirt, which boosted Mika's mood considerably. Kurda had never heard him laugh so genuinely. Then again, it was at Kurda's expense so it wasn't that shocking.

They staggered into the motel just in time to escape the rising sun.

"How precious!" the impossibly chipper clerk cooed over the sight of the baby whose head was resting in the crook of Kurda's arm as though she belonged there. "What an absolute darling!"

Mika forced a brittle smile and tapped a foot impatiently as Kurda signed them into a room.

"Hold old is the little angel?" She added eagerly, reading out to tickle her chin.

Fuck if they knew.

"One." said Mika.

"Six months." said Kurda at the exact same moment, then shot a quick glare at Mika. The clerk giggled merrily and inquired,

"And how long have you two been together?"

Mika and Kurda each launched into a separate and frantic explanation of No oh my god no not like that nope nope nope. If that had sounded awkward (and it definitely had) the clerk showed no sign of suspicion. In fact, she was so awestruck over the child that she came out from behind the counter for an even closer look.

"You're just the sweetest little thing I ever did see!" she cooed, stroking the wispy locks. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"She can't talk yet." Mika replied wisely. The clerk laughed loudly.

"Well, what's her name?"

"Josephine." Said Kurda quickly on impulse. It was the name of the first and only girlfriend he'd ever had in his human years, before coming to the conclusion that he didn't really want a girlfriend. It was a better name than what Mika came up with.

"Vancha." Mika blurted at the exact same time. The walls were the same shade of green as his friend's hair – it was the first word that came to his mind. Also, he was running on minimal sleep. Kurda slapped his palm to his forehead in frustration. For being a compulsive overachiever, Mika was fumbling this situation in a truly spectacular way.

"She is your baby, correct?" Now the clerk looked skeptical and understandably concerned. Once again Mika and Kurda attempted to explain simultaneously. The clerk was only able to catch phrases such as "niece" "cousin" "in-law" and "three times removed".

"Why don't you two take a seat?" The clerk suggested reproachfully. "I'm just gonna make a few quick calls..."

"Probably better if you don't." Mika muttered resignedly. Before her human brain could register him moving towards her she was unconscious, having landed softly in Kurda's arms.

"Warn me next time you gas someone out." the blond grunted, carefully dragging her behind the counter. "Sometimes they get concussions when their heads hit the floor, you know. Also, notice I just caught her while also holding this baby with my other arm. Remember that next time you and your friends laugh about how a soft breeze would blow me away."

Mika wrinkled his nose disdainfully.

"She was nosy. Didn't like her."

"She was being nice. Humans like babies."

"She was going to call the authorities!"

"Isn't that what we want?" Kurda sighed. "We could've saved ourselves a trip to the orphanage. Left her here and flitted away."

"...Into the sunlight." Mika snorted. "And you're the smartest vampire in the clan?"

"Whatever. I'm just saying she meant well."

"Charna's guts, don't you ever get tired of seeing the best in people?"

"No. Don't you ever tire of being a miserable prick?"

"No."

"Gods, your mental health must be spectacular."

"Shut up and grab the room key."

Kurda obliged, and soon they were settling into room 13.

"So, what now?" Mika asked. He was lying on the bed, crunching loudly through a bag of chips he'd procured from the outdoor vending machine. It had been years since he'd tasted such a delicacy. Mika was a bit of a processed food aficionado. Even back in the mountain Kurda didn't think he'd ever witnessed Mika eat something raw. Like any other vampire, he could. But being himself, he didn't.

"Now you want my input?" Kurda snorted. He was sitting at the foot of the bed with the baby in his lap, physically as far away from Mika as he could get while still sitting on the bed. It was difficult because Mika had sprawled out like he owned the place. Entitled prick. Kurda would be sleeping on the floor tonight.

"I don't know how babies work." Said Mika through a mouthful of Doritos. "I'm just here to make sure you get her to the orphanage in one piece."

"We need to feed her." Said Kurda. "We don't know when she ate last. She's not a newborn, she looks old enough to eat solid food... ah, ouch! There's definitely a few teeth in there!"

"Well, in that case... have at it." Mika tossed Kurda a Dorito.

"She can't eat this!" Kurda gasped, shooting Mika an incredulous stare. "This is processed junk! I'll go to the store across the road and find something better."

But she'd already locked her sights onto the Dorito, and was reaching longingly for it, chubby little fingers wiggling in anticipation.

"No, honey. This is bad for you." Said Kurda gently.

