-Grandmother-
I wanted to run after Viktor. Cain and Harland didn't mean to upset him. But Cain held me back. I was grateful for it. I didn't have time to babysit right now.
"Do you have a plan, Mother?" Harland politely asked, removing Cain's hand from my wrist.
I turned back to my boys and nodded. I explained to them my plan to kill him. Harland only nodded taking it all in. Cain wasn't as accepting.
"You really think we can do this? This just isn't any old man we're facing, Ma."
I furrowed my brows. "It's all we have so far," I countered.
Harland sighed. "Should I get William?"
I nodded once and he was off. Harland was always a loyal and respectful boy. He was the only one who I have ever even mentioned Cyprio to. . .
My husband. I felt a pang of loneliness, followed by a surge of anger. He turned his back on me when I needed him the most. His own grandson, the grandson he actually met and was growing close to. He left not only me, but Vincent as well.
As we waited for Harland, Cain and I caught up. He was expecting a child. It was about time. He had been married for a few hundred years.
As Cain and I spoke, our conversation flowed more to me and my relationship. It made me uncomfortable, seeing as I had never told him about my husband. I only mentioned a name to Harland.
"Cain, I would rather not talk about your father, especially now."
Cain looked at me with a cynical tilt to his brow. "I think I'm old enough, and my kid deserves to have an answer when it asks about grandpappy."
I bit my lip, but I could hear Harland approaching. Which was mildly concerning, HIs feet were so light, it was hard for me to ever tell if he was even right behind me. I turned to face the door he was about to come through. It opened, but he was thrown through the door. I gasped. Cyprio was standing at the door. He had dropped Harland on the floor.
This part of Cyprio looked like his usual part: messy black hair, golden eyes, disheveled white shirt, and old jeans. The only difference is this one was stripped of his emotions. It showed my expression, no feeling. There was no sparkle in his eye and no tilt of his lips. I tried to match his mask of indifference. He strode over to us and Cain stepped protectively in front of me.
"Hey, man, you better leave," my son warned. In one fluid motion, Cyprio had struck Cain once and the man fell to the floor, unconcious.
"What have you come for?" I asked with ice in my voice.
"I haven't come to hurt anyone. Harland lead me to you. Avila, William. . ."
My blood ran cold. I caught a slight move of his lips, a change of light in his eyes. It was pure anguish. Something was very wrong. I stepped closer to Cyprio. "God dammit, tell me what's wrong. Drop the no emotions now!" I felt my eyes blur with oncoming tears, my hands shook, but reached up to clutch my husband's hand.
He didn't move. He didn't even feel warm under my fingers. "He is dead."
I kept my hand on his, even if he gave no response. My chest ached with the loss of my child. He may have done awful things, but I still loved him just as much as I loved any of my family members. I covered my face with my other hand and started sobbing.
Cyprio pulled his hand away from me and stepped back. I looked up at him, the tiniest bit of emotion on his face. Almost like a dam ready to burst. He looked at Harland, then to Cain, then to the floor Anywhere but me. "I have put a funeral in place. We will honor his death tomorrow morning."
"Cyprio. . ." I whispered.
He finally laid his golden eyes on me. His face didn't change, but he grabbed my hand. In his touch, he filtered a single image to me. He showed me in my mind. One single being, alone and surrounded by broken glass and blood. Tears fell openly from his eyes and he shook with pain. All he wore were a pair of bloody pants, openly showing every scar on his chest, every flaw he had. He let go of me after the image fluttered away. Then he was gone just like that.
I knew what that image was, and I don't really know how. It made me realize every action I have done, every word I have said, affects him as much as it affects me. He may have been godlike, but he felt like humans did. He had our emotions. My tears grew for him, the loss of not just my son, but our son. I have hurt Cyprio more than I could have ever hurt anyone. I was the only one with that much power over him, and I abused him.
Soon Cain and Harland stirred and both noticed me crying. When they asked what was wrong, I told them what happened. We had a funeral to attend.
