Chapter 30

A weeping willow stands tall in the distance. Her branches whisper against the wind, stretching and bending to Nature's will. It's as if the beauty of her dance masks the sorrow woven into her sensitive leaves. It's hard to tear my eyes away from her, one of the only pieces in this town left untouched and unmarred by the immortals.

"When they woke us up to leave in the middle of the night, I didn't expect this would be the place we'd end up," Fiona whispers beside me.

She huddles a blanket against her chest and stares at the broken town before us. The porch swing creaks beneath our weight. She toes the wooden floorboard and gets our momentum going again.

"I just...I didn't realize things had gotten this bad," she adds.

She reaches to the small coffee table beside her to pick up her cup of tea. A wisp of heat dances away from its surface. She slurps a hasty sip and puckers the minute it touches her lips. I'm not sure why, but the moment reminds me of sitting with Kelly in the coffee shop as we discussed our vampires.

It only happened a few months ago, but it feels like years.

"I didn't either," I murmur honestly.

"Then why are we here?"

"This is the most secluded town in the north," I explain. "And Bogdan said the further north we travel, the safer we will be."

Fiona gives me a sideways glance and lowers the cup of tea to her lap. "You really trust him, don't you?"

"I don't have a reason not to," I answer sharply.

She snorts and shakes her head. "I could name a few."

When she realizes what she's said aloud, she quickly whips her head in the direction of our new living quarters. She squints up at the second floor, no doubt wondering if Bogdan and Kelly heard her nasty retort. Which, of course, they did.

I sigh and reach for my own cup of tea. The heat pulses through the thick layer of glass, pressing against the pads of my fingertips with a kiss of warmth. Fiona still doesn't get it. She doesn't realize that the two immortals unintentionally eavesdropping on our conversation are doing all they can to protect her. To protect us.

We sit in silence for a few minutes longer before Fiona squirms beside me.

"So what's the plan after this?" she huffs. "Take us to another empty and pillaged town where we can hide for a few days?"

I shrug. "I'm not sure."

She plunks her tea back onto the table. The liquid sloshes and a few drops dribble down the side of the cup. She throws her hands up in the air, exasperated.

"I can't keep doing this, Finn. It's....It's like I'm always running from something. Or someone. That's how I ended up at Mark's camp in the first place."

"How?"

A sad, distant smile hangs from her lips. "I got tired of running. So I just stopped. Within a day, they found me."

While Fiona was in Mark and Leo's captivity, I was in Axel's. I remember thinking about her while I was there, wondering why she wasn't coming to rescue me. All the while she was holed up and tied to a chair – probably wondering the same damn think about me.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, not knowing what else to say.

Fiona stares off into the distance. I follow her gaze, allowing my eyes to study the splash of chaos left in the wake of this town. All the other houses are abandoned. Clothes, food, and garbage spills across the lawns and into the streets.

Everything is splattered with blood. It's not enough to make it appear as brutal carnage, but enough to show the mark of immortals.

"It's funny," Fiona murmurs. "I've always hated vampires. I never thought I'd hate humans, too."

Her voice becomes pained and her shoulders stiffen. Not once has Fiona talked about her time in captivity, but she's had many nightmares from it since. What exactly did they do to her while she was in their hands? Torture her? Starve her?

"Fiona," I venture hesitantly. "What did they do to you? When you – "

"Stop. I don't want to talk about it."

She swallows hard and glances up at the second floor again, and I understand what she's saying. She doesn't want to talk about it within earshot of them. I nod my head and leave it at that. I haven't offered up any information about my time with Axel, after all.

Sometimes the pain is far too scarring to re-live.

"What do you think is going to happen this time?" I ask after a stretch of stagnant silence. "With the war?"

Fiona takes another sip of her tea. Her eyes continue to peruse the sad sights before us. Her focus narrows on something in the distance and her shoulders sag. She nods her head, and I follow her gaze until my eyes find her source of concern.

A man no older than 40 lies in his front yard – dead and drained of all blood. His pale skin shines a sickly white color against the patches of yellow and green grass around him. His eyes are still open, though, and the expression of fear is frozen into place.

"I think we dove head-first into a battle we weren't prepared for," she mutters. "And now there's no going back."

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I skip down the rickety stairs. There are still a few pictures limply hanging from the walls. Strangers' faces smile back at me, their eyes a ghostly glimpse into the living who once resided here. The picture on my end catches my eye. It's black and white, capturing a young man close to my age. He's laughing and pointing to the medal he's holding in his right hand.

What stands out to me in this picture, however, isn't any of this. It's the fact that the man in this picture...looks like Bogdan.

I lean towards it to get a better look. Familiar, dark eyes stare back at me, devoid of the red I am so used to seeing in Bogdan's. His features are all similar, too. The only differences I can see are in the nose and eyebrows. The man in the picture has a nose more pointed than Bogdan's, and his eyebrows don't arch as high above his piercing eyes.