She whimpered in frustration and reached for it again, as Kurda held it further away.

"Smahlt, give her the Dorito." Said Mika. Kurda glared. The baby began to cry.

"I am not giving a Dorito to a baby!" Kurda argued, trying to ignore the crying.

"Sorry. I should've clarified that was a direct order." Said Mika boredly, almost lazily. His eyes told a different story, though. He was staring back at Kurda rather aggressively. Clearly he'd taken a strong stance on this matter. "We just took her out of a house full of dead family members. She's not even halfway through her first day of being an orphan. So if she wants a Dorito, she can have a fucking Dorito."

"I suppose you've got me there." Kurda signed mournfully. He held up the Dorito. "Open wide!"

One Dorito turned into two, and she'd soon demolished all of them, leaving Mika in shock. He hadn't quite been prepared to part with the entire bag. It was a tiny bag, but still.

"Not like I was hungry or anything." the Prince commented, crumpling the empty bag and tossing it into the wastebasket.

"You started this!" Kurda huffed. "If she gets sick from all those chips, you're cleaning it up."

Mika peered quizzically at him, as though those words didn't compute in his brain.

"Good one. Say something else funny."

"I would, but I'm going to the store across the highway to pick up some proper food for her."

"Pick me up a new bag of chips while you're at it. The ones that come in a can. I like those."

"As you wish, Sire. Barbecue or cool ranch?" Kurda rolled his eyes sardonically.

"Barbecue. I'm not an animal." Said Mika with a completely straight face. Kurda was a pacifist, but he still could've punched him.

"I'll see what I can do." He told Mika through gritted teeth. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Just don't let her roll off the bed."

"Don't let her roll off the bed!" Mika mimicked Kurda's parting words in a heavily exaggerated high pitch once the General was out of earshot. Then he glanced over at the baby. She was sitting a few feet away, at the foot of the bed. She watched him curiously while nibbling on her fingers. "See how much faith he has in us?" Mika added, with complete seriousness. Like he was talking to a colleague in a meeting. "Look at you. You're way too smart to roll off the bed."

As if she understood every word, she abruptly lurched to the right and would've dove head-first to the floor if not for Mika's lightning reflexes.

"Charna's guts, what did I just say?" He muttered, eyeing her reproachfully as he set her right-side up on the bed. His heart was pounding unexpectedly - for a moment he feared he'd accidentally hurt her in his haste to grab her before she fell. He'd never handled anything this fragile in his entire life. But she didn't seem at all phased. She seemed to think the situation was hilarious.

Mika once heard someone say that babies are tough. But he called bullshit on that one. There was nothing tough about this soft, innocent little creature. She should be back in her house right now, he thought to himself. She should be in her parents' arms, eating breakfast with her family in their cozy kitchen. But instead she was here in a crappy motel, where her only company blood-sipping son of the night. Destiny really dealt this kid a shitty hand.

Her blissful ignorance was a small mercy, though. Mika found some semblance of comfort in the fact that she wouldn't remember any of this. As he flipped aimlessly through TV channels, he watched out of the corner of his eye as she slowly crawled closer to where he was sitting up against the headboard. She made her way up until she was right beside him, and curled up against his leg like a cat. Very cautiously, Mika reached down and petted her on the head. Then recoiled and panicked for a minute because he vaguely remembered hearing something about some point about babies having a soft spot on their heads. Which seemed like a major fucking design flaw, in Mika's opinion. He was pretty sure this one was old enough to have a fully-formed skull, but there was no way to know for sure.

She was still clinging to the pink blanket they'd brought from the house. Mika had paid it no mind until now, but there appeared to be some embroidery in the corner. He flattened the fabric between his fingers so he could read it properly:

Grace.

"Nice to meet you, Grace." Said Mika quietly. "Sorry about the circumstances. We're handling it, though. Just hang in there."

She responded by making a gurgling noise and latching her mouth around his hand. He gently but swiftly withdrew it, muttering "Let go of that... you don't know where it's been."

Mika did the considerate thing and tuned the television to what seemed to be a children's show; a gang of middle-aged men singing about such things as vegetables and feelings. Their shirts said Wiggles but their eyes said help, in Mika's opinion. Unfortunately for him, she took a shine to them and when Mika decided he'd had enough and changed the channel in favour of the morning news, she let loose a cacophony of shrieks that assaulted his sensitive eardrums for fifteen minutes before he abandoned his pride and returned to the Wiggles.

This is fine. We're fine. Kurda will be back any second, Mika told himself.

