Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Traversing through these woods is child’s play to him. His memory is centuries long, plus he’d never forget the way to this place. Not in a million years. The sun shines brightly, yet all it does is mildly sting his skin. He can thank the red amulet around his neck for that. He’s mostly silent as he moves, woodland animals taking account of his predator status. They scurry away from him, cognizant of the danger he could bring. 

It’s as if he’s flying with how fast he runs, how high he jumps over fallen trees and pits dug by big animals. Grasping onto a tree, he climbs and climbs until he can view the town he’s trying to get to fully. Clarksdale.

He descends from the tree, opting to take a backroad into the town. He’s been gone for a long time. He doesn’t know how well received his presence would be. As he walks the dirt road, he hears groups of children laughing and people conversing. Clarksdale has always been a lively place rooted in community. When Remmick first got here, he had plans of turning everyone, vampire senses in a frenzy. It would be easy, and they would be powerless to do anything about it. 

But his beautiful songbird switched his tune. Made him see the beauty of humanity, what it meant to live, grow old, and die. He’s been alive so long he forgot what that felt like. The amulet day by day is reminding him of what that means, the thing slowly but surely sucking the life force out of him. It’ll take forever—but it’s doing it. The plus side to the amulet is that he can brave the sun as a vampire, as long as he doesn’t take it off. It’s bound to him. 

He’s only here to let Sammie know he finally found it, that it wasn’t a pipe dream. Four years is nothing to him, but that’s a long time to his songbird. Maybe time has healed the wounds he caused. 

He grabs a rabbit as he walks, biting into its neck cleanly, draining it dry. On his quest to find the practically fabled amulet sitting around his neck, he became the kind of vampire he would’ve deemed weak before, only feeding on animals. In some of the places he resided, he had to rely on his hunting skills to get some kind of blood, usually animal in nature. His songbird should be happy that he hasn’t had human blood in so long. He’s clean now. 

Soon enough, the dirt road winds into a complex of houses, all similar in nature. At the very end of the road sits a house he knows so well. A house he wants to live in, to exist in. Samuel Moore owns that house, and Remmick needs to see his songbird. Hold him. Sink deep into him, claim him again and again in that house. Remind him of Remmick. 

It’s been four years since Remmick terrorized Clarksdale, Sammie placating the vampire. And while Sammie was scared, he gave himself up willingly to be Remmick’s, to satiate the hunger of the wayward vampire.

His blood was special because of his griot status, a woman by the name of Annie proclaimed, never mind the fact that he was a ripe Omega. He could save the town, a town that’s fully aware of the supernatural. Certain towns were more in tune with those matters due to factors like location, the inhabitants, and the history of the land. Clarksdale was special, indeed.

Remmick shivers to himself as he thinks of Sammie’s wet heat, his whimpers, his screams of pleasure. He told Sammie he’d be back. That he wouldn’t do anything to the town again. That he would come back changed, because Sammie had changed him. 

Remmick had whispered those words into his skin, Sammie’s back turned away from him as he slept, sheets pooled delicately around his hips. Remmick had slipped out then, moon still high in the sky as he left Clarksdale, search for the amulet started. 

But he’s found it: Sol Invictus’ amulet. The fabled amulet that protects vampires like him from the sun. There are only a few in the world, and Remmick’s in possession of one. He’s done a lot just to get it, but it sits proudly around his neck, and he stands timidly in front of Sammie’s door. 

He doesn’t know if he should knock first. He’s decked out in a simple white shirt and brown slacks, thick boots on his feet. Wrapped around his head is a scarf to block out the sun, and the amulet is tucked into his shirt, still there but hidden all the same. 

A knapsack sits on his back, filled with supplies and clothes he needs. It’s simple. Unassuming. He hopes he looks normal, albeit his hair has grown out a lot. Last town Remmick was in, he realized he could use a good shave. But he looked different than four years ago, and that’s what he really needed. To not be seen in the same light as his past. 

