“My only regret is that I
did not kill Khalid myself for what he did to Owen,” Rikard said, his voice
filled with pain and anger.
Marston looked up from where
he was ministering to Kemp. “Without you and our friend Trevor keeping his
attention, he might have known I had arrived. You did you fair share in seeing
to his demise.”
“How is he doing?” Trevor
asked as he knelt down beside the father and son.
“He’ll live.” Marston smiled
wryly. “If he were a full vampyre this would be easier, as between us we could
replace the blood he’s lost. As it is I’ve healed his wounds, at least
the physical ones. Those in his mind will, I’m afraid, take much longer.”
Rikard nodded as he turned
to look at the young woman who still huddled in the far corner of the room. Her
eyes were glazed with terror while she trembled uncontrollably. He crossed,
kneeling down in front of her, cupping her chin in his hand as he gazed at her.
“None of this happened,” he told her softly as he took control of her mind.
With a thought he wiped her memory of the last few hours, replacing it with
thoughts of a beautiful young man, his Child, dancing with her until dawn at
one of the clubs before taking her home. Once he had done that and then found
her address he sent her into a deep sleep. He released her from the ropes that
held her, removing the dirty rag that had gagged her, and then picked her up.
“I’ll be back shortly,” he told the others before vanishing.
Marston touched Kemp’s chest
and sighed in relief as he felt the strong beating of his heart. “It will be
safe for me to take him home soon.”
“I’m not certain that’s a
good idea,” Trevor said.
Looking at him the vampyre
frowned. “Home is where he belongs until he’s fully healed.”
“Take it from one who knows,
he won’t find the kind of healing he needs if he is being coddled, even if
that’s done by loving parents. And before you deny it, you know that his mother
most certainly will do that and probably you as well.”
“Then what do you suggest?
That I leave him to fend on his own?” Marston hissed.
“Not hardly.” Trevor shot
him a look of exasperation. “Leave him with me. And before you try to argue
with me, remember that he and I are alike in what we are for starters.”
“Hardly a reason to think
you know how to care for him better than I.”
“I did say for starters.
I’ve been through what he has—been responsible for the death of someone I
though I loved and killed a vampyre who didn’t deserve to die.” Trevor’s eyes
darkened with emotion.
“Tell me.”
And Trevor did. While he
talked Marston looked long and hard at him, judging the truth of his words and
emotions. The vampyre nodded slowly when Trevor finished, obviously deep in
thought. Finally he smiled in acceptance.
“I designate you his
guardian.”
“Hey now! That’s not quite
what I had in mind. Care and feeding, yeah, and making sure he doesn’t go off
the deep end if I can help it. But his guardian?”
Marston chuckled. “I didn’t
mean in a legal sense. Perhaps I should have said protector until he is able to
face what happened and accept that none of it was his fault. You are correct;
you will be much more able to do that than either his mother or me, or his
brother as far as that goes. They love each other but I’m not certain that Kemp
doesn’t still hold Leif partly responsible for him and Owen being separated in
the first place.”
“I agree. Alright, for the
near future at least I’ll, umm, babysit your whelp.”
“Son, not whelp,” Marston
replied with a snort. “I am not a shifter, well, not in the way that ‘whelp’
implies.”
“You do have a few damned
good tricks up you sleeve though. Ones I’ll have to remember are possible if I run
into a vampyre in the future who tries to pull them on me.”
“If you do run into such a
one, even you will be way over-matched, my friend. Now, shall we get my son to
your place so his healing can continue? I’d prefer he not wake up here,
surrounded by the reminders of what happened.”
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