Then there came the smell.

He knew exactly what the smell was, and quite frankly he was embarrassed that neither him nor Kurda had considered the possibility that their companion was going to need at least one diaper change before they parted ways.

His first thought was to get her off the bed and into the bathroom, where he managed to place her gingerly on the countertop, keeping her still with one hand and peeling off the dirty diaper with the other, and throwing it in the trash. That was step one.

He had no earthly clue what step two was supposed to be, but his body decided for him when he instinctively put the baby in the sink so he could turn away to vomit spectacularly into the toilet. Because it was just that bad.

Mika is tough in a lot of ways. Just not all ways. The youngest Vampire Prince in history, the fearless war hero, spent ten minutes attempting to regain his composure before standing back up to finish what he started. She was there waiting for him, sitting in the sink, grinning and waving her hands like there was nowhere she'd rather be.

"Glad you're enjoying this." He told her.

In the next ten minutes, Mika watched his dignity jump out the window and run down the street naked before being hit by a semi truck, and dying a slow, painful death in the gutter. This was a battle he wouldn't win. Mostly because he didn't have a fresh diaper to change her into.

Kurda returned to a sight which made him freeze in the bathroom doorway, torn between horror and amusement. He settled for pity.

Mika was in the bathtub, soaking in a bubble bath which was so dense that he was only visible from the nose up. The baby had a similar bath of her own, in the sink. And the garbage can was overflowing with the evidence of a botched diaper changing, including an entire roll of toilet paper and a few ruined motel towels. Kurda had never wanted to take a photo so badly in his life.

The blond raised an eyebrow at his colleague.

"...I tried to change her and I realized we don't have the things." Mika muttered, sounding subdued and battle-weary, like he'd made the trip to hell and back multiple times in Kurda's absence.

"I... oh." Kurda frowned. He just knew they'd been missing something. "We have pillowcases." he decided finally. "We'll put something together. That'll have to do till we get her to the orphanage. And while I applaud your resourcefulness, I don't think a motel bathroom sink is the best place to leave a baby."

"What would you have done, oh master of strategy?" Mika growled.

Kurda shrugged. But as tired and crabby as he was, he couldn't stifle a chuckle.

"Is something funny, Smahlt?"

"Of course not. The sight of one of our mighty Princes being humbled by an infant isn't amusing in the slightest."

"I can't believe this." Mika muttered. "Almost ten thousand vampires in this clan... and it had to be you. How is this my life?"

Kurda ignored him and scooped the soapy baby out of the sink, cooing gibberish. He carried her back out to the main room. By the time Mika drained the bathtub, re-dressed, and joined them, she was sporting a fresh diaper assembled from a repurposed pillow case. And Kurda was preparing a meal that admittedly looked like a much more appropriate option than the Doritos.

"I thought you bailed on us." Mika grunted as he flopped back down on the bed beside Kurda, who was cradling Grace in his arms again as though they'd never been apart.

"I thought about bailing on you." Kurda replied lightly. "But I couldn't do that to her."

"Grace." Said Mika automatically.

"What?"

Mika pointed at the corner of the blanket where her name (as far as they could assume) was embroidered. Kurda's face lit up with a wide grin and he kissed her forehead.

"Ah! A perfect name for a perfect girl!" He told her eagerly, and she giggled contentedly at him.

"It's a nice name. Could be worse. Some people name their kids Kurda." Mika remarked, but Kurda didn't even glance at him. Mika watched studiously out of the corner of his eye.

They'd had this baby for about three hours total and it looked like Kurda already had it figured out. From the fluent baby chatter that made her light up, to the way he held her with total confidence, to the way she beamed up at him. He looked like a natural. Like he could be her dad. They even had the same hair.

But Mika pushed it out of his mind. After tomorrow, they'd never see her again. And they'd go back to Vampire Mountain where he never had to worry about Kurda Fucking Smahlt being better than him at anything, ever.

Eventually, Kurda fell asleep on his back, with Grace curled up in the crook of his arm. Both of them out like a light. Mika turned the TV off and slowly got off the bed to relocate to the floor. But the movement was enough to wake Kurda. He opened his bleary eyes and glanced at Mika.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to drift off." Kurda mumbled. "I'll get off the bed - it's all yours."

Mika shook his head quickly before Kurda could move.

"No, stay there." He insisted begrudgingly. "She'll wake up if you move. I'll take the floor."

Kurda managed an apologetic smile.

"Thanks. Next time, you can have the bed. Promise."