Before he can muster up he courage to knock, he hears child-like laughter from the backyard. It sounds tinkly and light, and a bone-deep string inside of him tugs. In his earlier years of being a vampire, he very much focused on amassing his Hive, the thread between him and every vampire he created.

He wanted a strong Hive, which equaled a strong family. Over time, he resented the responsibility, so he let the tight grip on his Hive go, all his wards going out to do their own things in the world. He can still feel them all if he tries, can find where they’re at, bring them back into fold if needed. 

But for the longest there was a tug that couldn’t be explained. One that was…child-like in nature. Remmick explicitly remembers never turning a child, something the Althing—an ancient vampire council—would never let slide, ordering his staking immediately. Most vampires did what they wanted, caused ruckus wherever they saw fit, but turning children was against the Althing’s law. It was immediate death for that. So Remmick has been confused to say the least at this feeling buzzing in his Hive, so young in nature. 

He’s quiet as he sneaks towards the backyard, eye catching Sammie immediately. His breath stutters, undead heart swelling as he watches his songbird. Four years older and no less beautiful. 

His dark skin glistens in the sun, a billowy yellow shirt hanging from his neck and shoulders. His hair has grown, gorgeous curls like a halo around his head. Red shorts grace his hips, and his feet are bare as he runs around the backyard, chasing a little boy. The boy has tan skin, hair in adorable tiny curls as well. His cheeks are fat and his laugh is pure, running fast on his little legs away from Sammie. 

“I’m gon’ catch ya! You gotta run faster than that!” His songbird taunts, the young boy giggling as he tries to dodge Sammie’s embrace. The child has no such luck, laugh pitched so high as he squeals in glee when Sammie picks him up and throws him in the air, catching him easily. 

Remmick’s first thought is the child looks a lot like Sammie. Too much like Sammie. He wonders if that child is his songbird’s. His second thought is being filled with (a rather misplaced) rage at the thought of anyone else having him in that way. Spawning life with him, the child having the audacity to be cute. Fuck. At least the child looks like Sammie. 

When Sammie sets the child down, Remmick can see the child’s smile. There’s something unmistakable there, something that practically stops his undead heart right in its tracks. 

The child has fangs. Vampire fangs. 

It’s not possible. Well, it’s sort of possible. Everyone has a second gender: Alpha, Beta, and Omega. Remmick terrorized Clarksdale four years ago due to his rut terrorizing him,  vampire cycles spanning longer periods than a human’s. Vampire heat/rut cycles hit every four years, and Remmick practically collapses on the side of Sammie’s house, feeling the strange want to bawl like a baby.

Four year cycle. Four years ago.

Remmick’s cycle for this four years has already come and gone, he forcing himself in a cave and fucking his own fist, bearing the pain until it was over. Ever since he had Sammie, there’s really no one else he’d rather spend his rut with, and besides…he had a mission to complete, and not even his rut would get in the way of that. When he was a young fledgling, he was reckless, knowing that vampire hybrids could only be made during the four year cycle. Otherwise, vampires were impotent, only fucking for pleasure. 

Vampire hybrids weren’t illegal by the Althing’s rules, but they weren’t necessarily welcomed. Careless fucking idiot. His rut saw Sammie as the perfect partner, because it was either he have Sammie or he drinks the entire village dry, fucking his way to another town to find a willing Omega. Gorging oneself on blood was a sure fire way to curb the heat/rut, and Remmick was prepared. Clarksdale would’ve been a great edition to his Hive. 

But Sammie. Sammie, who now has his fucking child in his arms, tickling him and making him giggle into the air. Remmick can’t believe that tug, that pull is from his child. His son. 

“Is he mine?” He stupidly asks, pulling himself out his hiding spot. Sammie and the young boy both turn their heads to look at him. Sammie’s in shock, while the young boy smiles at him like he knows him. Maybe some deep part of him does. 

