auroraglider, bunnychica9 and AxidentlGoddess, big thanks to you, my faithful reviewers for your thoughts on the last chapter! Just to warn you I am only just starting to write chapter 15 at present, so post may slow down to once a week (I'm sorry!) depending on how I go with it. Going to be quite busy over the next few weeks as well, so it'll be as and when I can sit down to write in peace! You all take the time to read my stories, I like to take the time to write the very best I can for you :) As always, I look forward to your thoughts!
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Tyra's POV
Looking around me at all of the emptied and still full bags, I marvel that someone as small as Milla needs so much stuff. It's 10pm and I've just finished constructing her new crib with Eric's help, and he's currently and very carefully placing her into it. I'm surprised she hasn't woken so far, with all my cursing at not being able to construct her new crib in quite the time I planned to. I do have work to be getting on with, after all.
"This will be so much easier to do, look after her when we're living at the new house. Even though I hope for something miraculous there, that our house is built sooner than expected, and also that Agnes actually finds the kidnap culprits and returns to take Milla back to Norway with her before we even move in," Eric says as he picks up empty shopping bags off the floor and I begin unpacking all of her new clothes. This actually stirs the first heartfelt emotion in me concerning Milla so far, as I take the tags off all of the tiny little (and even I have to admit, cute) clothes. I sit and think how unfair this is, how it should be Nina enjoying her newborn, buying clothes and toys for her with more gusto than I certainly did, and in general just not being as grumpy as I am over the presence of a baby.
"Yeah, yeah I'm hoping so too. Thank hell we had the foresight to have guest bedrooms incorporated into the new house, so at least if she is still with us when we move in she'll have a room of her own. I'm not going to paint it in pretty colours though, she can have a plain white room since she isn't going to be a permanent fixture in our lives," I reply while pulling a tag off of a grey and white striped sleep suit Lafayette picked out. He certainly showed a lot more enthusiasm with choosing clothes than I did. If he and Jesus go the distance, I can see them adopting or having a surrogate to carry a child of theirs. They'd make excellent father's.
"That's a good idea, yes. I'm actually going over there now to talk to Jake about how things are coming along, now you're back to take care of Milla. Give me a kiss, I won't be long, darling." He tells me, coming over and receiving the kiss he seeks before he picks up his car keys and heads out the door, leaving me to fold clothes while figuring out where I'm going to put them. There has to be space in our walk in wardrobe, it's the size of some people's kitchens after all. After all folding has been done I head into said wardrobe and manage to shuffle a few things around, finding enough space to put all of Milla's clothes away and even a spare overhead shelf for folded blankets. I brought a collapsible storage basket I intend for her toys, of which I have also provided her with.
Just as I'm coming back out again I hear Milla beginning to cry, which is the cue for my first time trying to soothe her by myself. I know Eric fed her a few hours ago, but young babies need to be fed on a regular basis so I wager before I've even picked her up this is the reason she's having a shout. She smells fresh at least, so I guess being hungry is the cause. Now, to prepare a bottle, something I don't know how to do. Luckily though, I find the instructions right there on the side of the tub of formula, but I still consult an official YouTube channel about it.
"There, that's what you wanted." I tell Milla as she begins to suck at the teat of her newly prepared bottle a while later, the noise cut out and the room silent again apart from her snuffles and suckling sounds. It's as she drinks her milk that I can taste my last drink on my tongue still, a gin and bitter lemon. I'm mixing myself one just as soon as I'm done feeding Milla, I've decided. Except that once she's guzzled down her feed I have to burp her, and then change my dress when her spit up misses the towel I threw over my shoulder and goes all down my back.
After that she does a fart so loud that if Sookie had her kitchen window back in Bon Temps she'd have heard it, which is means she pooped, and when I'm in the middle of changing her, she pees all over the changing mat, and the sleeve of the fresh top I just changed into. Forty minutes after the original thought and I'm finally pouring bitter lemon into a glass over gin and ice, Milla having fallen asleep again. I take my drink and go and park myself in front of the TV, all ready to catch the documentary on Vlad Tepes that I want to watch on the History Chanel, even though I'm of course anticipating that I'm going to have to pause it to attend to Milla at some point over the ninety minutes. I talked Eric into getting TiVo, simply because I'd miss my documentary fix and he didn't even have a television before mine was moved in here. It turns out I'm disturbed my something much more welcome to my ears first though, the sound of my husband arriving home.
