AN: Hello, FF and Harry Potter fans. I do not own Harry Potter but feel free to enjoy this or hate it. If you enjoy it, please leave a lovely comment, if you hate it, then leave some constructive criticism, thanks!

Can You Take the Jump?

Chapter 63

Lily was sweating as she carried what little belongings she had, up the stairs. It was sweltering. Buildings in England were built to retain heat, not release it. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead and into her eye.

"Ah!" She cried as the stinging pain made her stumble.

"Lily?" A voice called from the top of the stairs. "Oh shit!" Sirius ran down the stairs, stabilizing her before she fell. He took her suitcases out of her hands and helped her up the stairs.

Lily rubbed her eyes before looking up to say thanks.

"You should have just called me when you arrived," he told her, taking two steps at a time. His long wavy black hair was tied up away from his neck, he wore no shirt and a pair of shorts.

She blushed, looking away from his naked torso. It was odd, she'd seen him shirtless before when they had gone to the beach or swimming in by the pond in James's estate but seeing him so casually shirtless without the pretense of a water-filled fun excursion made her feel slightly embarrassed. She had to get used to it now, they were roommates.

Unaware of her blushing face, Sirius opened the doors to a large flat. It was spacious, especially for a flat in the heart of Diagonalley. It had four bedrooms, an office that was used as a library, 3 lavatories, a spacious kitchen and dining room, and the living space was a pitted living room. Affording to live in a spacious flat like this in a prime location was practically unimaginable for a girl from a middle-class family like herself, but of course, wealth, especially generational wealth, could make unimaginable things possible.

"Welcome to the most epic flat of all, Sirius Black and Lily's Evans's Gryffindor pad! It'll be like Gryffindor Tower all over again!"

Alphard Black's dark and classy flat was redecorated with loads of Gryffindor paraphernalia, some of which Lily had no idea where Sirius had gotten. In particular, Lily would later feel a certain level of shock at the Gryffindor lion-embossed toilet paper in the toilets.

Sirius wiggled his brows, waiting for a certain reaction from her.

She smiled at him, "I can't wait!"

When school ended, Lily was faced with the reality that she no longer had a home to return to. A summer without Hermione, her family, her parents, or her home. She had nowhere to go.

James had offered her a room at his place in a heartbeat. He was so sweet, it still made her smile remembering his bumbling words and blushing face, but she wasn't entirely sure how to feel about living with her boyfriend within months of dating him. She knew James hadn't meant anything inappropriate by his offer, he was a gentleman through and through. However, her time at Hogwarts made her realize something: she was being too dependent on him lately. After the fire, James hadn't left her alone for a mere second and at school, they had also been attached at the hip. Classes, meals, extracurricular time, and even nights. On the first night back, she couldn't sleep in fear of nightmares. She had walked into the common room, and coincidentally James walked down to the common room only 5 minutes later. They slept on the couches together, holding each other's hands. It had become a routine.

On the rare occasions that she was left alone, Lily found herself feeling weak, afraid, and incompetent. She jumped at every shadow, she avoided the dark, she steered clear of fireplaces, and she didn't talk to anyone whom she had no prior interactions with. This new behaviour scared her, it wasn't who she was, it wasn't who she wanted to be. Her level of dependency on James scared her. Her inability to be alone scared her. She had to remember who she used to be before everything that happened, alone, but limited her which left her with only one remaining option.

Sirius showed her the room where she would rent from him. It was nice and clean with large windows on two sides of the room that overlooked the shopping alley below. The opposite side had ceiling-to-floor bookshelves that were mostly empty, minus a few medical books, and the last wall had a moderate-sized closet and a bed. It was a spacious room, something she would normally never be able to afford with her minimum salary at Leaky Cauldron. Sirius had offered her the room for free, but she had blatantly and stubbornly refused.

Her insistence on paying for her room, however, came with consequences. She couldn't do her unpaid summer internship at the Committee of Experimental Charms.

"Apparently, this was Hermione's room," Sirius cut her thoughts off. "Her little elf told me when he let me in."

"Pinky?" Lily perked up at the sound of Hermione's elf. "Has he heard anything from Hermione?"

Sirius shook his head, "He's had no contact either, but he promised to let me know."

There was a sudden shift in Sirius's energy at the mention of her sister.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's only natural you'd want to know."