“Papa! It’s Daddy!” The young boy shouts, leaving Sammie’s arms and running towards his. Remmick doesn’t know what to do. He’s speechless, body frozen as the young boy hugs his legs. 

“Zion, get over here! Now!” Sammie yells, voice sharp and authoritative. The young boy pouts, but listens to his other father, hurrying back to his side. Sammie’s quick to pick the boy up in his arms, eyes tight with anger and disbelief. 

“How you out here right now?” He questions. 

“I found it, songbird. The amulet. I told you I’d find it and come back to you.” 

“You been gone too long. You left me, just fuckin’—“ Sammie stops, hanging his head and sighing. “You left me out to dry after doin’ what you did. And I knew—I knew what I had to do. You ain’t the first beast that’s dropped into Clarksdale and you won’t be the last. But I thought…” He trails off, looking lost for a second. 

“Never mind. Doesn’t matter. You can go now.” Remmick frowns, scratching at his beard. 

“You know I can’t leave, now. Not after seein’ this.”

“Get the hell on, demon! Nice to know you can walk out in the sun and not die. You can do more foul shit in the daytime. But if that’s all, you need to get before everyone else sees you. They’ll try and stake you.”

“Let me see my son.” Sammie laughs, the sound awful to the ears. 

“Don’t even start that mess. You had no idea you had a son until now!”

“I felt—somethin’ in my Hive. Didn’t know what it was, but now I know. It’s him. He knows who I am because of the Hive. He’s a dhampir.” A human-vampire hybrid. His son was a dhampir. 

“You’ve seen him. Now get!”

“Sammie. Please.”

“You never even called. Never sent a letter. Never tried to get in contact. Just left after…after it all. Get away from my fuckin’ house!” Remmick sinks to his knees in front of Sammie, pleading. 

“Just…just let me stay the night. I’ll leave in the morning, I swear. I just—please.” 

“Let him stay, Samuel.” A feminine voice says, Remmick turning around. Annie. The hoodoo priestess, a woman with immense power in the town of Clarksdale. She’s the one who knew what to do to satiate his rut, get him to calm the hell down so he wouldn’t rip through the place with his fangs. Sammie trusts her word. Hope sparks in his chest. 

“Annie, why should I do that?”

“He might be a bastard, but all children deserve to know they parents.” Sammie turns his head in anger, knowing there’s some truth to her words. 

“Besides…he out in the sun. Somethin’ must’ve changed about him for that to be the case. Don’t imagine you got that amulet through bein’ nice, did you?” Remmick’s eyes widen. How’d she know about that? Of course she’d know about that. 

“I did a lot of things, but I haven’t had human blood in a while.”

“Can smell it on you. Animal. That’s good. Samuel, open the door.” Annie orders, waving her hand around. Sammie, practically powerless to disobey her, reluctantly opens the back door to his house. 

“I oughta make you stay out here, never invite you in.”

“You know I’d stay here all night, darlin’.”

“Do not call me that. I mean it. C’mon before I change my mind, Annie be damned.” Sammie snaps, turning away from him completely and walking inside. Remmick follows behind, excitement zipping through his system despite the situation. 

The house looks the same as it did the last time he was here, although there’s evidence of a child living here. Toys, drawings on the walls, mysterious stains in places only a child would think to be. He never, ever thought of himself as father material. But now he wants nothing more than to start, to learn what it truly means to be a dad. 

“Zion, go sit on the sofa. Play with your toys. Gotta talk to Annie.”

“Can Daddy play wit’ me later?” Sammie stares at his son, puzzled.

“How you know he’s your Daddy?”

“I can feel it. In here.” Zion points to his chest. 

“The Hive. It’s internal.” Remmick answers, pointing back. Zion grins so wide, and Remmick can think nothing but how beautiful he is. He looks like Sammie. He was destined to be gorgeous. 

“You three got a bond. It’s interestin’ to see.” Annie muses, looking between the three of them. Sammie shoos Zion away, and the young boy goes to the couch, toys in hand. 

