2.5. Just In Case

It’s finally beginning to feel real: in front of Lark is an actual crib, for an actual baby. Nikolas had set it up this afternoon. He’s taken over most of the planning and preparation since it’s apparent that Lark is apprehensive about her pregnancy.

“It’s nice, I guess,” Lark says, “But why put it up here? There’s a spare room downstairs.”

“Yeah, in the basement. Newborns don’t sleep through the night, and like hell I’m stumbling down all those stairs at two in the morning.”

“Good point. But, um, what about the teddy bear?” Lark frowns at the stuffed bear in the crib, a ferocious looking werebear.

“Oh, that. It’s a gift from Karl. I thought it was cute.”

“I don’t like it,” Lark shudders. It reminds her too much of that movie she had watched with Karl, the one that had given her nightmares for several consecutive nights.

“But it’s so friendly looking!”

“I’m serious! Let’s just get another one, okay?”

“Fine,” he kisses her on the cheek, “anything you want.”

Lark frowns. She doesn’t know what she wants. “I should get to work.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you don’t need to work if it’s too much for you.”

“Why would it be too much for me?”

“Um, because you’re--”

“I know,” she sighs, “you don’t need to remind me.”

“Um, okay? Do I need to apologize to you for something?” Nikolas raises an eyebrow.

 

“It’s fine. I just need to get out, okay?

“Got it,” Nikolas nods, “enjoy your night, okay?”

Since she found out she’s pregnant, Lark spends her weeknights working at Bartleby’s, a small bar near her home. It’s brighter than the HORR Bar, and smoking isn’t allowed inside so she feels safer working there. And the owner is perfectly happy to give her control of the bar on weeknights, though he still hovers nearby in case she messes up.

There are a few regulars in the bar, but the one that stands out the most is Lark’s childhood friend Kyra. Soon after Lark discovered she was pregnant, Kyra announced her own little incoming bundle of joy. So almost nightly, Kyra joins Lark at Bartleby’s for mocktails and conversation.

“I’d love if they were both born on the same day--wouldn’t that be amazing?” Kyra says, “We could have joint birthday parties!”

“That would be nice,” Lark agrees, “though they might not like that once they get older. You know, sharing attention and all that. I’m pretty sure Lydia hated being a twin for that exact reason.”

“Oh, and if you have a boy and I have a girl--or vice versa--they could fall in love,” Kyra sighs dreamily, “and maybe get married.”

“Um, they’re going to be second cousins, Kyra. Don’t be gross.”

“Oh, right. Guess I forgot. I just wanna be family!”

“We are family, dummy. You’re married to my cousin, remember?”

“Right, right! Man, this pregnancy brain is doing a number on me. I don’t know how you’re keeping yourself together--I can’t remember a damn thing.”

“I don’t know,” Lark shrugs, “guess I have other symptoms instead.”  Namely, her symptoms are mood swings, a sore back, and a creeping sense of dread about her impending due date. Nothing huge, really.

“Could I get another mocktail? Maybe a a mango mule?”

“Really, Kyra? That’s your third one tonight. I’m gonna have to cut you off,” Lark teases.

“But they’re non-alcoholic, right? Wait, you haven’t been serving me alcohol, have you?”

“It was a joke--you know what, never mind. This next one’s on the house.”

 Kyra continues to chatter as Lark mixes her drink. It’s a quiet night in the bar, devoid of anyone else other than the owner. So of course when the front door opens, it draws her attention: it’s Dominic, wandering timidly into the bar. 

“Dom!” She sidles out from behind the bar with surprising dexterity and throws her arms around him, “maker, it’s been forever!”

He seems unsure of how to react at first, but finally he returns the hug. “It’s been awhile,” he agrees, giving her a slight squeeze. His arms are warm and strong, and he smells like faintly of sweat. It’s not unpleasant, though--just musky.

“I never thought I’d see you again!” Lark smiles at him as he draws away from the hug. 

“Oh wow,” His eyes dart down to her belly and widen, and then he puts her hand on her stomach, “your parents didn’t tell me you’re pregnant! You must be pretty close to your due date.”

“Yeah, that’s fine, just go ahead and touch me without my permission.”

“Oh, sorry,” he cringes and retracts his hand, “just got excited, I guess.”

“And who’s this?” Kyra asks slyly. Lark suddenly feels ashamed.

“Um, this is Dom--Dominic. He’s a friend of my family’s. Dom, this is Kyra, my best friend.”

“I see,” Kyra looks him up and down, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Um, same.”