"Get ready to be happy," he greets me with, taking off his leather jacket and hanging it up before moving at speed to my side.
"We can move back in tonight, the house is finished two months ahead of schedule?" I joke, watching him smile and shake his head at my comic hopefulness.
"Well, ready ahead of schedule it will be, since Jake just told me he estimates the completion date to be just six weeks from now. He's hired an extra five vampire construction workers, and they're definitely earning their salaries. They'd erected five interior walls in the time I was shown around by Jake. It's really progressing nicely. The first half of the house is now all done, they're just working on the cellar and the part that stretches up the side of the lake at present," he tells me, smiling widely when he sees the excitement spreading to my face. We're newlyweds who've been put under great duress since we married, and we need to take the small moments of happiness and enjoy them all we can. This is what we should solely be doing, enjoying being a married couple, and not having to worry about Japanese kings with makers who are pure evil or orphan Wolverina babies. Life sadly can't be how you plan it though.
"That's fantastic news, it really is. Not that I don't enjoy living here at the club, but it'll be so nice just to get moved back in and settled. Well, after I've undertaken the mammoth job of decorating the whole place. I'm looking forward to that though," I tell him, watching him frown a little.
"Are you sure you still want to undertake such a task yourself? A decorating team would get it done a lot quicker, as I've suggested before," he replies.
"Oh I'll have a team! I've roped in all my friends, Anna, Dmitri, Lafayette, Jesus, Cobie, Esmeralda, Sookie and even Pam and Fabien both agreed to help. I'd like to have them all there on the same day, but with work and the like I might have to have them come in shifts," I tell him, smiling at my own words there. I didn't have a lot of friends a year ago, I let work rule my life too much and only really had Anna and Dmitri. I'm pleased my social circle is beginning to widen.
"Then I shall bother you no more about decorators. Just make sure it's my credit card you take with you to buy everything you need. I mean it; my finances are now yours too. Actually, I'm just going to change my banking details, have a joint account for us and I'll have my credit card company issue you with another card. You spent a fortune on our vacation, and I have more money than I'll ever know what to do with, so I want you to spend some for me, make our home as beautiful as you are, even though I'm not entirely sure that's possible," he replies, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close.
"Are you sure? I feel bad, spending money you've earned. You know how proud I am of my financial independence too," I reply, kissing the side of his neck.
"Of course I am, and also as a married woman, you're no longer financially independent. I do respect your work ethic though, and that pride you take. Don't worry, I'm not about to suggest you give it all up and become a kept woman. I know you'd never be happy with that, but I just want to share everything I have with you, and that means my money. You're more deserving of it than any other woman I've been even remotely linked with, because that is what most of them wanted, my cash," he tells me, something I am of course aware of.
"Can I show you how thankful I am over that? In a way you'd definitely enjoy?" I ask him, watching a knowing smile spread across his face when I move to sit astride him, beginning to stroke his chest.
"You most certainly may, but quietly in case we wake up the little ball of loud in the corner." He replies, using what I think is going to become Milla's pet name while we look after her, a little ball of loud. Our couch sex is quick, quiet and extremely hot, both ravenous for each other since I haven't felt well enough for engaging in bedroom activities while I've been ill, and I happily collapse back with Eric on top of me half an hour after we begun, catching my breath as my body trembles with post orgasmic shudders. As it turns out though, our sex life is the first thing to suffer because of Milla. The marathon sessions that last for hours can no longer last that long, we soon find out after a further week.
"You've been fed, you're dry, I do not understand the reason for all this squealing, Milla. I truly don't," Eric tells her, moving from within me to the side of her crib to pick her up and cradle her to his chest.
