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Joseph drove the Expedition into her garage and shut off the engine.
Ophelia looked out the window as the garage door lowered. “Where’s Brandon’s body? It’s gone.”
“We’ll find him. Tristan, bring their things and help Bianca. Maya, stand guard.” Joseph gathered her mother up into his arms.
Bianca smashed a fist into Tristan’s face. “Ow.” She cradled her fist and glared at Tristan like it was his fault she’d punched him. “He’s hard as a rock.”
“Patience, son.” Joseph carried Mom out. “This family’s been through a lot.”
Tristan backed away.
Ophelia latched onto Bianca and lead her into the house.
Out in the cold, between the garage and the house, Maya leapt up into a tree as though it was a bush and perched there like a hawk.
Bianca gaped at her. She’d never seen an African American person in real life, much less a vampiric one. Only on television.
“Kiska.” Ophelia saw her dog’s body on the road, nearly covered in new fallen snow.
“They killed your dog too.” Tristan broke ranks to fetch the body.
“Please, wrap him up in his old blankets here on the porch.”
“Oh, my dog. They killed our dog. They killed our dog. Oh dog, oh dog.” Bianca wailed softly, hands pressed to her face.
Ophelia followed Joseph into the house and into the living room, trying to work past the shock and horror to think clearly about what to do next.
He laid her mother on the sofa and placed a pillow under her head with care.
“Get away from my mom.” Bianca shoved him aside, fell to her knees, and flung her arms around their mother.
“We’re home now. We’re safe.” Ophelia released a tense breath and glanced at Joseph. “Sorry.” She snatched an icepack from the freezer.
“Mommy.” Bianca cupped her hands around their mother’s battered face.
The blood sank away from Mom’s skin and the bruises evaporated. “Wha—?”
“Holy shit!” Bianca leapt back like she was on fire.
Mom gave her such a look. “You are so grounded for cussing, young lady.”
“What’d I do?”
“You healed your mother,” said Joseph. “You’re growing up, Bianca. Your father would be very proud of you.”
“Huh?”
Mom touched her face, blinked, sat up with arms bracing behind, and she glared at Joseph. “Who the hell are you?”
“Joseph MacGregor, at your service, Ma’am.” He even bowed.
“Oh, great, another blood-sucking dead guy.”
Tristan walked in. “I wrapped your dog up.”
“Any sign of Brandon?” Joseph turned away from Ophelia and her family.
“No, sir,” said Tristan, quietly. “Not a trace. He must’ve been taken by the Mallies.”
Ophelia clung to her mother’s arm. “The Newbloods killed him for protecting me.”
“Brandon?” Mom jumped right of the sofa and onto her feet. “Brandon!” She lunged for the door, but Bianca caught her.
“I’m so sorry, Ma’am. His sacrifice was a noble act.” Joseph’s expression was a mixture of pride and regret, but, strangely, not grief.
“A waste,” said Jean-Pierre. “I would have turned her instead.”
Joseph spun around.
Ophelia jerked up, surprised that such a powerful vampire did not sense the Malevolents’ approach. Maybe he was distracted.
Jean-Pierre appeared in the open front doorway. “She could have destroyed them all.”
“The Ice Princess defended herself and her family well enough,” said Tristan, instantly in battle stance.
Astonishment rushed through Ophelia like a great wind. “I saw you fall.”
Jean-Pierre winked. “I bounced.”
The Elder emerged from the shadow behind. “Hello, Ophelia, so good to see you again.”
Jean-Pierre’s lips slid into a smile. “Imagine her elven abilities enhanced by those of our kind.”
Joseph stepped between them and Ophelia and her family. He narrowed shining gray eyes on the Elder. “Edmund.”
“Joseph.” The Elder’s deep-set eyes shifted to her and remained there unblinking.
Maya suddenly appeared at Joseph’s side, evening out the balance of power.
In a rush of emotion, Ophelia stood, facing the Elder. “Get out of my house.”
“I will do as you wish, of course.” The Elder bowed and walked out.
Jean-Pierre’s brow rippled in confusion, and he followed.
Ophelia strode after them, directly out into the snow-covered front yard.
“Princess.” Joseph flanked her. “Wait.”
Tristan and Maya rushed to his other side in a blur.
Bianca and her mother trailed behind, off to his side. “Ophelia, what are you doing?”
“Where is Brandon?” Ophelia squared her shoulders at the Elder and propped hands on hips. “Return him to me now!”
Jean-Pierre held up Brandon’s gold raven cuff and tossed it to her.
“Not good enough, dammit!” Ophelia relished his startled expression.
But, then, six black figures whooshed in beside him and the Elder, more bad guys.
“You appear to be outnumbered, Princess.” Jean-Pierre glanced at his growing ranks of Malevolent Vampires. “Why not come with us now and spare your family the mess?”
“Tsk, tsk.” The Elder held up a hand to stop him. “There’s no need for violence today. We only wish to protect her highness from the Newblood Threat. Unlike Joseph, we are not encumbered by ethics unnatural for Oldbloods.”
The need to protect churned within Ophelia, burning within her core like scythes of ice, cutting towards her fingertips.