"Trust me, we're never going to be in this situation ever again." Mika retorted. Albeit softly, to avoid waking Grace from her slumber. Kurda rolled his eyes, then closed them.

Mika hauled a spare blanket out of the closet that smelled like moth balls, and curled up on the floor. And within minutes, he was asleep too.

She must've been just as tired as them, because she slept almost the entire day away. There was one point where she woke them both up with a shrill howl, indicating another diaper change was needed - luckily there was a second pillowcase. Mika faked a loud snore so Kurda would handle the situation.

They tried to stay positive as they left the motel under the cover of night, following Kurda's map to the orphanage. But the further they walked, the more disheartened they became.

This city was cold. And even though it was winter, the chill felt like it went far beyond the surface temperature. It was an industrial hub; the acrid stench of factory smoke was constant. There was hateful graffiti on every corner, and used needles sprinkled the sidewalks like confetti. Homeless humans everywhere. An endless trail of boarded-up or smashed-in storefronts. Despair as far as the eye could see. It looked like the good of humanity had given up on this corner of the world.

"Charming place." Mika muttered under his breath after politely declining a ten-dollar blowjob from a woman who propositioned him as they walked past the third gentlemen's club they'd seen in as many blocks. "Stay close to me." He added, glancing at Kurda. "I don't really care if you get snatched, but I'm not letting anyone or anything touch her."

Kurda was too uncomfortable with the situation to clap back with sarcasm. He just nodded mutely and held Gracie tighter against his chest, readjusting his coat to keep her hidden. He knew Mika didn't feel a hell of a lot better. And he also knew sarcasm was always Mika's first line of defence in the unlikely occurrence of vulnerability. Not that either vampire would've a problem defending themselves from a human. If not for their precious cargo, none of this would've even registered as a threat.

"I don't like it here." Kurda murmured as they rounded a corner. Mika said nothing, but the way his steely eyes were anxiously scanning their surroundings said it all.

Kurda yelped in alarm as he felt an unfamiliar hand on his waist. Upon passing an alley entrance, a very intoxicated man had stumbled out of nowhere and grabbed him, hard. And before Kurda could react any further than that, Mika had whipped around and slammed the man against the brick wall. One hand around his neck and the other holding a dagger against the vulnerable flesh of his throat.

"Walk away, or you'll never walk again." Mika growled viciously. But it was apparent the man barely even knew where he was, much less that he was being threatened. He stared back at Mika through unfocused, glassy eyes. There was more than alcohol in his system. Mika relaxed slightly, and released him. And the man wandered back into the alley like nothing happened.

"You good?" Mika asked with a sideways glance at Kurda.

"Yeah." Said Kurda stiffly. "Nice reflexes."

"You can't let your guard down in a place like this." Said Mika seriously. "I know you look for the best in people. But you're not going to find it here."

"I figured that out three catcalls ago, thanks." Kurda sighed. Then he glanced down into his coat. "You doing okay in there, honey?"

She babbled something in baby-language, and Kurda gave her nose a quick boop before he wrapped her up again.

"How is she?" Mika inquired as they walked onwards.

"She has no idea anything's wrong." Said Kurda.

"Good. I think we're almost there. Once she's safe, we can get out of this place." Said Mika. He sounded grim and weary. Kurda said nothing.

"This. Is. Terrible." Kurda gasped. You'd think he was looking at a battlefield, not into the window of an orphanage. He insisted on doing some recon before they dropped their precious package off, so here they were clinging to an ugly yellow wall 20 feet off the ground, shamelessly spying.

"It's rather dismal, isn't it?" Mika muttered. They were looking down into what appeared to be a play room, but there wasn't much play occurring. There were at least 50 kids, some looked to be in their teens. There were a few playpens along the walls, holding varying numbers of boys and girls around Grace's age. There weren't many toys or books, and the few they had looked grubby and outdated by at least a few decades. All of the children were poorly-dressed and had a suspiciously hungry look about them. Few were smiling. Even more depressed looked the handful of caretakers who drifted aimlessly around the room.

The Prince and the General exchanged a glance and released their grip on the wall, dropping silently into the snow. Grace let out a peal of laughter, an indication that she'd quite enjoyed the brief ride from her secure spot in Kurda's backpack, which he'd temporarily repurposed into a Snuggie.

For a moment, they just stood there in the snow, minds racing. How were they supposed to know that somewhere high above them, the stars were aligning?

"We aren't leaving her here."