"I think you've answered your own question there, she just wanted you," I tell him, Milla's cries now beginning to quieten. He doesn't look very impressed by that. She's been here for nine days so far, and to be truthful even taking into consideration his current facial expression, Eric is warming to her a hell of a lot quicker than I am. This surprises me greatly, since he's a vampire of nearly one thousand, one hundred years old, with a very low tolerance for things which irritate him. Milla definitely irritates him, but he's being very good with her so far. He's taken to this task like a duck to water, which does make me feel like I'm the one lacking and lagging behind in my attitude towards her.
"I think it's because he used to be a father and husband when he was a human. It's the protector in him coming back out again after all these years. He isn't happy about having her here, but the protector in him is coming out regardless," Pam tells me the evening after as I sit in the office working, Milla sitting in her bassinet by my side, gurgling contently. Eric is talking with Fabien downstairs over the latter's research into Quentin Rothman, as well as the king himself, which is ongoing fact finding.
"I think so too. I feel guilty, you know, that I don't feel anything toward her, not even a protective streak," I reply, adding up a few figures and entering them in the last spreadsheet cell. That's the books for Fangtasia done for this week.
"Why should you? She isn't your child so try not to beat yourself up over that," she replies, looking over at Milla with distaste.
"I know, but even though Eric still obviously isn't happy about her being in our care, he's still warming to her more than I am," I let her know, turning to look at Milla as well. She's fallen asleep, but I don't expect it to last.
"I still say don't blame or be hard on yourself. Eric loved children once upon a time, he had enough of his own as a human, so it's something he's experienced before. You've never had a maternal streak in you, never wanted children at all so really, I think you're being hard on yourself, expecting to feel something you know you won't and then getting a guilt trip. You don't have to bond with her, Tyra. Just look after her. All she is, she's just a duty. Her grandparents love her, you don't have to." Pam replies before excusing herself to go and make sure we're ready to open up. I think I'm knocking on the wrong door in asking Pam for advice on this, since she's never had a maternal bone in her body either, but I know there's one woman who might be able to let me know if I'm behaving correctly with regards to Milla, and that's my mother. After all, she adopted me and the love she now feels for me can't have grown overnight, even though of course she and my dad chose me as their daughter, and I didn't choose that Milla came into my life. Either way, she's my best bet.
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Eric's POV
"I just can't believe it, you, with a baby to look after, oh that's hysterical!" A highly amused Fabien says as we sit opposite each other on the couches, laughing with mirth so much his fangs pop. I'm glad he thinks it's so fucking funny, because I still don't.
"Equally as much as the fact I can't believe you've shown up here with absolutely nothing further on the king, the death of Sophie Anne, or anything regarding Quentin Rothman other than positives either!" I fume in reply, narrowing my eyes at him.
"I can't help it, Eric. I can't find things that so far aren't there. The man is absolutely golden on paper. He's worked for the king for several years and was the first choice to be placed here to be his representative, and by all accounts every single vampire he's come in contact with all paint him as decent. I know there's something under the surface though, just as well as you do, some deviousness there. I just have to scratch that surface a little deeper. Where's the wife?" he replies and then asks. If I was capable of suffering a headache, I think I'd have one right now. Fabien can usually find any information I want him to procure for me. The fact that in this case, an issue so important and he can't, is pissing me off to the root of my fangs and back.
"I assume there's a way you can remotely bug Quentin's cell phone? As for Tyra, she's in the office working," I say, watching him nod slowly.
"Bung me around two hundred and fifty dollars and I'll download the software to do so. I can have him bugged in about ten minutes. The best thing is that you can then tap into it remotely with another cell and activate his phone's microphone, meaning you can listen in on his face to face conversations even if the phone is on standby or in his pocket. It'll mean carrying that cell around with you constantly, which like your existing one I'll make untraceable, to listen to his calls," he replies.
"I'm aware of the practice of listening in on a bugged line, that's fine. Get it done, go up to the office and pay for the software on this," I say, retrieving my wallet and taking my credit card out to pass to him. Just as he's leaving, Tyra enters, carrying a screaming Milla in with her too.