“When’d you have him?” Remmick asks, wanting to know everything. Sammie scoffs. 

“The Hive must not be so strong. You ain’t feel shit. His birthday’s April 18th. He’s a spring baby.” 

“Why’d you name him Zion?”

“I like the name. It’s biblical in nature. Daddy woulda had a fit if I ain’t name him somethin’ from the bible. We came to middle ground on Zion.” Zion plays with plastic toy cars, crashing them into each other. A big dog Remmick doesn’t remember Sammie having walks from upstairs, plopping down next to the young boy. 

“Why are you here, Remmick?” 

“I wanted to show you that I meant what I said. You were the one for me, I had to go find that amulet. I’ve made a lot of enemies, but it was all worth it. I can walk out in the sun with you. With him. I can be—“ Sammie cuts him off with a cackle. 

“You thought findin’ that amulet was gonna make up for the four years you were gone? I’ve been a parent for four years! Zion by the grace of God knows who you are, but you don’t know anything about him! I had to suffer, to—to figure all this shit out on my own! Now cause you got some magic amulet you think you can swoop in and be the hero? Are you crazy!” Sammie scowls at him, angry beyond belief. 

“I ain’t ever cussed this much in front of him! You got me all out of sorts.”

“I didn’t think about the possibility of getting you pregnant, I just…needed the rut to stop. I’m not tryin’ to be the hero of anything. I just wanna know who he is.” 

“And you will know who he is. ‘Cause I’m bindin’ you to this town.” Annie declares. Remmick furrows his eyebrows. 

“You’re gonna what?”

“Divination told me your presence was gon’ be here, so I waited. When you showed up, I wasn’t surprised. Too many towns around here have been hit by a Blight. Sure, Clarksdale and neighboring places are a hotbed of supernatural activity—it’s partly why my abilities so strong—but we ain’t never seen nothin’ like this Blight. We need to be prepared. You’re stayin’. You got more than one reason to now, anyways.”

“Annie, what the hell are you talkin’ about? Does my Daddy know?” 

“Everybody who’s spiritually inclined knows. Defenses are already bein’ created, prayers bein’ recited. It’ll just help us havin’ a very powerful vampire to sic on the ghouls that get past em’.” 

“I’ve heard of Blights before.” Remmick confesses. “Happens when the veil between ours and the spirit world gets thin. Too thin. Clarksdale is in a place where supernatural activity is present…but why now? Y’all should’ve had a Blight before.” 

“That’s the thing. Somebody’s bringin’ it along. Don’t know who. You gon’ help me find em’, vampire. I knew you was comin’ back for Sammie. Why not kill a few birds with one stone?” Remmick can do nothing but smirk at her. 

“Smart lass.” Annie nods, grinning herself. 

“Always. Don’t worry, Sammie. He don’t gotta sleep here if you don’t want him to, but he gon’ have to help the town. We not tryna ring the bell on this Blight before it actually get here, but we gotta be prepared. If we find out who’s usin’ magic to bring it here and why, we can stop it before it gets too much to handle.” Sammie rolls his eyes, watching as his son presses the button to turn on the television in the living room. 

“Clarksdale is so annoying. Why is it always somethin’, huh? Just last year that weird fae man came through, tryna snatch unmarried women!”

“These the cards we been dealt. We learn to deal with em.’” All three of them are silent, letting the information sink in. Zion giggles at something on the tv, dog barking as well. 

“You really thought us sharing your rut wasn’t gonna end in me bein’ pregnant?” Sammie questions, voice small.

“Vampires are only able to do that during our rut or heat cycles, but it never even crossed my mind. I was caught up in nothin’ but you, songbird. I’ve lived this long without siring a child…I didn’t know you’d take.” 