"Right," she gave him a small pained smile. She looked around the room with more appreciation. Now that she looked closely, her room in the Room of Requirement had a similar layout to the flat, minus the extra rooms. "Well, the bookshelves certainly scream Hermione."

Sirius snorted in agreement, "You should see the office, it's even more her style." He pointed to the remaining books on the shelves, "Those are her books from when she was here, or what's left of them. Not really what you'd imagine a child's choice of books would be."

Lily glanced at the thick textbooks regarding medicine, magical healing, pediatrics, etc. Hermione also had books like these in their home, filling up the shelves of her room, of the basement, of her closet, of whatever space was available.

Sirius excused himself, letting her get settled in her new room, in her new home.

Lily glanced at her school messenger bag and her trunk. After the fire, she was able to fit her entire life in just these two bags. An unimaginable feat in the past. The room she shared with Petunia in Cokesworth had large posters of bands she enjoyed, bands she was introduced to by Hermione or Petunia. Her closet that had contained all her cute clothes and some that she'd secretly taken from her sisters. All her pictures and yearbooks, all her stuffed animals, everything.

She glanced at her sad and pathetic little trunk that contained all her belongings, the ones that survived because she had left them in Hogwarts instead of taking them back home for the holidays. They wouldn't even fill a quarter of this spacious room.

Suddenly, she wished Sirius had given her the office instead, something much less spacious so that she wouldn't feel so…empty.

She started pulling out her belongings from her messenger school bag. A picture of her family, one that even included Hermione looking bored in the back. It was a recent photo, the one they'd taken the last time they went to the beach house during the summer as a whole family. That time felt so far away. She touched her parents' faces.

"I'm going to be just fine, Mum and Dad. Don't worry about me."

The next thing she pulled out was the letter that had given her hope, a letter from the Committee of Experimental Charms. After demanding she'd pay for her stay, Lily had sent a letter to notify the Committee that they would need to find her replacement. Mr. Siegfried Blane replied with a letter that explained how the whole team tried to negotiate her return by lowering their own wages so that she could have a position on the Committee, but it was not successful as the rules did not allow part-time or full-time positions to students. But he assured her that he promised to ensure her a place in the department as soon as she graduated from Hogwarts next year. The letter ended with good wishes from everyone and how sad they all were that they wouldn't be able to work with her this summer and was always welcome to drop in any time she wished.

Lily held the letter close to her heart, she wasn't ashamed to say that it had made her cry when she first read it. The thought of having to give up her dreams because of the awful events that occurred months ago had made her depressed, as it felt like yet another thing she had lost, but when she read this letter, it had given her hope. She pasted it onto the wall next to her bed as a reminder that all wasn't lost.

She sat on the bed and let out a big sigh, looking around the strange and unfamiliarly large room.

"Sirius!"

"Yeah?" He poked his head into her room almost immediately. He must've been waiting by her door.

"Let's go shopping."

…

"What is your plan?"

The girl slipped a card below the door of one of the girls and then quickly moved on to the next.

"Child, I'm talking to you."

"Hm," she glanced down at his feet. "You walk weirdly. Is it a vampire thing, or a you thing? You're sort of gliding. I haven't met a lot of vampires in my time since most of you are very recluse and go for muggle victims since they don't have magic to protect themselves."

"Stop ignoring my questions!"

"Then stop being so impatient. I told you that you'll understand, didn't I? So wait."

He was left speechless at her glare. He felt an unbelievable pressure against his chest. Normal people didn't command such obedience, normal people's words were simple words, but this girl was far different. Her voice was like the Imperio Curse itself. He found himself following the girl around 4 more buildings without making another peep. The buildings she visited were poor and rundown, even by Knockturn Alley standards.

When they walked out of the final building, he thought she would finally stop and explain what was going on, but instead, she walked into the pub she frequently worked and sat down at the center table as if she owned the place. The pub was still empty as it was still morning and the table, he'd broken on their first meeting still hadn't been replaced.

"So, Mr. Vampire," she gestured for him to sit across from her. "This is where your end of the bargain will start."

"You were very unspecific when you told me my end of the bargain."

"Yet you said yes anyway."

