Chapter 20: Hope's Birth Approaches
Two weeks later, Hayley was visibly pregnant and the supernatural world was losing its mind.
I met Elijah at a neutral location—abandoned building on the outskirts, where we could talk without Klaus's paranoia interfering.
"The witches are mobilizing," Elijah said without preamble. "Three covens have united with the single goal of destroying the child before birth. The werewolves are divided—some want to protect Hayley, others fear what Klaus might do with a hybrid heir."
"And the vampires?"
"Terrified. Marcel is trying to maintain control, but his people are anxious about what a tribrid means for the power balance." Elijah's expression was grim. "Everyone sees the child as either an asset to control or a threat to eliminate. Nobody sees her as simply a child."
"Except us."
"Except us." He pulled out a flask, took a drink, offered it to me. "When she's born, you'll undergo transformation. Correct?"
"Yeah. Probably similar to when Klaus broke his curse—my body will evolve to match hers. Vampire, werewolf, witch all integrating fully." I took the flask, drank. Bourbon. Good bourbon. "I'll be vulnerable. At least 48 hours, possibly longer."
"Then we ensure the compound is a fortress. Klaus will defend Hayley during labor. You focus on surviving your own evolution."
"What if the witches attack while I'm transforming?"
"Then Marcus guards you, Davina supports you magically, and I ensure Klaus doesn't accidentally kill you while you're incapacitated." Elijah's voice was firm. "We've survived worse odds."
"Have we?"
"No. But we'll survive anyway. We're rather good at that."
I handed back the flask. "Why are you helping me? Really? I'm not family. I'm just some vampire your parents tortured who happened to survive."
Elijah was quiet for a moment. "Because you remind me of what we could have been. If our mother had chosen differently. If we'd been created through choice instead of desperation." He met my eyes. "You're building something better than what we have. I want to see that succeed."
"Even if it means protecting me instead of Klaus?"
"Klaus has an army of hybrids and supernatural strength. You have Marcus and a warehouse. Who needs protection more?"
Fair point.
I spent the next week preparing.
Stocked the warehouse basement with thirty blood bags—enough to feed through the worst of the transformation. Set up magical wards with Davina's help, protection circles that would keep threats out. Arranged for Marcus to guard the entrance, armed with stakes and instructions to kill anything that got past the wards.
"You're really doing this," Davina said, watching me prepare. "Going through another transformation."
"Don't have a choice. Hope's birth will trigger it whether I'm ready or not."
"But you could run. Leave the city. Avoid the trigger entirely."
"And leave her unprotected? No." I sealed another blood bag in the mini fridge. "She's innocent. She deserves someone fighting for her who isn't doing it for power or politics. I'm that someone."
"You're also terrified."
"Terrified and committed aren't mutually exclusive."
She helped me arrange the last of the supplies. "What if you don't survive? What if the transformation is too much?"
"Then Marcus becomes head of my sireline. You get the warehouse and everything in it. And someone needs to make sure Klaus doesn't name his kid something stupid."
"Roy."
"I'm serious about the name. Hope is good. Hope Mikaelson. Don't let him go with something Nordic and unpronounceable."
"You're deflecting."
"I'm terrified, Davina. I spent three days transforming into a hybrid and nearly died. Becoming a full tribrid might actually kill me." I sat on the crate, suddenly exhausted. "But if I survive, I'll be powerful enough to protect her properly. And that's worth the risk."
She sat beside me. "You're a good person. Despite everything."
"Or just stubborn."
"Both."
We sat in comfortable silence until Marcus arrived for his guard shift. Davina left after making me promise to call if I needed anything. Marcus took position by the door, checking his weapons with the methodical precision of someone who took his responsibilities seriously.
"You ready for this?" he asked.
"No. But it's happening anyway."
"You'll survive. You're too mean to die."
"That's your professional opinion?"
"That's my observation after three weeks of being your vampire offspring." He grinned. "You survived a millennium underwater. You'll survive this."
I hoped he was right.
The night before Hayley went into labor, Elijah visited one last time.
He brought a bottle of bourbon—better than the last one, if that was possible—and two glasses. We sat on the warehouse roof, watching the city lights.
"You could have stayed hidden," he observed after we'd been drinking in silence for ten minutes. "Avoided this entire situation. Let my family handle the birth, kept yourself safe."
"I spent a millennium in darkness doing nothing. I'm done hiding." I refilled my glass. "This child deserves life. And I deserve to evolve past what your parents made me. That's worth the risk."
"Even if it kills you?"
"Especially if it kills me. At least I'd die doing something that matters instead of rotting at the bottom of the ocean."
Elijah raised his glass. "To uncertain futures and the courage to face them."
We drank.
The bourbon burned perfectly. The city sprawled below us, unaware that tomorrow everything would change. A tribrid would be born. Another tribrid would either ascend or die trying.
And the supernatural world would never be the same.
"Thank you," I said after a while. "For believing me. For helping. For being my friend when you could have been my enemy."
"Thank you for giving me a reason to believe in redemption. That family origins don't define us." He stood, straightened his suit. "Survive tomorrow, Roy. We have centuries of bourbon to drink and philosophy to debate."
"I'll do my best."
He left with a nod, disappearing into the night.
I stayed on the roof until dawn, watching the sky lighten. Tomorrow, Hayley would give birth. Hope Mikaelson would take her first breath. And I would either become a true tribrid or die in the attempt.
Worth it, I told myself. Whatever happens, it's worth it.
I went downstairs, sealed myself in the basement, and waited.
The bloodline connection hummed steadily. Hayley's contractions had started. Labor was beginning.
In hours, everything would change.
I lay on the cot, closed my eyes, and prepared to either evolve or die.
Here we go.
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