Page 273 of A Vicious Love

I looked at Sienna. “Your niece is becoming an enemy.”

Mila touched the tattooed script at the base of my throat with one fingertip. Her hand was clean enough. Mostly. “What does this one say?”

“Blood remembers.”

Her eyes widened. “Blood has a brain?”

“In Crow houses, yes.”

“That’s weird. What about the bird?” She tapped the dark wing near my collarbone where the open shirt had shifted.

“That one means house and war.”

“My house has dolls.”

“Lucky house.”

Mila studied me with unnerving seriousness. “Do you cry?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“Dad cries,” she said. “He cried when Nell was born. Mom said he cried when I was born too, but I don’t remember because I was busy.”

“Birth is demanding.”

“Yes.” Mila patted Honey. “Mama has a baby boy now.”

“Not now,” Sienna corrected gently. “Soon.”

“In her tummy,” Mila said. “He kicks. Dad talks to him. It’s silly because he can’t talk back.”

The frog search ended only because Mila got tired and Nell claimed the bucket needed a rest. Tomas protested, then slipped on the damp bank. I caught the back of his shirt before he went into the water.

He dangled for one second, arms out. I set him upright.

“You’re fast.” He stared at me. “Can you catch knives?”

“Yes.”

Sienna turned sharply. “No knife questions.”

Tomas looked disappointed. “Girls ruin things.”

By the time we returned to the lawn, I was carrying Mila, Honey, one rescued sandal, and the empty frog bucket. Sienna walked beside me, still smiling. Nell and Tomas ran ahead.

The Bellemere adults reacted with the restrained horror of people watching a myth behave incorrectly.

Sabine stood beneath a striped umbrella with one hand resting on her stomach, visibly pregnant. Her husband, Henri stood beside her with a towel sliding from one shoulder because he kept adjusting the umbrella over Sabine with his free hand.

“Mila,” Sabine said, looking between us. “Darling, have you made Jamison carry you the whole way?”

“No,” Mila said.

Sienna lifted the muddy sandal. “Most of the way.”