They spoke at the same time, in perfect synchronization as if they shared one mind. Then they gawked at each other in abject shock, both unable to process the other had just said that. Because the idea of agreeing on anything had been unthinkable until this exact second. But suddenly, the only thing that was unthinkable was leaving an innocent child in this place.

"So what now?" Kurda murmured as they turned their backs on the building and began to walk away.

"We try another town. Another orphanage. They can't all look like this." Mika replied.

"This country is in a massive economic recession." Kurda pointed out dismally. "And this entire region is rough at the best of times, the government is corrupt. Drugs. Sex trafficking. Gang violence. We can certainly try another town, but I don't think it'll look any different than this."

"So... leave her at a church? Or a fire station? People do that, right?"

"That'd be the same as leaving her at the orphanage, with an extra step!" Kurda sighed. "Where do you think they take the abandoned kids? They don't raise them in the fire station."

"Let's hear your great ideas, then!" Mika snapped. "Don't be shy, Smahlt! I thought you were all about brain power."

"There has to be at least one nice house in this town. If we can find a higher-income area, maybe we can leave her on a doorstep."

"Right. Because money buys good parents." Mika scoffed. "This is coming from an ex rich kid, by the way. And according to you I turned out terribly."

"You know what money does buy? Food! Warm clothes! Education!" Kurda shot back, temper flaring. "Why ask for my input if you're just going to throw it back in my face? If you're as good a leader as you think you are, prove it! Figure it out yourself, Sire!"

Mika exhaled a low groan of aggravation and ran his hand through his hair discontentedly.

"I... I don't... I just... Fuck, Kurda!" He burst out at last, turning to face Kurda with a frantic look in his eyes. "How am I supposed to know what to do about this?! I don't know anything about kids, never mind babies! All I know is that she lost her entire family in one night because I didn't do my job!"

Kurda took away exactly two major points from Mika's moment of explosive honesty.

One: he called Kurda by his first name. That wasn't normally a thing. It was Smahlt, General Smahlt, General Smartass, The Pacifist (derogatory), or Hey You.

Two: "I didn't do my job". MY job. Not OUR job. He could aim as many snide jabs as he wanted at Kurda, but the truth was clear. Mika didn't actually blame Kurda for their failure to stop the mad vampaneze. He only blamed himself. And it was eating him alive.

Kurda took a deep breath.

"What if we brought her back to the mountain with us?" He offered apprehensively. The idea wasn't even fully formed in his brain, yet it slipped out anyway.

There was a pause. Mika stared back at him, aghast.

"I'm sorry, I must've blacked out and misheard you because there is no WAY-"

"What other options do we have?"

"Do you know what the consequences are for bringing in a kid these days?" Mika snapped. "I mean, they can't kill me... but you on the other hand."

"Are you being ignorant on purpose?!" Kurda smacked his palm to his forehead, not for the first time in the past 24 hours. "We're not turning her into a vampire! I meant we'll keep her safe. As a human. You and I both know this is no place to leave a little girl alone. Best case scenario, she gets adopted by nice people. Worst case scenario? There's no limit to how many different ways things could end badly for her. Adopting children is expensive and this is a poor area. She might get lucky! Or she might end up like that woman outside the bar. Are we rolling those dice?" Kurda was panting heavily by the time he finished. And he stood by every single word he said.

"So you're saying an ice-covered mountain in the middle of nowhere full of vampires and sharp objects, stake pits, and spiders the size of your face is a much safer option. I concur." Mika huffed. He was scowling, but Kurda could see his mental gears turning.

"I understand your point, although the sarcasm is unnecessary." Said Kurda evenly. "We'd be there to look out for her."

Mika fell silent again, carefully mulling over his options.

"It'd be temporary." He muttered at last. He was contemplative, like he was talking more to himself then Kurda. "We'll do some searching until we find a safe place for her to grow up. We owe her that much."

The Prince cast his steely gaze down to the pink bundle in Kurda's arms, and immediately softened at the sight of her. Almost hesitantly, he reached out and gently stroked her golden hair. It was pretty clear that Mika wasn't as comfortable touching and holding her as Kurda was. But he looked at her the same way Kurda did. And that was all that mattered.

"You're coming home with us."

Thanks for reading! I'm really making a concerted effort to keep this story more fast-paced and easy to digest compared to Bloodine, so I'm trying SUPER hard not to go over 5k words per chapter.

If you're enjoying this, I would be beyond ecstatic if you left a comment. I truly am not exaggerating when I tell you they make me smile.

Cheers, friends!

- Roxy