Other than that, the two could be brothers.

In a hasty moment's decision, I pull the picture off the wall and fumble to get it free of its frame. When the stolen glimpse of time is at my fingertips, I fold it in half and stick it in my pocket. I do my best to align the frame back onto the wall and continue down the last few steps.

Bogdan doesn't bother glancing up when I enter the kitchen. He's hunched over a mixing bowl, his frown deepening as he reads the instructions on the box. A broken egg slips across the surface of the granulated mixture now mounding across the bottom of the bowl.

"What are you making?" I ask.

I keep out the word 'trying,' forcing it to dangle from the tips of my lips. If it was Kelly who was here, I'd have no problem teasing him about his lack of ease around the kitchen. With Bogdan, however, my nerves get the better of me. It's not even that I think he'll be angry; I simply want him to enjoy my company.

...and I'm not sure if sarcastic banter is in the vampire repertoire of communication.

"Something called a corn muffin," Bogdan responds crisply. "Though if this is any indication of the final product, I will lose respect for all mankind."

His gaze flickers to me, and I notice just a hint of flour smudged across his nose. The image of him – a creature so pristine and graceful – looks so out of place inside this run-down kitchen. I flash him an impish grin and slide into the seat beside him.

His red orbs follow my movements, and the heat of his gaze reaches me soul deep. Desire flares within me, and I try to push it away before he can smell my change in emotion. I gently reach for the bowl and pull it towards me.

"May I?" I ask.

Bogdan releases his hold and sits back. His eyes don't leave me, though. I swallow hard and begin to stir. My lip finds its way into my mouth, and I nibble on it while I work. When I study the grainy mixture, I think about how many times I used to stir pancakes for Fiona all those Saturday mornings at her and Kelly's apartment.

I never realized how special those mundane mornings were until now.

"Where's Fiona and Kelly?" I ask, clearing my throat.

"Out."

I sigh and grab for the cupcake pan. There aren't any liners in them, and it appears the cooking spray didn't just get used for the muffin holders. The entire pan is doused in it. I suppress a laugh and begin pouring a dollop of muffin mix into each holder.

"Another feeding?"

"No."

I pause and glance up to meet his gaze. "Is he trying to woo her with his old 'fake' memories?"

I try not to show the anger pulsing through me, but it's there in my voice all the same. Every spare moment I've had away from Fiona has been spent with Kelly, informing him of every detail I can possibly remember about the two of them.

I'd like to say my anger solely stems from having to play into the immortals' hands, but I know that isn't entirely true. Another large piece is due to my lack of alone time with Bogdan.

Bogdan's eyebrows raise in amusement. "If that's what you'd like to call it."

I push the bowl aside when I finish and cross my arms over my chest. "Whatever we're calling it, I still don't like it."

"Hmmm."

Bogdan leans back to give me access to the oven, and the sweltering heat nips at my features when I open the door. I delicately set the pan in the middle of the rack and close the door. The feeling of being in a kitchen – cooking, no less – feels like such a mundane, simple thing to be doing amongst the chaos surrounding me.

And I am grateful for every minute of it.

"And how is it going?" I ask.

"With the said wooing?" Bogdan quips.

I glare in his direction. His lips twitch in a semblance of a small smile. He folds his fingers across his stomach and sighs.

"It's going as well as can be expected. Though an unforeseen development has been discovered which I now realize is slowing their progress."

"Which is?"

Bogdan locks eyes with me. He stares into my gaze, tilting his head to the side in silent debate. It's clear there's a special bond forming between him and Kelly. Does he consider me as the liability who stands in between Fiona and Kelly?

I'll admit, I am not happy with the current plan of lying to her in order to get her to stay. But I already agreed to it. I'm not going to back out now.

After a moment of silence, Bogdan leans forward, propping his elbows up on the edge of the table.

"Your friend," he says quietly. "Is with child."

My eyes widen. "What? That's....not possible. She was only with Kelly a few nights ago. You can't already know – "

Bogdan frowns, shaking his head to stop me. "She is pregnant, human, but not because of Kelly."

My jaw slackens. I think back to my conversations with Fiona. She seemed so broken after being with Kelly, almost as if the past was haunting her. I assumed it was because of her past with Kelly. But perhaps...it was because of her past while she was in captivity.

"She was already pregnant by the time we rescued her," I whisper in disbelief.

He nods a single time. "That child is fully mortal. The only thing we need to know now is who makes up the other half of its DNA. Because once we do, I think we'll learn where her mortal alliances lie..."

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A/N: Sorry for the delay on update, folks.  Next chapter should be posted in a day or so.  Big news for Fiona, eh?  

Also,  I posted a song I thought was fitting for Fiona's emotional turmoil throughout the chapter.  Raw song for raw emotions.

Thank you all for reading and hope you have a great start to your week!