Ciopori Demir-Silivasi replayed the short conversation in her mind…

“I don’t mind checking on your little one—I absolutely love kids,” Kyla Sparrow had said. “Either way, I’m afraid I need to excuse myself for a moment.”

“Are you sure?” Ciopori had asked.

“Oh, absolutely,” Kyla had answered. “If someone would just point me in the right direction—to the bathroom and the baby—I’d be happy to peek in on his room.”

Ciopori had pushed gently into Marquis’s mind on a private telepathic bandwidth: Warrior, what say you? she had asked.

Before Marquis could answer, Kyla had raised her brows. “If he’s awake, do you want me to bring him down?”

Ciopori had hesitated, but only for a moment, taking the opportunity to glance at Kyla’s inner left wrist, the markings of Lord Cetus that branded the female as Saxson’s mate. Prior to the party, and with a bit of prodding, Marquis had shared the purpose of Saxson’s pre-dawn visit on Wednesday morning; and Ciopori had found it all so terribly sad: the fact that warriors could no longer trust their Blood Moons, the fact that Saxson was grappling with so much angst—but this was altogether different.

This was about Nikolai, their son.

She had smiled warmly at Kyla and answered in a motherly tone: “He should be sleeping soundly, but if he is awake, just come back and get me.” She’d quickly nudged Marquis again. Warrior, what does Saxson think?

The Ancient Master Warrior’s psychic voice had been firm and resolute. My love, don’t be alarmed: The sentinel is already tracking her heartbeats—he is intimately aware of her position in time and space. I don’t know if he’s just being cautious or if he fears she might try to escape their fate—but I believe it should take the average human female about four and a half minutes to use the facilities; five and a half minutes if she messes with her hair and makeup; and it should take another two to three minutes to look in on Nikolai. Anything beyond that, and I will follow up.

As Braden Bratianu gave Kyla directions, Ciopori fought the urge to frown. After all, it was a private conversation. No disrespect, warrior, she had said, but how in the heck did you come up with those numbers?

Marquis didn’t hesitate to frown. Are you making fun of me, my love?

Never, my handsome gladiator, she’d quipped.

He’d harrumphed in her mind. I took an aggregate of the last ten times you and Vanya have excused yourselves to the bathroom, considered what I knew you were doing in there, and calculated an average. Then I added some time based on a human’s slower responses.

At this, Ciopori nearly chuckled…and then grimaced. I’m not even going to ask why you are monitoring both myself and Vanya in the restroom…I don’t even want to know. She paused to let her censure sink in. But I will defer to your…calculations…as I know you are quite precise. However, if Saxson’s destiny takes longer than eight and a half minutes, I will follow up, instead of you—you are far too high-strung, and she is Saxson’s destiny. There’s no need to frighten the girl half to death; I just want to be cautious.

Marquis leveled a sideways glance at his mate, then nodded his head, reluctantly.

“Thank you,” Kyla said to Braden, and Ciopori watched as the female walked away.

* * *

Kyla Sparrow darted into the upstairs bathroom, just long enough to turn on the water and allow it to run in the sink—if Saxson was listening from afar, he would just assume she was bashful and drowning out any noise in the presence of so many vampires. She removed her right spiked heel, detached the small rubber tip at the end of the spike, then slipped it back on her foot.

Careful to open and close the door as noiselessly as she could, she tiptoed quickly to the last bedroom on the left and carefully tilted the knob until the door drifted open.

Holding her breath, she peeked inside.

If the little vampire was awake and playing, her plan would need to be aborted before it had begun.

He wasn’t awake.

In fact, he was sleeping peacefully, like a little angel, tucked inside a light green blanket.

How odd, Kyla thought. They treat these little monsters like real, human children…

Well, that was about to end.

She crept softly toward the crib, eyeing the large mass of raven-black hair swirling around the infant’s scalp in thick, gentle waves. With Marquis for a father and Ciopori for a mother, Nikolai’s hair could not have been anything other than gorgeous, raven black. For a moment, she wondered about the color of his eyes, but she quickly steeled her resolve and refocused her attention on the task at hand.

Bracing her left hand on the top bar of the crib, she bent her right knee and twisted her body to remove the unstrapped red heel. She took a deep breath in an effort to slow her breathing, reached slowly into the crib, and drew back the light green covering. The vampire was wearing a onesie, but it shouldn’t be a problem. Kyla had sharpened the point of the already razor-thin heel at Saxson’s estate earlier that morning, before covering the tip with the smooth rubber plug. Unless she had worn it down by walking, it would cut right through the fabric, flesh, and muscle.

Assuming she applied enough pressure.

She would only get one chance.

Moving so slowly—so quietly—that her motion was barely detectable, she bent over the babe and lined the edge of the heel right over his little heart.

His chest rose and fell with a loud, exhaled breath, and she froze, waiting to see if the feather-light pressure on his chest had woken him up.

Nothing.

He wriggled his nose and fell back asleep.

Kyla sighed in relief.

Child or not—this was still a vampire—she had no idea what the toddler could do with his claws or his fangs, how loud he could scream…or hiss.

Placing the heels of both hands over the heel of the shoe, she locked her elbows in place for greater penetration, and leaned forward into the thrust.