"She needs to be fed, but I just don't have time, I have to race to finish the accounts so I'm ready to take them back to my clients in the morning. Would you mind?" she asks me, passing Milla to me before I've even chance to answer.
"No, I don't mind. You go back to your work." I tell her with the kind of lack lustre enthusiasm she doesn't even pick up on before she's marching for the door again. She does this a lot, finds reasons not to do her share of taking care of this baby, and so thus it's left to me. I won't say anything for now, I know she's having trouble adjusting to this, getting used to having a baby to be responsible for, but if she thinks I find it easy she's sadly mistaken. Okay so yes I have been here before, being a father as a human, but it doesn't make it any easier for me to cope. I hate having to pacify a screaming baby, I absolutely loathe it, but like I've said before I'm not about to take that out on Milla, or ignore her either.
I'm sure Tyra will find her stride eventually. She doesn't all out hate children, she just doesn't want them herself. If she says anything different then she's lying, as I've witnessed her blowing raspberries on the tummy of her friend Anna's daughter, Myra, and laughing when the child inevitably giggles. Whether Milla will eventually receive the same treatment from either of us remains to be seen. I do feel protective over this tiny little Wolverina I'm currently feeding a bottle to, her energy feeding into me as it always does when I hold her, but I don't feel any kind of affection.
"Well, as I don't live or breathe, since I'm dead, I never thought I'd encounter that, you feeding a baby. Here, Rothman's phone is bugged and this is your intercepting device. Sorry about the colour, that's all they had left," Fabien tells me after striding in, handing me a small, bright yellow cell before he sits down on the opposite couch in the same space as before, looking on at me curiously. "That's so weird, it's like watching a dog ride a bike." He then adds, pointing at Milla.
"I can't very well let her starve now, can I?" I say, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, I'm not suggesting you do. Seeing you personally feeding her though, well it's odd as I'm sure you can see," he replies, again pointing at me and then laughing quietly.
"I do. Here I am, the oldest and most deadly vampire in the entire USA, and I'm sitting here with a five week old baby in my arms, feeding her and also about to be given a shower and then dressed and put to bed by me as well. I want to go and kill something so I feel like myself again, because this, this is not me," I tell him, watching him nod.
"Erm, how can you put a baby that small in the shower? What, do you lie her on the floor or something?" he asks, looking slightly incredulous.
"No, you fool. I just get in and hold her to my chest, simple. Bathing her is loud, she screams like a banshee so I'd rather make sure she's clean quietly. Agnes better hurry the fuck up in catching whoever killed her mother, the people who then snatched her. I'm playing waiting games, Fabien, from both sides. Both sides which I still can't say for certain are connected, but it seems the only plausible way," I inform him, of course referencing my two most pressing matters, the king, the child and all that surrounds them.
"Did you ever consider the fact Russell Edgington might have left an 'open upon the event of my true death' letter containing information the Wolverina uprising, and that it's in the hands of another vampire…," Fabien replies when he sees the look on my face and realises exactly what he's saying.
"Another vampire like San Lu, because I wouldn't put it past Edgington to try and fuck me over from beyond the true death. It's a very Russell thing to do," I say, watching as Fabien looks mildly embarrassed at his words.
"You know, I never thought of that. I was thinking more about the kid when I spoke, until it clicked in my head that Russell would know the king of Tokyo could be a big, big threat to Tyra should he be informed and then cross an ocean, well Tyra and the baby now as well," he replies.
"So bearing that in mind, you have work to continue with. I appreciate your efforts so far." I tell him, dismissing him with a nod. He leaves at high speed and with that I finish having milk regurgitated all over my bare shoulder (I just don't bother wearing a shirt to feed her any longer, or putting a towel over my shoulder since she always misses it) before going to get in a warm shower to wash her. I'd have thought being pelted by water would have made her cry, but oh no three inches of water in our large tub managed it. She hated every second of it, and Tyra came away slightly deaf in her right ear afterwards. That's about the biggest task she's undertaken, giving her a bath. At least Ginger takes her out in her stroller, Tyra hasn't so far. She'll get there though. I'm not asking her to enjoy it, just participate more than she is.