He narrowed his eyes, but she was right. He had said yes without hesitation once he tasted her blood. As she mentioned, vampires lose their magic once they become vampires, even if they had magic as humans before. The only way for a vampire to regain their magic, albeit temporarily, would be to drink the blood of someone who still had magic. However, most vampires still opted to hunt for muggles as they were more accessible, easier prey, there were no laws regarding vampire attacks that protected muggles, and the blood they consumed only gave them a minuscule fraction of magical abilities. An average witch or wizard's blood would only give a vampire enough magic to stir a spoon in a cup of tea for 10 minutes. If a vampire wanted more, they'd have to drink all the blood in one sitting, but vampires who committed such crimes were hunted down fiercely by the government.

However, the girl in front of him couldn't be more different. Her blood…he hadn't felt that magical in decades, even though he'd only tasted a sliver. This girl oozed magic most phenomenally.

"You don't understand what your blood is. I'm surprised you haven't been attacked by more vampires in your life."

"I lived a relatively secluded life, so it's not too shocking to me," she shrugged. She straightened up on her stool and placed her hands on the table, looking like she meant business. "As you might have noticed while we were walking around the buildings, I invited several people here before the pub opens. Soon, a few, maybe just a handful, or maybe just one of them will walk in. I will propose a deal for them and if they accept you will provide them with protection."

"Protection?"

"The people I've invited are working girls and men."

"You mean whores."

"Sex workers, yes. They often deal with aggressive and dominating clients who push them beyond their consent. You and I are going to provide them with protection."

Now he understood why she only went to the bad buildings. "What you speak of is inevitable. It's… an occupational hazard, so to speak."

"And I'm telling you that I'm going to protect them from this occupational hazard, Mr. Vampire. Using you."

"How?"

"I will give the people who come in these," she pulled bracelets from her bag, "and you will wear this." She threw a black bracelet at him. "They will act as a discrete form of communication between you and our clients. When one of our working individuals taps the bracelet twice, like this," she demonstrated on the pink bracelet she was holding. He felt his own black bracelet vibrate quickly twice. "That will mean be on standby, but when they tap three times, like this," she tapped the bracelet three times rapidly. This time his bracelet burned red hot.

"Ah!" he dropped his black bracelet in surprise, except it wasn't black anymore, it was the same shade of pink as the one she held.

"That means, help me, now. You will go to the client who has the pink bracelet."

He stared at the bracelets with wonder. It was simple yet brilliant.

"What if two of them go off at the same time? How will I which one to go to?"

"These bracelets also detect vital signs. They'll measure heart rate, hormones, oxygen levels, etc."

"Things that indicate fear in the body."

Hermione nodded. "The ones who are more afraid will be the ones in more danger, presumably. Their bracelet will light up more frequently for you."

"But it's not a perfect plan. There could be a lot of variabilities, they might not know they're in danger, and they might not express fear properly after years of living in a high-crime neighbourhood.

"Exactly. I will also have a black bracelet, so the burden isn't only on your shoulders. You know this neighbourhood and those who are notorious for being bad customers. That is how we make the judgement."

"How will we know who they're with? Whores are notoriously well-known to keep their client list private."

"Sex workers. And they will have to hunt for clients here."

"They're not going to okay that."

"They will."

"Your confidence is inspiring."

"My confidence doesn't stem from nowhere." She tutted. "This," she shook the bracelets, "is only part of my big plan."

"Big plan?"

"I'm going to change this pub."

"What?"

"In two short weeks, this pub is going to become the best illegal underground nightclub in all of Wizarding England. Whatever people want or need will be here. Whatever they're looking for, we will provide it, only here. That means very rich and very bad people will flock to this place. If our workers want good clientele, the type that will have the money to be worth their time, their body, their energy, and the risk to their safety, they will be here, which means they will need you."

"Old man Philip will never agree to change his pub like that."

"Don't worry about that pervert," Hermione shook her head. "He'll be dealt with."

"Do you know how to run a business? A nightclub?"

She gave him a big smile, "Nope! But I know who does."

"Who?"

"Mrs. Philip Biren."

"His wife?"

She nodded, "I did some digging and found out that she used to run a successful brothel, at least until she got hitched and had triplets."

He felt quite speechless. He let out a few scoffing laughs. "Assuming you somehow get Philip to give the rights to this pub to his wife, how do you know she'll say yes?"

"This pub is dying because of Philip's terrible management. It's a great location, it's spacious, and it even has a built-in stage for performances that no one uses. It's comparable to the Leaky Cauldron on the opposite side of the street, but all the potential is being wasted."