“You two special. Two magical beings who don’t understand the power they wield, and the ritual we do to keep the town safe from beasts like you can increase fertility. Sammie was green behind the ears when you mounted him. You surprised a child came from that?” Annie admonishes, shaking her head. “Alphas are all the same. Only thinkin’ with they knot, not they head.” Remmick has the decency to look a bit embarrassed, and Sammie smiles to himself, obviously pleased at his discomfort. 

“You sleep on the couch. You not invited upstairs.” Remmick can feel the command take over, and he nods. He won’t be able to go up there. 

“Understood. And the people in town…”

“They’ll be wary of you, but everyone knows you Zion’s sire. The boy got fangs. Wasn’t hard for everyone to put two and two together. Long as you try, you’ll be fine.” 

“Annie. If we’re doin’ this, imma need you to bless some pickled garlic juice.” Remmick blanches from where he’s standing. 

“Why do you need somethin’ like that, sugar?”

“In case you piss me off. And don’t call me that.”

ˏˋ °•* ⁀ ➷

The first thing Remmick learns about his son is he loves to sing. It melts his non-beating heart, having such a trait like Sammie. He can feel his songbird’s discomfort with him being here, but he bears it for how happy Zion is. 

Remmick decides to focus more on that pull, and when he really examines it, he can feel Zion so strongly, knows he’s right beside him. He can feel his son, but he cannot manipulate him like other members of his Hive. That’s Sammie’s doing, he’s sure. Remmick wasn’t able to manipulate Sammie either. He was just the perfect Omega. 

The second thing he learns is his son loves bath time. With the way Sammie’s house is set up, there’s a small communal bathroom downstairs, and every other one is upstairs attached to a room. 

With Remmick banned from upstairs, Sammie decided to give Zion a bath downstairs, allowing Remmick to spend time with his son. Remmick’s kneeling beside the bathtub, water full of soapy bubbles and Zion splashing around, plastic toys bobbing above the surface. 

“This is Captain Dewey Duck, Daddy! He the coolest duck to ever live, sailin’ the six seas!” Zion declares, pointing to a rubber duck with a sailor hat on its head.

“Seven seas, peanut.” Sammie corrects, standing behind Remmick, watching them. 

“Papaaaa! It’s six, I told you! Dewey don’t live where we live!”

“That may be true, but it’s seven when you go to school, okay?” Zion nods, splashing around in the water again, content. The child’s so slippery Remmick can barely get a hold on him to wash behind his ears. 

“Heavens, lad, be still!” Remmick mutters, Zion finding his difficulty with the task extremely amusing. Sammie does too, if the way he chuckles behind his back says anything. Remmick finally gets his son to stop acting like a worm in dirt, washing him up good. He gently lets the water run through his hair, finger-combing it softly. 

“He really did get the best parts of you, didn’t he?” Remmick admires, smiling at his son. He has prominent dimples when he smiles. The cutest little thing. 

“He got your eyes.” Sammie comments back, and Remmick sees it. When he looks at his son, it’s like he’s looking at himself. Pulling Zion out of the water, he quickly wraps him up in a towel, holding the baby in his arms.

“You finna put on his clothes, too. He gon’ want you to read him a story.” Sammie leaves the bathroom, Remmick following him with a handful of Zion. The big dog from earlier is curled up by the television, soundly resting. His name tag says Gibson. They all sit on the large couch, Sammie passing him a small pajama set. Zion squeals abruptly, scaring the shit out of him. 

“What? Are you hurt?”

“It’s my favorite pajamas! The ones with dinosaurs on ‘em! This is the best day ever!” He never knew kids could be this slippery even outside of the tub. Zion refuses to stay still, young body buzzing with happiness as Remmick struggles to put on his clothes. 

“Is he potty trained?” Remmick questions, Sammie silently showing him how to slide the pull-ups on him. Sammie nods. 

“Yeah, he is. Pull-ups are for if an accident happens at night. You live and learn.” Remmick feels the slight weight to his words, of sleepless nights and crying babies. 

“Sammie. You know I would’ve been here had I known.” Sammie’s eye twitches, a scoff coming out of his mouth. 

