Brimstone Bride by Barbara J. Hancock

Author:Barbara J. Hancock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2016-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Sybil sat in front of the computer screen in a beach cottage all the way across the country in Connecticut. Victoria had already spoken to Michael as long as his toddler interest would allow and she could now hear him playing with his cars in the background. Every now and then a “Move, Gim!” could be heard as the hellhound apparently got in the way. With his massive body materialized, there would be little space for him in the cottage’s living room.

“Of course I know about the Burn. As the daemon king well knows. I have handled many babies as they dealt with the moment when their spark becomes a flame. You have nothing to fear,” Sybil said. “I may be a seamstress, not a nanny, but I have lived many centuries. Such a life doesn’t come without basic knowledge.”

“This isn’t comparable to teething,” Victoria said. She leaned closer to the screen to try to read Sybil’s smooth face. “You’re downplaying the danger. Michael isn’t a daemon baby. He’s a half daemon. My blood also flows in his veins. Will that affect his ability to handle the ignition?”

Sybil glanced over her shoulder and a hint of a smile tilted her lips at something that Michael had done. Victoria felt a pang when she realized she was missing a month of her young son’s life.

“It’s possible that the Burn will be harder for him to endure. It’s also possible that it will be lessened by your blood. That the Burn will not be as strong. I’m with him every moment of every day. Grim is an even stricter nanny than I am. We watch. We wait. In all likelihood, if you were present when it occurred you wouldn’t be able to help him without risking immolation,” Sybil said. “I didn’t want to worry you. Do what you’ve gone there to do. Find your voice.”

“The daemon king wants Michael to join him in hell. He sees Michael as his grandson and his heir,” Victoria whispered. She could hear her son laughing now. Apparently he’d decided the hellhound was more fun than the tiny toy cars.

“I have no advice for you on that score. I, myself, have chosen to stay on Earth. L’Opera Severne is my home. It’s a new building, but it was built on the foundations of the old. I belong there. Perhaps Michael will have to decide where he belongs one day when he’s older, when the time is right,” Sybil said. “For now, you choose for him. Your intuition will guide you. You are his mother whether you are in the same room with him or a thousand miles away.”

“Thank you, Sybil,” Victoria said. She ignored the sting of tears in her eyes and the squeeze around her heart. The daemon seamstress who was moonlighting as a nanny turned and reached down to pick Michael up for goodbyes. The squirming toddler placed the smear of a wet kiss on the screen and when Sybil chided him he calmed and placed his hand on the screen.

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