Demon Blood

he said things like that. But it didn’t change the facts.
    She stood, began to pace the room. “Vampires and Guardians . . . we can’t have children after we’re transformed. Can’t. Don’t you think that’s for a reason?”
    “I don’t know what the big guy Above was thinking. But if you’re about to argue that it all has a purpose , my response is that I don’t give a fuck what He plans.”
    Though she’d suspected he felt that way, she had to catch her breath at such blasphemy. But she understood why: His community had been slaughtered. Thinking that their deaths had a purpose didn’t offer any comfort. The opposite, in fact.
    But in Rosalia’s opinion, that hadn’t anything to do with those Above. What happened to Deacon’s community, what happened to her friends . . . that was on the shoulders of the demons.
    “No. That’s not what I mean. We can’t take care of them. Not as babies. Who would care for a vampire’s child during the day? A Guardian has to follow the Rules, and has responsibilities that often take her away from home. But it is more than that, and it is not just babies. There are times when a child must be led where it doesn’t want to go, just to keep it safe.” She turned to him, spreading her hands, hoping he’d see. “I had Gemma’s grandmother to help me. Thank God I had her. But I should have known better. I did know better. But Father Wojcinski brought Vin here, and he was so small, and so afraid and angry and I just . . . fell in love. I didn’t want anything more than to see him happy.”
    And she’d loved that little boy so fiercely—so unexpectedly. She’d never dreamed of being a mother. The others had called her “Mother” as a joke, because she’d had the habit of straightening their clothes. She’d never thought a child would come into her life and change everything.
    “And you think you were wrong to take him in?” He remained sitting, but his green eyes followed her every move.
    “I think that the moment I decided to be a mother, I should have stopped being a Guardian. I should have Fallen and become human again, so that I could have been what he needed. Not always holding myself back. Not always finding ways around him.” She sighed when he shook his head, and repeated, “I should have Fallen. But before I Fell I would have to kill Lorenzo, just to be safe . . . and I still had hope that he could change. I still wanted to work with my vampires. I wanted to be both mother and Guardian—and I loved Vin, so I kept him. But I should have chosen one or the other. It was a selfish decision.”
    “Because you didn’t Fall? Jesus, Rosie. Are you telling me that if he’d been standing in front of a bus and wouldn’t move, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way to save him?”
    “Of course I would. But motherhood and love aren’t the grand, hypothetical gestures. They are the little, everyday ones.”
    He shook his head again, but she cut him off before he could argue.
    “And you must see that it is more than that. He said everything is turned around . . . and it is. He’s not immortal, Deacon. And even if I became human again today, I’d be younger than him.” She saw the understanding in his face. Good. Just knowing that one day she would experience what no mother should squeezed her heart into nothing. She couldn’t have explained without breaking down. “Every day, every single day , I realize: I should have Fallen when I took him in. But now I have to live with what I’ve chosen. And so does Vin.”
    His chest lifted on a heavy breath. “Would it do any good to tell you that you’ve gone overboard punishing yourself?”
    “No. Some burdens cannot be taken away with words.”
    Deacon gave a short laugh. “Don’t I know it.”
    He would. No words could take away what he bore, thanks to the demons and the decisions he made.
    Smiling, she returned to her chair. “But I cannot regret for a moment that he is mine. Even when he is a . . . whatever you would have said he is.”
    His laugh became a grin, and her heart turned over. She could regret nothing here, either. And no matter his reaction when he learned her part in his past, she would live with the decisions she’d made.
    “Did you want children?” she wondered.
    “You don’t keep that in your story file?”
    “No.” And she loved that there was so much still to learn about him. “Did you?”
    “Yeah. I wanted kids.”
    “You did?” Anxiety rushed through her;