“I’m surprised Lark has never mentioned you. Your aura--it’s incredible. You’re an old soul, I can feel it.”

The corners of Dom’s mouth twitch. “Is that so?” 

“You’ll have to excuse Kyra,” Lark laughs, “she fancies herself a psychic of sorts.”

“Is that so?”

“Lark is obviously a skeptic, but if you ever need a reading don’t hesitate to ask!”

“A reading?”

“Your fortune, dummy. I’m kind of gifted.”

“Um, thank you,” Dominic says stiffly, “that’s very…nice of you.”

“Kyra, not to be a jerk, but I’d like to catch up with Dom--”

“And you want to be left alone,” Kyra interrupts.

“Well when you put it like that--”

“It’s fine,” Kyra smiles, “I’m tired anyway. See you tomorrow, okay?” And with that Kyra waddles out of the bar.

Dominic watches her leave, and amused look on his face. “She’s…”

“Weird? Yeah, I know.”

“Sweet, kind of.”

“She’s married.”

Dominic’s face turns red. “That’s not what I was saying. I just think she’s nice.”

“I was just teasing you,” Lark smirks, “but now I think the lady doth protest too much…”

With Kyra gone, Dom and Lark settle down at an empty table. And despite Lark’s excitement at reuniting with her long lost friend, silence quickly overtakes them.

“So,” Lark smiles awkwardly, “how have you been?”

“I’ve been well. And you?”

“Can’t complain, can’t complain. Um...so where have you been? Why didn’t you answer my letter?”

“I’ve been traveling,” Dom explains, “in fact, I was hardly ever home, so replying to your letter fell to the wayside.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Champs Les Sims to visit family, and I’ve also been to see my sister a few times--”

“Really?” Lark gasps, “I, um, didn’t think that’d be possible.”

“Um,” Dom shifts uncomfortably in his seat, “it is, but I don’t really want to talk about it here.” Lark glances around the bar--it’s empty, other than the owner. But if Dominic doesn’t want to talk, she won’t force him.

“So how’s your dad?”

“He’s okay. Getting a little old, you know. And I think he’s having problems adjusting to that.”

“I’d imagine that’d be hard for him. So why’d you come back to Aurora Skies?”

“Um…”

“Oh,” Lark rolls her eyes, “for your books, of course.”

“I’m happy to see you, Lark, but yes--that’s part of the reason why.”

“Got it,” Lark slides off the barstool, “let’s go then.”

It’s a short walk to her house, filled with forgettable small talk. Even on the empty streets, Dominic is hesitant to talk about anything other than the mundane. Lark doesn’t understand his devotion to secrecy, but she goes along with it anyway. When they arrive at her home, Lark leaves him in the hall while she goes down to the basement to collect his books. And when she returns, she finds him playing with Honey.

“Having fun?”

“Yeah,” he grins, “I love dogs. And she’s one of Sheba’s pups, isn’t she?”

“How could you tell?”

“Same eyes. Oh, and she’s obviously a Cŵn Annwn, too.”

“Oh, right, I have a magical dog according to you,” she rolls her eyes, “Anyway, here are your books.

Dom drops the ball, much to Honey’s disappointment, and shuffles through the books. He frowns as he examines them. “There’s a scroll missing,” he says quietly.

“Are you sure? I packed them all in the same box, so I don’t think I could have lost it,” Lark furrows her brow. She’s lost a lot of stuff before, but she’s been careful about keeping all of Dominic’s books in the same place.

He counts the books and scrolls again. “I’m certain. It’s an important one, too.”

“I’m so sorry, Dom. I’ll find it, I promise. I’ve been meaning to clean the basement anyway, so I’ll look for it tomorrow.” Lark has an extensive cleaning to-do list, a symptom of her impending due date--everything needs to be in order before the baby comes. A good, deep clean should turn up the missing scroll.

“I was afraid of this, actually,” Dominic sighs, “this isn’t the first item from my family’s collection to go missing recently. Has there been a break-in here any time in the last few weeks?”

“No,” Lark says quickly. Dom tilts his head and knits his brow.

“You know something.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Are you sure?” His tone is careful, controlled, but there’s obvious annoyance beneath the surface.

Lark hesitates, but doesn’t answer.

“You didn’t give the scroll to someone, did you?” his voice raises a little, “Or sell it?”

“No, of course not! I wouldn’t do something like that. It’s just…” she trails off.

“It’s just what?”

“I might know who took it. But I don’t want to betray anyone’s confidence or anything.”

“What do you know, Lark?” he smiles pleadingly, “Just generalities, if it helps. I need to know what happened.”

