Fleeting Hope

Chapter 13

Damian's POV:

Raven had been quietly suffering during our walk, letting me scout the place. She never once said that her shoes where bothering her or that her arms were getting tired.

But as we sat at my mother's dinning table, I saw the small stains of blood on her shoes. She also rubbed her arms to soothe the pain as I rocked Emma in the stroller.

She was too hungry to even complain after we sat down. She gobbled down her sandwich and salad as my mother made small talk with her. One or two word answers would come from my wife's mouth, but Raven was so engrossed with food she didn't care about being polite.

I almost laughed just watching her.

"Damian," my mother turned her attention to me. "You should take better care of your wife from now on. She looks starved to death and while her body is still breast feeding, she had to eat a lot."

"I know mother," I was irritated by her advice. Who does she think she is? She doesn't have any right talking about parenting when she abandoned her only child.

"Damian," she sounded like she wanted to say more, but she shut her mouth. Good choice.

"How long do we have to stay here?" I wanted to talk business if we had to talk at all.

"As long as it takes to make sure they are safe," she looked to my wife and daughter.

"And how long is that?" Raven finally set down her fork. "How long, if ever, will it take to insure our safety? Because that is never guaranteed. And if anyone is a danger to my child, it is you."

"Raven," mother looked offended. "I was just trying to get to Emma before your father's men did."

"My father?" She seemed stunned.

"What do you mean," I leaned forward.

"That child is powerful. With Raven and Emma, you can win any war you set your mind to. Trigon knows and also knows that if he had Emma, Raven had no choice but to come too. A mother, even half demon, will always choose their child over all else."

"What?" I thought I must be mishearing her.

"Your wife is very maternal. That much is clear. But whoever has the baby will automatically have the mother. And yes, this child will always be strong, but Raven is rare. She is stronger than her own father. Normally as the generations grow, the power dies down. But that is not the case for Raven."

"Stronger than my father?" Raven questioned.

"Yes," mother nodded. "Emma isn't even as strong as you. But your mother was fae. She was powerful even without your father."

"Fae?" Raven repeated with disbelief.

"Why do you think you have such a strong kinship to the earth. You have to know." My mother leans forward.

"So, Emma is targeted because of my wife?" It sounded horrible, but the words left me before I had a chance to correct them.

"Because of me?" Raven turned to me, tears threatening to wash over. "Are you blaming me for our daughters kidnapping? The kidnapping planned by YOUR mother!?"

"Raven," I winced as I realize how upsetting my words were.

"No," she stands up and throws her napkin on the table. "I am finished."

She grabs Emma out of the stroller and starts walking out of the room. I stood but my mothers hand caught my arm.

"Damian, she needs time to cool off," my mother seemed sincere.

"But I need to explain that the words didn't come out as I intended them to." I tried to shake out of her hold.

"No," my mother shook her head. "Raven knows you don't blame her, but breast feeding and hormones from having a baby makes it hard to think sometimes. She just needs time. Please."

"How do you know so much," I turned to my mother, wanting answers.

"Because I had you," she seems proud of that fact.

"No, I mean how do you know so much about my wife and child," I shake my head, not wanting to get into mushy emotions.

"Because... your grandfather was very devoted to Trigon. He right hand at one point. And Trigon told him of these plans. Your grandfather told me before he passed." She explained before taking a large sip of wine.

"And what are your plans with them? If they are power, are you seeking it too?" I crossed my arms.

"I was," she nods. "That is why I took her. But things have changed and now I will do my best to protect that child."

"Why? What changed?" I didn't believe a word she said.

"She smiled at me. With bright green eyes, just like yours. And I felt something I haven't felt in a long time." She smiled down at her glass.

"What did you feel?" I couldn't help but want to know.

"Regret," she gave a sad smile. "Regret for leaving your behind and following my father's orders. I should have just stayed with Bruce. But I didn't trust him enough."

"Trust him to what?" What was she even saying? Why did I care?

"Trust him enough to believe we could make a difference in this world without bloodshed." She set down her glass. "He said that I didn't have to follow my father, but all I had ever known was blood."

"So you left because you didn't believe in a peaceful tomorrow?" I was so confused.

"I wanted to," she signed. "That's why I left you with him. Because if it was possible, he would have been able to give it to you."

Part of my wanted to fall into my mothers arms and tell her about how much I needed her. The other part of me wanted to yell at her. Tell her how shellfish she was. But I just remained silent.

"It should be fine now," my mother cleared her throat and gave an encouraging smile. "Go talk to your wife."

I nod, turning my back to her and walking out, too shocked and confused to argue. I couldn't demand more answers, because part of me didn't want to know.

I was scared.

If I knew more about her... would I want her in my life?