“Yep, that he most definitely is. He means well though. He just gets a little carried away sometimes, but he’s harmless, mostly.” Lola nodded, catching herself smiling again at the way Talyse scrunched her nose.
“Him and Lyri weird. Both too kissy.” Not that they had tried to kiss her. They were just overly affectionate with other people who didn’t seem to mind it so much.
“Did I say break in? It’s a hospital and we’re family. Pretty sure we could at least inquire if they allow for visits and do it that way, raise less suspicion. That way, nobody even has to know about it and we might at least get some kind of lead to go on instead of just speculating and getting nowhere.”
“Pretty sure it’s a secured ward and he’s not allowed to have visitors,” she replied, huffing a little. “I…may or may not read mom’s old diaries trying to find anything out and, yeah, she had written down that they wouldn’t let her see him.” She at least had the decency to look embarrassed for the invasion of privacy, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her.
It wasn’t the scent of blood and death that had August glancing around before slipping into the house. Honestly, the smell of flesh already beginning to rot made him want to run in the opposite direction. But there was a baby crying and he couldn’t leave it. Not when he could smell shifter beneath the gore.
The woman had been shot execution style, her dark hair stiff with dried blood. The stench was enough to make him gag, but seeing that little girl lying next to her mother’s cold body was too much. She was screaming her lungs out and no one had bothered to come for her. No one had bothered to come for either of them.
Quietly, he scooped the baby up and carried her from the room. He was gentle as he rocked her, trying to soothe her tears, but he knew she had to be starving and uncomfortable.
It hadn’t been hard to find the diapers or clean clothes, all of the stuff for the child was neatly arranged in a bright pink room. It had been years since he had tended to a baby, but he managed well enough with getting her cleaned and changed before making her a bottle.
While she ate, August looked around the room, the name Aislynn was spelled out in little wooden blocks glued to the wall. It must have been her name.
He doubted there were any legal papers on the child. His kind wasn’t fond of paper trails or human doctors for a reason. Once she was asleep and settled, He rooted around the house for things to take. A car seat to carry her in, a duffle bag filled with clothes and diapers, formula, and a handful of things that belonged to her mother. He could never replace what the child had lost, but he could, at the very least give her a good life.
Once the baby was safe, he could make arrangements, get the right papers forged, give the child’s mother a proper burial. But for now, all he cared about was making sure the baby was safe.
He had argued about being assigned to this damn bar. He knew the reputation of the place and it was definitely the furthest from his personality. It was going to put a dent in everything he had been working towards with Adi. Unfortunately, Robert didn’t have much of a say in it.
Why he had been told to report back everything this Cordae did was beyond him, but he couldn’t shake the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. The hounds did little to deter him, but it did make it clear how protected the place was, even before he caught sight of the warding.
Overkill came to mind, but if the reputation of the place was anything to go by, they all served a purpose. It also explained why his bosses needed someone else to get in.
She was smarter than he was anticipating.
The bar was mostly empty when he walked through the door, the only others of his kind being the red head behind the bar and the crossroader in the suit chatting with her. He recognized Sorin, but made no mention of it.
“What’cha drinkin’?” the red head asked, glancing over at him. Something in her eyes seemed painfully familiar, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.
“Do you carry any wines?” His tone was carefully neutral.
Cord lofted a brow at him before a laugh broke past her lips.
“Darlin’, dunno what kinda place ya think this is, but we don’t carry wine. I do have the three J’s: Jim, Jack, and Jose. Even got some Captain, but I ain’t got wine.”
He shouldn’t have been surprised. The place looked like an old time saloon with just a collection of modern accents here and there. “Do you carry better bourbon than Beam or Daniels?”
“Yeah, I got some shit aged twenty or more years, but it ain’t cheap. Not that it matters with how you’re dressed.” She saw the watch, knew the brand well enough. He was dressed well off. Made her wonder why he would be setting foot in her bar. Sorin at least made sense after this many centuries of knowing him.
“Presumptuous.”
“Owner and damn good at what I do. I know what to look for,” she shot back, grinning as she poured him a drink. “And I also know yer kind’s trouble I don’t really want in my bar. I know a lapdog when I see one.”
He was mildly taken back at that one. “I hardly know what you’r–”
She cut him off. “Don’t play games, kids. I’m old and you’re not the first that’s come through these damn doors. Don’t rightly care who you answer to. I stay out of hell business and I expect hell to stay the fuck out of mine.”
“Your exile was only meant as a temporary punishment. Surely you knew this.”
“Robert, you really shouldn’t have come,” Sorin finally remarked, saluting with his glass. “I get why they chose you, but it isn’t going to work.”
Cord frowned at that, her attention briefly shifting back to her friend. “You wanna fill a girl in, Sor?”
Even Robert’s attention was fixed on the elder demon at that.
“Same bloodline,” he answered, tossing back the rest of his drink with ease. “Rebecca, how did you not learn Robert made a deal when he was mortal? Honestly, the child was always too much like yourself.”
The words hit Cord like a bus and she simply gaped at him, at a loss for words for the first time Sorin had ever witness.
“My mother was murdered, she was not a demon,” Robert spoke, his voice colder than ice, hands wrapped too tightly around the glass in his hands. The glass cracked under the pressure, but he didn’t notice.
“Ask her the names of your brother and sister and I bet she can answer correctly.”
“Edmund and Margaret,” Cord said softly, horrified by what her son had become.
The names were nearly proof enough, but he knew well enough that other demons were seldom honest. Still, it was the pain in her eyes that made him believe.
Without another word, he released the glass, stood, and walked out. Yin could take his order and shove them for all he cared.
