Kat: Lord John Roxton hunter extraordinaire + diaper changing = NO WAY! Lol. I think he would make a wonderful father, but changing soiled diapers is crossing the line.
KDC: Hey, I do what I can. Lol.
Keys: grimaces Ah, sorry, buddy, but…no…this is only the tip of the iceberg. By the way, I love the quote you have up on your bio. I've used it myself once or twice.
ChosenOne: Updates more often? Don't count on it. sighs All this staring at the computer screen is giving me headaches. Anyway, you never answered my question: do you have writer's block on Destiny Calls? It's been over three months since the last update.
Panda: Your wish will notbe granted. Well…at least not totally. EEK! But things need to go wrong or this wouldn't be much of a story. Sorry! But don't worry: neither Lillian nor William will die…or, at least I don't plan to kill them.
Fab: One has to wonder…Anyway, when are you going to start writing fanfic? Or have you already and I just don't know about it?
Zeus: Thanks! How are your stories coming along?
Taya: For someone from Germany, you write better English than some Americans: no lie. So, I wouldn't worry too much about it.
MMJ: Ah, so many questions! Lol. Yet, as much as I would love to answer them…I won't! I refuse! You can't make me! You're just going to have to keep on reading!
EVERYONE: I'm terribly sorry for the long delay. I've been ill. Anyway, have you bought your copy of the Lost World Season One, yet?
Chapter Eight
Nightly Activities
Marguerite had relented under Roxton's pressure to finally inform the others of her experiences. Naturally, they were all concerned for the children. It was decided that they would take shifts keeping watch. It was Malone's turn and the early morning found him in the rocker scribbling in his journal.
Even as I write these words I know it sounds outlandish. Who in their stable mind would believe such incredible accounts of sorcerers and awesome displays of magic? Magic. No. That's not the correct word for what's happening here. It's not magic. There are no rabbits being pulled from hats or mirror illusions tricking your eyes. This is something real…and – dare I say – evil.
How would Marguerite react to such an assumption? I think that she senses the root of her power is evil, but she doesn't want to face it. For if her power is evil wouldn't that make her evil? And – more disturbingly – if she is evil then that must mean that she's given birth to evil by passing on her wickedness. Yet, what mother can accept such a vile thought of her daughter being the progeny of wickedness?
Malone set his pen down, pondering that last paragraph. Could it be that Lillian was partially immoral due to the evil power passed down to her by her mother? Not that Marguerite would be to blame. She had no control over what was unraveling. In fact, that got him wondering: was Marguerite's father – a sorcerer – one who was cast away by the Protector (Veronica's and Marguerite's mother)? Could it be that he was malicious? An evil sorcerer who tricked Abigail into his bed in order to pass on his tainted blood?
"What's got you thinking so hard," a warm voiced teased from above him.
Malone jerked, his eyes flashing up. He'd been caught being inattentive. It would be his head on a silver platter if either Marguerite or Roxton found out he hadn't been paying attention. "Marguerite's father," he answered distractedly.
Veronica looked at him quizzically. "Her father?"
Malone shook his head. "Never mind." He closed his journal and set it aside on the floor. "What are you doing up? I'm not supposed to wake you for another hour."
The jungle beauty shrugged, softly walking towards Lillian's crib. Peering down at the sleeping angel, Veronica whispered: "Couldn't sleep."
Malone nodded in understanding. "Anxious, I know."
Veronica chuckled. "No. Marguerite and Roxton were making too much noise. Didn't you hear them?"
Malone smiled sheepishly. "Nope. I guess I was lost more in my writing than I thought." He paused, straining his ears. "I don't hear them now either."
Veronica strolled back to him and Malone stood up, offering the chair to her. She gratefully accepted while Malone took residence on the floor. "Well, they're done now. It was that last stifled scream that finally got me out of bed. I give them credit for at least attempting to keep quiet."
Malone laughed. "I'm surprised. They usually are careful at keeping silent. Normally, I never hear a thing except maybe the creaking of the bed."
"There was that one time, though," Veronica pointed out, holding back a smile. "Remember? Roxton was practically howling."
"Oh God, why'd you remind me?" Malone groaned in exaggerated agony. "And then they both began moaning so loud it disrupted the wildlife."
Veronica giggled, highly amused at the memory. "I don't think they knew we were home. Because moments later Roxton stumbled out wearing only his trousers."
"And they were unzipped," Malone exclaimed.
"The look on his face was priceless!"
"He was shocked."
"Horrified."
"Embarrassed."
"Remember what he said?"
Malone snorted. "How could I forget?" He cleared his throat and in his best Roxton interpretation said: "'You heard that? Because I can explain. We were only…' And by that time we were laughing too hard to hear his excuse."
Veronica sighed, gaining control of her laughter. "The poor guy."
"Hey," a voice called out harshly.
Veronica and Malone whipped their heads around to see Roxton poking his head into the room.
"Could you guys keep it down," the hunter ordered. "Some people are trying to sleep around here."
Veronica and Malone looked at each other and burst out laughing.
End Chapter Eight
I began writing this with the intent of making it a suspenseful chapter, but this is what came out instead. Oh well.