“I know, my love,” Amory replied, a sad smile playing softly at the corner of her mouth. “I know.”
She happened to agree with her daughter. Roseville’s vampires were too proud a people to be herded behind their tall walls, relying on warding magic for their safety. This was their town, their home. If any should walk these streets without fear it was them. And yet here they were, compliant to a threat and afraid of who it might take next. It wasn’t their way, and Amory herself loathed that they had allowed themselves to be subjugated by any entity, unknown or otherwise.
Anger had nod subsided with the days since Thalia’s murder. It was not likely to fade until her attacker’s head was posted on a pike in front of the Estate’s wrought iron gates. But Amory was beyond hysterics, past allowing irrational reaction navigate her next move. Always her touchstone, she could borrow some of her husband’s inherent stoicism and rely on logic and strategy to exact justice. The Coven would have its revenge, being smart about getting it would simply take time.
Patience was a learned skill that she and Eva would simply have to consciously practice. They would hone their rage with a whetstone until the time finally came to retaliate. Who knows, perhaps revenge would even be sweeter with time.
The sad smile on Amory’s expression turned understanding at Eva’s words. She brushed her fringe out of her eyes, tucking the soft strands behind her ear as she searched her daughter’s too beautiful face. “I know you care, my tiny dancer. You care so much it scares you. It always has, sweet girl, ever since you were a babe on my hip. You feel so deeply you fear there is no bottom to it.” The corner of Amory’s lips curled and she brushed her knuckles on Eva’s smooth cheek in gentle caress. “Easier to pretend you feel nothing at all than to wade the vast ocean roiling under the surface.”
That was what happened when two personalities such as she and Hadrian were joined. Amory was volatile and reactive, a churning volcano always capable of eruption. Hadrian was the deadly frigid calm of the arctic, all icy winds and soul-devouring permafrost. Their temperaments combined was no easy thing to manage. It was understandable why Eva would choose dispassion. In these troubled times there was such thing as feeling too much. Amory knew, and she’d never fault her daughter for that choice.
She held her daughter’s face in her hands and brought her brow forward for a kiss. Unwilling to leave her affection at that, she gave the girl two more; one to each cheek before pulling her into a tight embrace. “Then endeavour to give me fewer reasons to worry, won’t you?” Amory pulled back to catch her daughter’s gaze when she answered, wanting Eva to look her in the eyes as she did so.
A warm simper met her apology. “Your best is all I ask for, sweetheart. And for you to be conscientious of what you mean to your family and your coven. Be safe, if not for your own sake then for ours.” Her smile broadened with the love she had for the stunning female before her. Again Amory fussed over her daughter’s hair, smiling softly to herself as she did so, and murmuring, “Come now. It’s time for us to go home. Then we can vent some of these frustrations with some swordplay. What do you say?”
Eva knew full well that if anyone agreed with her, it would be her mother. She knew Arran did too but her mother shared that same tornado of anger which resided so immensely in her soul, that it could easily obliterate anything or anyone in its path. The youngest Mordecai also knew that her mother would be very determined to keep her safe. So trying to talk her around with making a point of how she couldn’t be on lockdown like that--how it only made her worse, or perhaps she wanted to do something productive and not sit around and wait for another murder, it seemed like she might be wasting her energy.
“You understand me....always have....”
Very few could understand Eva, but her family did--her parents, her brother and her godparent, Auri. She could be cold and uncaring there was no doubt about it, but when it came to the coven she cared very deeply and yet when things went wrong, Eva manifested that care in ways some could not see as anything but foolishness and lack of concern for anyone. It would be fair to say she didn’t help her own corner due to the fact that she could be a complete pain in the ass and intolerable to some even on a good day. Get a bad day though when hurt and emotional pain had found a place to stay in her heart, then everything she did normally was tenfold--and that included her short fuse.
She closed her eyes and leaned into her mother's touch, each movement slow and relaxed.
“You know...because it’s how you feel, right?”
She didn't really need to ask because Eva was like her mother in a lot of ways. Though she wasn’t sure if her mother would agree or not.
“I will. I will try, mother.”
--and she wasn’t lying. Eva spoke with truth and honesty towards Amory, her visual firmly fixed on her, but when it came to the heat of the moment, pain, anger and frustration suffocated her, so the youngest Mordecai just couldn’t think that way.
There was always something calming about the way her mother would play with tousles of her hair. Maybe it reverted her to the comfort of being a child centuries ago, but it was never something she tired of.
“You all mean everything to me...more than anything at all.”
Eva smiled and nodded as her mother mentioned venting some frustration and she dangled the keys to the boutique playfully in the air.
“Oh, now you are talking.”
With a teasing glance to Amory as she flicked off the lights and linked her arm through hers, Eva wiggled her brow.
“I think I may stand a chance of winning this time.”
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