He let out a laugh at how ridiculously meticulous she was. She did have a plan for everything. As he continued to laugh the doors creaked open and three tentative girls walked in.

"H-hello?"

"Girls," the girl stood up and smiled, waving them in. "Come and sit, we've got much to discuss."

"Angel," one of the girls lifted the card that Hermione had slid through their doors. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It's exactly as it sounds, Rain. I'll explain it all to you."

The three girls looked around nervously and cautiously while sitting down far away from each other at different ends of the pub.

"We are going to provide a protection service for you and any other girls who desire it while you work."

"What?!" Maple laughed. "You're going to give us protection? Angel, you can barely cast a reparo, let alone an offensive spell."

Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at the table the vampire had broken, "Bombarda." The girls screamed as the table exploded into a thousand tiny pieces.

"Angel! What the fuck!"

"Reparo." The table jumped from the floor, as if going back in time, and repaired itself perfectly. The girls watched with their jaws dropped.

"Any other concerns?"

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"Never mind that. I'm not going to take any of the money you earn as payment for the protection that Mr. Vampire and I provide."

"What?!" Both he and the girls exclaimed.

"I've arranged a separate payment for Mr. Vampire, so you girls don't need to worry about paying him. Your payment to me will be information. The men you meet will tell you things, ridiculous things, scary things, powerful things, political, social, blood purist-type things." The girls looked at each other, nodding. Pillow talk often included many secretive things that tumbled out of men after being thoroughly satiated. "You will tell me all of it. You will leave nothing out. As long as you do that, I promise no asshole will ever hurt you again."

…

The girls left one by one, holding a colourful bracelet in their hands, leaving behind Hermione and the vampire once more.

"You want information? You're doing all this, impersonating another person, living in the slums, and working as a prostitute for some information?"

"Information is a powerful resource. For example, I know what your name is."

He froze. It was an understandable reaction seeing how he never told her his name. The exchange of names was rare and unheard of for vampires, especially for vampires as old as the one before her. Names were a human connection, something that felt faint and distant once life stretched for so long. Vampires were also solitary creatures, unlike werewolves, so friends weren't something they made and families weren't something they had. Human life was too short for immortal vampires, so building a relationship that required the exchange of names wasn't something they did often. It was how Hermione knew Jordan Walsh was special to him. It was so easy to read her mind, Hermione didn't even have to try. The minute Jordan mentioned vampire saliva, his face and name were clearly readable.

"You lie." He shook his head. "Jordan wouldn't—"

"She didn't. I am a legilimens." She reassured. "Do you see now, Mr. Laisren Bryne, how knowledge can be power?"

"What exactly are you trying to achieve here?"

She shook her head, yet another thing she refuses to tell him. "You will protect those three girls and give me a vial of your saliva every night. In return, I will give you," lifted an empty vial and made a slit in a visible vein. Her red ichor flowed into the vial. Her scent radiated through the room. It smelled like a full roast with all the greatest side dishes for a starving man.

His mouth salivated in a manner it never had before.

"I'll give you this." She healed her cut and held the vial to him.

He stared at the cut on her arm. Even with the wound healed, the urge was unbelievable, even for an experienced vampire like himself. He forced his eyes shut and tried to calm his bloodlust.

"Our deal will continue until I've decided I've collected enough information. Upon that time, I will leave after telling you where Miss Walsh is and I will give you the secret of tasting my blood forever."

He didn't hear anything as he grabbed the vial from her hands and gulped down the blood with absolute vigour.

"I'll take that as a yes."

…

Knock knock

A piercing wail of an infant, no, infants, rang through the door.

"For the love of motherfucking—who the hell is it?"

The door swung open violently to reveal a woman in her mid to late thirties holding two babies in her arms and a baby strapped to her back.

"Hello."

Mrs. Biren, Philip Biren's wife, but also more well-known as Madame Virtue, was a voluptuous woman. Even before having three children at once, she had breasts that men could drown in and had the ability to shake her ass in a way that men and some women appreciated.

As far as Hermione's research could tell, she made good money, but for some reason, she gave it all up when she was pregnant with those screaming little gnomes in her arms. Perhaps there was more to the story, but Hermione had neither the time nor the interest at the moment.

"I've always known you were an idiot, but to think you'd have the fucking gall to come here."