“You’re here because of those wands that were stolen from the museum, aren’t you?”

“I am,” he raises an eyebrow and waits for her to continue.

“Um, I visited the museum and saw they were donated on the behalf of someone named Trémaux. And then I heard they were stolen, so I figured that’s why you were in town.”

“Yes, they were donated on behalf of my mother. They were originally part of her private collection,” Dominic searches her face, his eyes piercing, “But you know more than that, don’t you?”

“I may know who stole them. And who they stole them for.”

The room is silent for a moment, and Dominic takes a deep breath. “I’m going to try not to ask a lot of questions, because it’s obvious you don’t want me to know everything that happened. But there is one big, obvious question: were you involved in the theft?”

Lark shakes her head vigorously, “no. I just know a little bit about it.”

“One more question: you say they were stolen ‘for’ someone--who? And for what purpose?”

“I don’t know, I just know he hired Nik--someone to steal them. And I’m not sure of his name, either. He was pale and looked kind of, I don't know, serious. I only saw him for a second though.”

“Pale, kind of serious,” Dominic sighs, “that doesn’t exactly narrow it down. I don’t want to keep prying, but is there anything else you can give me? I need to find these wands, Lark. Especially since the scroll is missing too.”

“No, I don’t know anything else,” she hangs her head. Her mind is racing, searching for anything that might help Dominic.

“I think I should go, then,” he says, his jaw clenched in obvious irritation, “thank you for holding on to my books for me.”

“Wait--I think there’s one last thing I can do to help you,” Lark grabs Nikolas’ laptop from his desk and sets it on the dining room table. 

“I saw this guy talking on the computer,” she explains, “like a webcam conversation. I think, um, the thief might have the buyer’s contact info on this computer.”  She turns on the computer, enters Nikolas’ password, and begins her search.  

Dominic settles into the chair next to her. “You live here with your boyfriend, right? That’s what your mom said.”

“Yeah, Nikolas,” she says absently.

“Anyone else?”

“No,” she glances at him, “why all the questions?”

“Sorry, I won’t ask any more.”

“Look, I found his address book. There’s a few names here,” Lark scans over the list of names, before zeroing in on one: “Gaius Gallus. That’s right--I remember his name was really stupid. Apparently he lives in Roaring Heights. 21 Palm Tree Avenue.”

Dominic is quiet for a moment as he takes in the information. “So Nikolas stole and sold the wands to this man, then.”

“I thought you said no more questions,” Lark shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

“It wasn’t a question. You have this information on a laptop in your home, which you share with one other person. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s the one who stole the wands, unless you’re lying about being involved.”

“I’m not,” she snaps.

“I know. Which just proves my point.”

“I’m--I’m sorry,” she looks down at her hands, “I knew what Nikolas was going to do, but I didn’t know they belonged to your family, if it makes any difference.”

“It doesn’t.”

“You’re judging me.”

“A little.”

“Well fuck you then!”

“I’m sorry, that was rude,” Dominic puts his hands up, “I just didn’t think you’d be so okay with your boyfriend being a thief.”

“Well maybe you don’t know that much about me, Dominic. We’ve met like once, so we’re hardly friends.”

“I know you’re a good person.”

“Yeah, well maybe I’m not.”

“You helped my father and me when you had no reason not to. You showed concern for a man who had from the get go been rude and condescending to you. You put yourself in danger, even. And you’re helping me now, even though you obviously want to be loyal to your boyfriend, too.”

“I helped plan a heist,” she retorts, “well, I guess I just helped case the museum. But my point still stands.”

“May I ask another question?”

“You just did.”

Dominic ignores her and continues with his query: “When you were helping your boyfriend with his plans, who did you think you were affecting?”

She blinks. “Um, no one, really. The wands were in a museum. And I figured if anyone owned them, they were just some rich schmuck.”

“So the wealth of the potential owners helped cement your decision?”

“You’re judging me again,” she frowns.

“No, I’m not. I’m just curious as to your frame of mind.”

“Then yes, it helped ‘cement my decision.’”

“Why?”

“Because I figured they wouldn’t miss anything! They were so rich it wouldn’t matter,” her voice breaks a little at the end of the sentences as she realizes how stupid she sounds.

“I can see that.”

“Oh, and now you’re mocking me.”

“I’m really not. It’s easy to assume things about people you’ve never met.”

Lark rolls her eyes. There’s no point in continuing this conversation, so she changes the subject. “So you have the address. What are you gonna do now?”

“Research. I have my suspicions about ‘Gaius Gallus,’ but I want to verify them first.”