"There, clean, dry, fed, now go to sleep. No, no, don't pull that face. Oh…fuck it," I say around twenty minutes later, both Milla and I dried and redressed in fresh clothes, and her not liking the fact I've just put her down. She's crying again, but I have to leave her to. The reason she's tearful is because I put her down, and she doesn't like it, she wants me to hold her some more. I don't find it hard to, there's no heartstrings being pulled. It's just loud and annoying, so I go upstairs and decide to cheer myself up.
"Come on, you need a break. Let me get you a drink out front," I tell Tyra after entering the office.
"What good timing, I just finished a spreadsheet. I've only two more companies left to do now, so yes I'll happily allow you to provide me with a much needed drink. I'll have a glass of red, please," she says, closing the file she's just finished working on and getting up. Even in a simple khaki green cotton dress that almost covers her feet, belted at the waist with a very thick brown leather belt and not a scrap of makeup on her face, she looks radiant. The club even though open doesn't have anyone here at present, so I stand over at the bar with Tyra while she perches on a high stool, half listening to the conversation between me, Deborah and my wife, and half tuning in to down in my apartment.
Milla is still crying, but it's getting quieter, she's starting to tire herself. It's fading, fading, now just disgruntled gurgles, now sleepy ones, and she's out. Life is normal again. Until, that is, she wakes up again in three to three and a half hours. She'll awake hungry and crying, and I've decided tonight Tyra can deal with it for once. Well, I make it sound like she's never got up to feed her at night and it's been all me rushing back down here to do so, but it isn't. She has gotten up to her a few times in the last four days since she's been well enough to look after her. Tonight though, I won't be as quick to do it first. I want to prompt her to do a little more without actually having to tell her in as many words. I don't enjoy ordering her around. I know I have had a tendency to do so in the past, mainly where her safety is concerned. This is why I shall not be a husband who barks orders at his wife. Not that she'd take that crap from me anyway.
Speaking of which, about ten minutes after Tyra and I have been talking I get a call on the cell linked to Quentin Rothmans. Tuning my ears into it over the music filling the club, I find it's just a mundane phone call from a cleaning company who have steam cleaned some rugs and curtains for the king's Louisiana residence, and so hang up immediately. I can sense I might get a lot of calls such as this one, if Quentin is a general dogsbody as well as a representative of the king as well. This could take considerable time, and many a spied on phone call to actually hear anything of use. Just before midnight though, while Tyra is over talking to Mai Ling about shoes I'd guess, since the latter has one in her hand she's pointing at, I strike lucky.
"He's suspicious of me already, of course he is. You though, well he doesn't know your face. Get close to one of the barmaids or the dancers. I think the cute little Japanese girl is off limits though. Mailloux got quite agitated when I made somewhat of a fumbled pass at her, so I wouldn't bother there. Preferably I'd like you to attend the club a couple of times first though, and look out for any of the staff who appear to be close to Mrs Northman, and go for said person. If we have a link to a friend of hers, we have a link to her to keep an eye on her, which as you know we must do. She has to be watched at all times, we have to look out for it, the first instance, the first moment of anything that could present a chance to act on good reason. Look, I have to go. My dinner just arrived. Call me when you've made contact with a member of staff, Elliot."
Anything to present a chance to act on good reason, is it, Quentin? A plot to snatch my wife for your master's master, perhaps, but yet they just did not confirm that in as many words, so truly I don't know. They sounded on the verge of possibly concerned when overheard before. Now, I'm not sure. Nothing sounds sinister, but then again it could be. This is all so baffling to me, this charade, this ruse, this...whatever the fuck it is. Why are they concerned for her, if they truly are? They barely know either of us. No, no this is them making it appear to other people that they're concerned, case in point Rothman's phone call to whomever this 'Elliot' is, but then that doesn't explain the private conversation Tyra overheard at the party. Whatever the truth is in this situation, I feel it will take me a lot longer than envisaged to uncover.