"May I come in?"

"May you co—" she sputtered, then she laughed, shaking the children in her arms as she did so. "In what world does a woman let her husband's mistress into her fucking house?"

"The one that's tired, hasn't slept properly in weeks, washed her hair, or had a fucking minute to herself?"

Hermione glanced down at the three babies wiggling in her arms, still screaming their heads off. She reached out and gently took one of the babies from her arms and rocked them soothingly back and forth as she used to for Rose and Hugo. They were both fussy babies, who never liked being put down. Ron used to profusely apologize, telling her it was probably the Weasley in them that gave her a hard time. To say she didn't care and loved them through every moment of it would be a terrible lie. She didn't have a beautiful motherhood or a natural one. She struggled through every stage of her children's short lives.

She loved them though.

Slowly, but surely, the baby in Hermione's arms calmed down, his screams turning into cries, which turned into small whines, then mere hiccups.

"How did you do that?" The woman watched with awe.

"I can show you," she offered with a quiet smile. "But only if you let me in."

Mrs. Biren glanced at her two other crying babies and then at the quiet one in the other woman's arms. While she hated the redhead in front of her, she hated the sounds of her babies crying even more.

She moved aside from the door, allowing the woman into her home. She wasted no time as she walked up the stairs and into her children's room.

"Oi!" She chased the girl up the stairs, "You can't just walk in like that!"

She opened the doors to her children's bedroom, looking around with disapproval written on her face.

"Have you tried letting them sleep together?"

"What?"

"Have you tried letting the triplets sleep together?"

"Why would I do that? If one of them wakes up, then the others will wake too!"

"If one of them wakes up, the others are waking regardless, it's not as if the cribs are soundproofed. They can hear each other whether they're put in different cribs or not."

"Why does it matter?"

"They're triplets, they've never been apart, even in the womb. Suddenly, they're out and now they have to be alone? It would be cold, lonely, and jarring for anyone."

Hermione dragged the three cribs together and pulled out her wand.

"Wait—!"

With a flick of her wand and a trick of transfiguration and charms, she morphed the cribs together creating one large crib that would comfortably fit all three babies in at once.

Mrs. Biren gasped. It wasn't just the magic, but the upgrade in the quality of the crib. She'd never seen any resident in Knockturn Alley produce magic of this quality before.

She placed the baby in her arms down gently, leaning down with him, keeping her body as close to him for as long as possible until he was gently placed into the crib. This was the moment of truth to test her abilities.

"Mmgh" Elias crinkled his face as if he was about to cry.

She patted his stomach, rubbing warm circles, "Shhh, don't worry, your brother and sister are going to join you soon."

With her other arm, she waved her over for the next baby. Her other two children had calmed in her own arms. She still didn't believe her, but if this solved her problem, she might be able to get a full night's rest, or at least enough to function like a somewhat normal adult.

She passed her her daughter next. With the same technique, she gently placed her daughter down like she was the most precious treasure in the world. Almost instantaneously, the two turned to each other, seeking each other in their sleep.

"Why don't you try with the last one on your back?" She gave her an encouraging nod.

Hesitantly and unsure, she started rocking her last child in her arms just like the redhead had. Pride be damned, hatred be damned, none of it mattered when the prospect of sleep was so close.

"Good," she encouraged, speaking as though she knew what she was doing. "Now gently," she instructed, copying the technique with her own body even though there was no baby in her arms.

"Go lower," she told her in a soft and gentle voice. "Exactly." She nodded.

Ever so carefully, she placed her last baby into the crib with her other children.

"Don't retract your arm too quickly," she warned when the baby's back was finally touching the bedding of the crib. "Don't walk away immediately. Watch them for any discomforts, make sure they're not going to accidentally scratch each other in their sleep, and things like that. Good. Give them belly rubs and other motherly touches."

"Motherly touches?"

"Shhh, yes. Stroke their head, hold their tiny hands, feel their heartbeats, those kinds of things."

She followed her instructions and stroked their soft and tiny heads, more hair had grown from their bald heads. When did that happen? Their grips had gotten stronger, and so had their heartbeats. She turned to the girl with amazement, only to see the look of adoration in her eyes. As far as she knew, Angel was a whore who'd never had a child or been pregnant. Where had she learned all this?

She gasped, "Are you pregnant with my husband's child?!"