“You came to Clarksdale demanding an Omega or else you’d drink the town dry. Annie and her helpers had to set up the ritual fast just to calm you. I knew when they knocked on my door it was for…somethin’. How could I have known that? You were practically feral, you had me in that bed for days.” 

“The times the rut didn’t have a hold on me…we talked. We learned things about each other. I’m not the guy to shirk responsibility when it comes to this. Wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“When I woke up you were gone. No note, no nothin’. You were gone and I was pregnant. I had no way to contact you. I would’ve known? Don’t make me kick you outside, demon.” 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for it. Understand?” 

“Ha! That really will be forever.” Sammie gets up and walks away, feet loud as he climbs up the stairs. That leaves Remmick alone with his son, and Zion peers at him with his big eyes. 

“Are you gonna stay here?”

“Yeah. I’ll be downstairs.”

“Does Papa hate you? He tells me not to hate people, but he seemed mad at you.” Remmick sighs. 

“It’s complicated, leanbh.”  He is not explaining the complexity of their relationship (or lack thereof) to his son. He wouldn’t even understand it. “ But he is angry at me. It’s important I apologize, fix what made him so angry at me. You should do the same with your friends.” Remmick internally nods at his own words. That feels like something a parent would say.

“The other day Jace was mad at me ‘cause I took chips off his plate durin’ lunch, and the teacher made me say sorry. You do the same with Papa.” Sammie jogs back down the steps, a thin book in his hand. He plops back down on the couch, passing it to Remmick.

“Go on. Read it to him. It’s one of his favorites.” Remmick looks at the book, eyeing the title. A Bad Case of Stripes.  Zion wiggles his way between both of his parents, hands on his little belly waiting to be read to. Remmick turns the first page, slowly reading it for Zion, who eagerly listens. 

“Camilla Cream loved lima beans. But she never ate them…” 

By the time Remmick finishes, Zion’s eyes are closed, his breathing silent as he’s fallen asleep. Probably from all the excitement. Remmick sets the book on the coffee table, brushing his hand across his son’s baby-soft face. 

“Stop the lights, I’ve got a son. Jesus. My son.” The tears flow like rain now, Remmick wiping them away lightning fast. Sammie still sees it, scooping Zion in his arms. 

“You’re lucky he likes you. But I suppose he ain’t old enough yet to be mad you been gone all this time. Unfortunately for you, I’m old enough.”

“I’ll do everything to make it up to you.” Remmick repeats with conviction. “Watch. You’ll be in love with me from how good I do. You’ll see.” Sammie cackles at his words.

“Fat chance, demon. Good night, I guess.” Sammie walks away with Zion in his arms, turning off the light in the living room. Remmick leans against the couch, thumbing the amulet between his fingers. 

He dozes off like that, thoughts of his little family sleeping upstairs permeating his mind.

Chapter Text

As morning comes, Remmick battles with the notion that he should’ve sent Sammie a letter, at the very least. He was just so consumed by his mission, barely taking time for himself while looking for this amulet. Remmick had to kill a lot of powerful vampires just to obtain it. He did catch the attention of the Althing, but Remmick didn’t really care. They could say whatever they want. That amulet was going to be his.

Even while he sleeps, it’s as if something is perpetually awake in a vampire, so he can sense when someone’s coming close to him. Tiny hands place themselves on his chest, and a weight settles across his lap. When he cracks an eye open, he’s faced with Zion, crust in his eyes and around his mouth, hair askew on his head, but smile bright.

“Wake up, Daddy! It’s time to get ready!” Remmick blinks a few times, stretching his hands above his head. He’s got a crick in his back, and he distantly thinks how nice it’d be to sleep in a bed. The command set by Sammie prevents him from going upstairs, but he wishes he could get the spare bedroom, at least.

“Ready for what?”