A greater need overtook her.
The Elder was the first to notice, his eyes blackening against the white streaked with red. His thin lips fell apart.
Jean-Pierre looked up the same instant a golden light grew behind Ophelia and brightened to silver and then white.
She turned to see.
The other black cloaked vampires staggered back from the Elder and Jean-Pierre.
“How dare you threaten my granddaughters?” The familiar voice rang in a regal tone previously unknown.
“Grandma!” Cried Bianca, and she laughed out loud.
Ophelia let go a breath.
Her elderly grandmother lit upon the snow beside her without sinking in, her wrinkles and gray hair peeling back to reveal a youthful blonde swathed in silver and white. Her deep eyes pierced with icy fire.
Warriors of light with flashing swords appeared on either side, one after another until a full guard closed ranks with their leader in a great clash of armor.
“Whoa.” Bianca clung to her mother.
“Queen Alva,” squeaked the Elder, bowing to Grandma and backing away. “We only wanted to help...of course.”
The newcomer Malevolents fled in bursts of snowflakes among bushes either side of him.
“Leave this territory.” Grandma spoke through gritted white teeth. “Or I shall have my champions hunt you down like trashy little voles.”
“As you wish.” The Elder bowed again to her, and then to Ophelia. “Princess.”
“Be gone!” Grandma pushed the air before her in a great ice storm.
The Elder and Jean-Pierre blasted into the far trees, the snow shaking down on them in a great shudder. They crawled out and vanished into the night.
“Holy shh-crap!” Bianca whirled around. “Can I do that too?”
“Grandma?” Ophelia watched the great queen shrink beside her, back into an elderly woman leaning on a cane for maximum effect.
Behind grandma, the ranks of elven warriors shrank and dimmed until there were only two, one on either side of her. One had dark red hair and was short, the other tall and brown-haired. They made no effort to hide their pointed ears. In fact, they’d smoothed their hair back to prominently display the points.
“Grandma.” Ophelia ran into her arms and hugged her tight. “They took him! Grandma, the Elder and Jean-Pierre took Brandon. Adrian and his sister, Perdy, they all have elf blood. They’re family. Can you get them back?”
Grandma cupped her face in both hands, smiling, eyes bright with tears. “No. I can’t.”
“But, you’re a freakin’ elf queen!” Tears washed Ophelia’s face.
“A very old freakin’ elf queen.” Grandma waved a flippant hand.
“You’re not supposed to get old. Elves are immortal.”
“Only in the movies, dear. Of course, we get old. Eventually. The immortality myth was started by humans because we’re so extremely long-lived. I’ll be 981 years old in a few weeks.” Her eyes saddened, losing their sparkle. “Your father was 122, so young.”
Bianca turned to their mother. “Geez, Mom, you really married an old dude.”
“Your father looked my age when I first met him.”
“But, Grandma,” said Ophelia.
“It is your destiny to find Adrian, Perdy, and Branden and bring them home, as well as others of our kind scattered throughout this world.” Grandma cupped Ophelia’s face in one hand and smoothed back her hair with the other. “Our species stands upon the brink of extinction and you will save them, you and your sister.”
“Me? But, I’m...nobody, I’m nothing.” A soft chuckle threw Ophelia off her emotional cliff. She blinked at the sound.
The short, red-haired elf stepped forward, a twinkle in his eyes, lips curled, focus on Ophelia. “No, Auntie. You’re one of the bravest, most powerful individuals I have ever known.”
“Bowen.” Grandma raised her eyebrows at him.
“Mom said Auntie knew about me at this point on the proper timeline.” A feeling of familiarity hung around Bowen like a golden cloak.
“You look just like my dad.” Ophelia managed a whisper.
“Thanks. Grandpa’s my hero.” Bowen wrapped his arms around her and hugged like she was the next best thing to his own, dear mama.
“’Grandpa?’”
Physically, Bowen appeared about the same age as her. “Everything’s going to be all right, Auntie.” He waved a hand about his face in a flamboyant flourish. “I’m living proof.”
“How?”
Grandma glared at the brown-haired elf taking a step forward. “Not you.” She thumped Bowen’s shoulder. “Send your father to patrol the outer perimeter and...” She glanced at the other one. “Remind him of his obligations.”
“Okay, Nana.” Bowen left them and walked over to the brown-haired elf, taking his arm. “C’mon, Dad, you know Mom’s just a kid in this time period and that’d be gross.”
The brown-haired elf hung his head, bright blue eyes wincing, and let himself be led away, his heartbreak hanging in the air.
Ophelia watched the two male elves walk into the snowy woods still cloaked in night and forgot to breathe.
Bowen’s presence remained vivid. You saw the Aurora Borealis proclaiming the Ice Princess. Only a few more years, Dad. Patience.
“Bowen’s such a nice boy,” said Grandma, all dewy-eyed and clutching hands to her heart. “I just want to squeeze his cheeks and bake him some chocolate chip cookies.”
“Why did he call me ‘Auntie?’”
“Come along.” Grandma wrapped an arm around her back and steered her towards the front door. “Let’s get you cleaned up before the questions. The answers are going to take a while.”