Wahhhhh! The three babies screamed at the sudden noise.

"What have you done? Now we have to start all over again!" Hermione reached down to comfort the crying babies when she was suddenly wrenched out of the way.

"Don't you dare fucking touch my children, you fucking whore!"

Hermione let out a sigh, a part of her wanted to walk out, letting this woman deal with her post-partum misery all on her own, but she needed her. She needed her expertise, and if she was too busy juggling three babies on her own, there was no way she would accept her business proposal.

"I'm not pregnant with Philip's child or anyone's for that matter. I have no interest in raising children."

"Lies. No one who has no interest in raising children knows how to do that."

"It doesn't matter why or how I know how to do this, what matters is that I can, and I'm not pregnant, no?"

"You weren't this well-spoken the last time I saw you."

"Do you come to see me a lot when I work?"

"Of…of course not!"

She did. A lot.

"In the last times you've come to see me work, have I ever made an advance on Philip? Have I ever accepted an advance from Philip?"

"That doesn't mean you're not pregnant."

"You can do a pregnancy test with me if you'd like me to prove it to you, and if you still don't believe me after you've seen the negative results on the test, you can wait a few weeks and punch me in the gut repeatedly just to make sure."

She took a step back and let out a small gasp at the nonchalant way she just proposed such a violent solution to a simple problem.

"I'm sure you've wanted to hit me plenty of times before. I could say that I had no choice, that it was due to circumstances, I'm sure it doesn't make up for the hatred you've built up in your mind and your heart. Unlike what Elie Wiesel said, I don't believe that the opposite of love is indifference. It's hate. A deep burning hate, a hate that burns as deeply as love does. We could skip the pregnancy test and you can just hit me now if you'd like. I'll take it."

"I—I don't…" she took a step back when Hermione stepped forward. "I don't want to… what if you are pregnant?!"

"I'm not, but you should hit me beside the fact."

"No! It's fine, I…believe you."

Hermione took a step back, she approached the triples in their crib once more. "Shh, don't worry, your mum's just a bit stressed is all. Half of the reason is because of you three, you know? She was quite a successful entrepreneur before she had you guys. She gave it all up for you."

"Is that why you're here? You want me to help you start a brothel?"

She raised her brow at her perceptiveness. "Correct, not exactly a brothel, a club, but close enough. Although I don't know why I was surprised, I've been told sex workers are very perceptive in this regard."

"I can't."

"Even if I help you with the children? Even if I get your husband to give up the pub to you? Even if I ensure that you make enough money to get out of here with your three children? Even if that means a chance at a new beginning?"

The woman's eyes grew wide with a hunger for a different life. Hermione knew and understood that look well.

There were very few people in this world that could deny such a proposal. Luckily for Hermione, Mrs. Biren was not one of them.

"What do you need me to do?"

…

Two weeks later…

Rabastan Lestrange placed his glass down on the counter, knocking his knuckles on the wood twice. The bartender filled his glass with the finest bottle of Firewhiskey the establishment had. Of course, it had nothing on the personal collection his family had obtained over the years, but for a club? Especially in Knockturn Alley? He was more than impressed. The whole establishment was completely unrecognizable from the previous times he'd been. Lights flashed, music boomed, and the decor was classy, holding ambience and mystery. Gorgeous, sultry, and expensive-looking women and men walked around with flirtatious smiles for all types of attraction. On the stage was a live band that played to a stripper's exotic dance.

A red rope around separated the main room from an inside room, somewhere that even he hadn't seen yet.

"Hey there," a dark-skinned woman with some of the softest-looking skin leaned next to him. She gave him a sweet smile, "Welcome to Deepest Desires. What desire would you like to fulfill today?"

He looked her up and down. Yes, he could certainly be satisfied with this tonight. "Well," he downed his drink in one swift gulp. "Fucking you until you—"

"Rain?"

He clenched his teeth with frustration at the sudden interruption. Who dares to interrupt him in this fucking shithole?!

"Your regular in table 4 won't leave me alone until you see him off… oh!" She stopped only now realizing he'd been there. "I'm so sorry for the interruption. If you'd like I can take Rain's place."

Who did she think she was to assume that she could decide whether he wanted her or not?! Rabastan turned around to see the bluest set of eyes he'd ever seen.

"Hi, I'm Angel."