Long time no see

After two agonizing days, the hospital called us to say Mirac could come home, and that the strychnine poisoning didn't seem to have left any permanent damage.

In that time, Kyle and I had done a lot of soul-searching—me admitting how ambiguous I'd been about parenthood, even marriage. That discussion had taken place in the wee, sma' hours as we lay in bed while sleep eluded us.

It's easier to confess to things under the cover of darkness. Under the duvet he sought my hand, and I talked and talked, the tears running down my face and onto the pillows.

"... and that's why this is all my fault. If I was a better mother, they wouldn't have been able to target Mirac because I... I would have known. Instinct or something, and it would never have taken place."

Kyle rolled onto his side. The slithers of streetlight coming in through the gap in the curtains highlighted wet eyelashes and the drip on the end of his nose.

"That's rubbish, Maya. I can say the same thing—if only I'd questioned that friggin' message about going to the Academy early."

We'd since found out that the summons had been faked. Whoever had poisoned Mirac set the day up carefully. A last-minute change of schedule for Kyle so that he left the flat early, dropping off Mirac before the rest of the nursery filled up, and then a deliberate attempt to stall him outside the academy when the nursery first notified him of Mirac's condition. Gareth had picked up one of the nursery team for questioning—a woman who'd started work there a month ago and then vanished the day of Mirac's poisoning.

She was still in custody. Gareth's questioning would be relentless, but so far, the woman kept insisting that she acted by herself. Garth kept pressing her for a motive. All she could come up with was that she hated me and wanted revenge on someone who'd campaigned for changes to vampire rights.

"I don't buy it," Gareth told me. "There's no way she did this by herself. She's working on behalf of someone or something else, and I'll find them."

The issue had been discussed in the assembly—every member clamouring to add their condemnations to anyone who targeted Dunrovia's elected officials this way. Cheryl, her eyes sporting that same, red-rimmed look Kyle wore, vowed to countless journalists and political editors that she'd instructed our Special Branch officers to leave no stone unturned in the hunt for the people who'd attempted to poison her grandson.

I rolled over to face Kyle. "Everything will be different from now on. You, me and Mirac. I'll still work for the assembly and campaign for changes, but you two are my number one priority."

His lips landed on mine as his hand tugged at the old T-shirt I wore, and he clambered on top of me.

Oh, God, not now, not...

You've just told him he's your number one priority from now on, the inner voice scolded. Prove it.

Fake it till you make it... in this case, literally. I gave him an Oscar-winning performance of an orgasm, the moans and groans so loud they must have woken the neighbours.

At the hospital the next morning, the doctor welcomed us to Ward 3. "We're going to miss this little man," she said, showing us into the room. The public, also outraged at the attempt on a tiny baby's life, had bombarded Mirac with flowers and teddy bears, and they took up the entire room.

A nurse sat next to Mirac's cot, wiggling the mobile that hung above him as his eyes fixed on the moving baubles, and he giggled in response. When he spotted us, his little face lit up all the more, making Kyle burst into tears yet again. He scooped Mirac up and covered him in kisses.

The flowers I distributed among the nurses and doctors who'd cared for Mirac. Gareth offered to pack up the teddies and deliver them later. The 24-hour surveillance he'd put on our house would continue, he said, until they'd caught the culprit.

Kyle let me drive home, so that he could sit in the back of the car with Mirac babbling nonsense to him. The main entry door to our flats was on the latch. Strict instructions on the door ordered residents never to do that. Had someone else broken into the building?

"What the hell," I said, forcing down the lock so that it sprung back. "Gareth's officers are meant to be keeping an eye on this place. Wait here."

Kyle, Mirac held in the baby carrier, shook his head. "Don't. It might be dangerous. Call Gareth and get him to send someone here as quick as he can."

The phone went straight to voicemail. Mirac started to cry. The December weather made hanging around outside unpleasant.

"I won't do anything stupid," I said, springing up the stairs, terrified at what I might find. The people who'd tried to poison Mirac back to finish the job and murder me and Kyle while they were at it?

In the corridor, there were no obvious signs of an intruder. The doors to the adjacent flats looked the same as usual, as did ours—bolted shut, no evidence of anyone breaking locks or battering them down.

I unlocked the three bolts and let myself in. Nothing to see here either, but the skin on the back of my neck prickled, anyway.

"Who's there?"

Sharon had keys, as did Cheryl, but they wouldn't have done this cloak and dagger stuff.

In the living room.

Fuck, another mind reader. Who—had Justin, no, he wouldn't da—

I prodded the living room door, and it swung open. A man stood beside the window, the curtains pulled tightly shut. He turned to meet my gaze. I flicked on the light switch.

"Hello, Maya. Long time no see. Remember me?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE - thanks for reading! Next update, Friday 7 May 2021.

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