“What are your suspicions?” Lark perks up.

“The scroll that’s missing is a necromancy scroll. And the wands Nikolas stole were part of my mother’s necromancy collection--each one contains components that ensure that ability to influence the realm of death. You described Gallus as pale, and his name is frankly anachronistic.”

“So?”

“So I think he’s a vampire.”

Lark laughs, “seriously? That’s crazy.”

“Not really, though. You’ve met a fairy and two mages. And you told me yourself that your grandmother was extraterrestrial, so vampires aren’t that much of a stretch, are they?”

“No, I guess not. But what are they like? Like, are they Edward Cullen vampires or Dracula vampires?”

“They’re strong, fast, and the older they are, the less human they are. And they’re the only creature that’s actually immortal. From what I’ve read, fairies can live a long time, but they’re not actually eternal.”

“So how are you going to get the wands back? And the scroll?”

Dominic sighs, then smiles deviously at her, “Could I hire your boyfriend to steal them back?”

“No way! If vampires are as dangerous as you say, I’m not letting the father of my unborn child do that.”

“Fine, fine. I guess I’ll have to think of something else then.”

“Will it really be that difficult?”

“For me, yes. I’m not that strong, and without my father’s help I’m even weaker. And I don’t have the kind of knowledge about breaking and entering that your boyfriend likely does--after all, the police told me that there wasn’t any evidence they could find.”

“You were able to defeat that fae lady, though, right? So you can probably do this, too. No sweat.”

“That’s overly optimistic, but I appreciate it,” he looks at the clock, “it’s getting late. I should be going.”

“Yeah, Nikolas will probably be home soon, so you should skedaddle. No offense, but considering my, um, help tonight I’d rather he not know about you. You know, just in case.”

“Just in case,” Dominic agrees.

“I’ll walk you out,” Lark tries to stand, but can’t seem to muster up enough strength. “Sorry,” she blushes, “my center of gravity is all out of whack.”

“Let me help,” Dominic smiles and gently pulls her out of the chair. His hands are calloused, the roughness scratching against her soft skin. And once she’s on her feet, he doesn’t immediately let go.

“Thank you for telling me, Lark,” he says softly, “I know it couldn’t have been easy, and I apologize if I was too forceful. It’s just--I can’t emphasize how important it is that I retrieve those wands.”

“I understand,” she hesitates, “just don’t be too judge-y, okay? Not all of us lowly peasants are so moral.”

He laughs, “Of course. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Hey, you’re the one who should be focused on self-preservation. I’ll be fine,” Lark grins.

Suddenly the front door bursts open, causing Lark to quickly withdraw her hands from Dominic’s grasp. It’s Nikolas, of course, home from a night of hard, legally dubious work.

“Lark, are you--” Nikolas stops in his tracks when he notices Dominic, “oh. Who’s this?”

 “Dominic,” he holds out his hand, “a friend of Lark and her family.”  

Nikolas looks him up and down, his eyes narrowed, before he grabs his hand and shakes. “Never heard of you.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“So Lark hasn’t regaled you with tales of my greatness?”

Dominic looks at him blankly, “no.”

Nikolas laughs, but it’s forced, “fair enough.”

“Yeah,” Dominic raises an eyebrow, “anyway, I should leave. It was nice seeing you again, Lark.”

“Of course. Make sure to call next time you’re in town” Lark smiles a weak smile, “and be safe, Dom.”

Nikolas waits until Dominic is gone to speak again. “So who was that?” There’s an implicit douche at the end of his sentence.

“No one,” Lark smiles at him, “just an old friend of the family. I had some of his stuff that he left last time he visited, so he came to pick it up.”

“What did you have that was his?”

“Just some old books. Family heirlooms, I think,” Lark says casually. She watches his face for any sort of reaction, something that would prove he stole the scroll from Dominic’s collection. But his face remains blank.

How disconcerting.

***

It’s almost midnight, the witching hour. Not that Dominic believes in stuff like that. It’s just an idle thought that pops in his head during the long walk from Lark’s house to the hotel he’s staying at. He could teleport, sure, but he’d prefer to preserve his power, just in case. It feels like he needs to plan for a lot of just-in-cases right now.

Dominic has always been the kind of person to have a few plans up his sleeves, generic ideas as to what he would do in specific (and sometimes completely implausible) situations. And this situation--a vampire acquiring his family’s heirlooms for unknown but possibly megalomaniacal reasons--is no exception.

So a plan begins to form. Dominic knows he can’t beat a vampire in a fair fight. But he can draw said vampire’s ire to someone else. 

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