"I did not wish to kill him, but I was left with little choice," Aldric said quietly. A mug was put down by his elbow and Marc stepped back to the kitchen counter. Faith glanced over and realized that it was a steaming mug of water with a heavy-duty plastic bag full of something dark red sitting in it. It reminded her of how they had warmed the bags of breast milk Crissy had stashed in her freezer back when Kaylee was an infant.
Right. Okay then.
Faith sighed and sat back on her heels. She rubbed her now empty hands over her face and just breathed for a moment.
"Look," she said. "I'm not worried about the health and wellbeing of some violent kidnapping jackass. I am worried about the health and wellbeing of the apparent idiot that saved us this morning. I'm worried about my sister and about Kaylee, and about your clan people who are still out there in the woods with those kidnapping jackasses, going by the number of wolf howls I heard a little bit ago."
Faith dropped her hands into her lap and gazed back up at Aldric. She was tired and stressed and near tears again, knowing that he had been hurt badly by the people who wanted her and Kaylee for some reason. Not even the fact that she was watching the smaller wounds she had just cleaned out seal themselves up while she stared at them helped her feel better.
Marc came back to the table with three steaming mugs full of actual tea, and pulled a chair out for her. After a few sips of tea, she started to feel a bit steadier, though she did keep glaring at Aldric's bandages. She watched him poke a hole in the now warmed bag of blood and stick a small straw into it, like the world's grossest juice pouch, and take a long pull. His jaw relaxed slightly and his shoulders dropped a bit, and she sighed again. She was glad he was settling down, even if she thought it was kind of gross, and told her stomach to get over it when it squeezed at the whole idea.
"For now, I think the threat has passed," Aldric said after he set the empty bag back down on the table, on a paper towel Marc must have brought for exactly that purpose. "The two remaining wolves fled when Mia called the alert, and now they are fully aware that our clan has claimed all three of you. Before they ran, I demanded your sister's return, and they simply snarled at me, so I think we can safely assume that the wolves have her or know where she is,”
"I agree. I'm going to call your cousin in a moment and see if maybe he can start working tonight. It's not too late yet, and he's a night owl anyway. I don't want to let this go too long if I can help it," Marc said. "That being said, now that you're fortified, I want you to drink your tea and get some rest. Those wounds won't heal if you don't take care of yourself." Marc took a deep breath and turned to Faith. "Thank you. For being so accepting of my people and for taking care of my friend. For that alone I feel a kinship to you. You and yours are welcome in the Frostwalker Clan, should you choose to stay, and if you do not, you will still be considered friends and allies."
Faith blinked at the man. His voice and expression were both serious and formal, but she could still see the twinkle of humor in his eyes.
"Thank you, Marc. That means a lot to me. I don't really know much about your clan or your people, but everyone here has treated us with kindness and I can't thank you enough for your hospitality and protection," she said. Marc smiled and patted her hand gently, and then stood.
"I'll be in my office for about half an hour, if I can get hold of Leo. You two get some rest. If you both want to sleep in tomorrow, that's fine, I'll handle the kids." And with that the giant man left the kitchen.
"Come on, you big brute, let's get you tucked in this time," Faith said. She drained the rest of her tea, the bitter sweetness of the chamomile lingering on her tongue. For a brief flash she wondered how well it mixed with the metallic taste of blood.
"Hey," she asked, "Does blood taste gross and metallic to you? Or, like, does it taste like... I don't even know what to compare it to. Steak, I guess?"
Aldric stared at her, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "I suppose it tastes a bit like whatever the animal has been eating. Human blood certainly does reflect the diet of the person who donated it. Deer blood tastes gamey. I... I suppose I have never particularly thought about it."
"I guess you wouldn't. Huh. How do vampire babies drink blood? Are they like, born with fangs? Wait, do vampire babies drink blood? I mean, I'm making a pretty major assumption that vampire babies are even a thing, but–"
Aldric's laugh rolled through the kitchen and stopped Faith's rambling. She must be tired. Usually she was better at filtering her mental ramblings. Still, the sound of his laugh– especially after this long, bloody, mostly awful day– warmed her more than the tea had. She finished rinsing all the cups and hesitated briefly over the empty blood bag.
“We have a separate garbage for these," he said through his chuckles. He stood and pulled a small, lidded biohazard box from the top of the refrigerator. "We take anything we need to dispose of to the clinic in town once a