“School, dummy.” Sammie hisses, his songbird in a fuzzy robe, moving on autopilot straight to his coffee machine. “Your son’s in kindergarten.” The dog (which he now realizes is a Mastiff) Gibson comes towards Remmick, sniffing Zion’s hand and licking it. His son squeals, petting Gibson on the head happily.

“I can’t bring you with me, no matter how many times I beg Papa.” Zion says, frowning.

“Your classmate Millie’s scared of dogs, peanut. Gibson would scare her.” Zion gasps, nodding.

“You right, Papa! Daddy, there’s a girl in my class named Millie that’s scared of dogs. I think she’s also scared of cats, too.” Remmick rubs a hand up and down his son’s back, smiling.

“That’s nice, son.”

“Zion, go brush your teeth, please.”

“But I already did!” Sammie frowns at his son over a hot cup of coffee.

“You want me to do a breath check? Don’t get in the habit of lyin’. Go upstairs.” Zion pouts, running upstairs with Gibson following him. Remmick fully sits up now, watching as the sun filtering through the blinds hits his songbird just right. There’s remnants of sleep on his face, but he looks absolutely beautiful standing there, snuggled in his robe tightly.

“I’m a lucky bastard. My child’s father is gorgeous.” Sammie blinks a few times, coffee cup jiggling in his hand.

“Can it, fool. Go take a shower and put on some new clothes. You look a mess.” Sammie walks away then, yelling after Zion to put on his own clothes. Remmick does as instructed, showering in the downstairs bathroom. There’s soap that smells like his songbird, and that shouldn’t get him hard, but here he is.

“When have I ever cared about bein’ a perv?” He whispers to himself, palming himself to thoughts of he and Sammie on that fated day.

“I want you on top this time, darlin’, okay?” Sammie, sweaty and absolutely exhausted, can do nothing but nod, hiking his body weight on top of Remmick, sinking down on him and rocking his hips back and forth. Remmick guides his movements, absolutely hungry for the gorgeous Omega. 

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes, Alpha!” Remmick grips Sammie like he’s his lifeline, angling his hips up and thrusting deep.

“Yeah, you not gon’ have another Alpha after me. Oh no, you gon’ be mine forever.” He nips at Sammie’s neck, far gone but not far gone enough to bite and turn him, maybe even mate him.

“Go deeper, Alpha—please!” Sammie begs, hips stuttering, gushing all over his torso.

“You’re a water fountain ain’t you? My sweet lil’ thing, you can come again. I want it.”

“Jesus.” Remmick in the present day whines, hand tightening around his dick. He feels it building inside of him, pinches a nipple just to get closer, and closer—

“Hurry up in there! Water ain’t cheap, and you gotta take yo’ son to the bus stop!” Sammie yells, banging on the door.

“Gimmie a second—“ Remmick yells back, breathless. There’s a pause where Sammie doesn’t say anything. Then he groans.

“You unbelievable. In my shower?”

“You gon’ get in here and help me out?” Remmick focuses despite the pleasure zinging in his system, listens to Sammie’s heartbeat. It gets faster, his blood rushes through his body just a bit faster than usual. Remmick smiles.

“You got five more minutes. I’m settin’ a timer! Freak!” Sammie yells back, not answering. He hears his footsteps leaving the door, and Remmick twists his hand across the head, leans against the shower wall, and comes, stifling his moans for his son’s sake. He watches as it washes down the drain, quietly lamenting about other places it could’ve went.

He quickly dries himself off and slips on clothes, definitely planning on taking a trip into the heart of town and buying a razor. The beard has to go.

When he opens the door he sees his son standing there, backpack latched tight to his form and smile on his face.

“Yay! Papa and Daddy are here!” Sammie gives a small, genuine smile back to his son. Sammie’s dressed in a cream button-up, khaki slacks and oxfords on his feet. A green cardigan is tied around his neck, and glasses rest on his face. Remmick wants to eat him whole.

“Where are you goin’?” Remmick asks. Sammie snorts.

“To my job, which is how I pay for this house. I’m at the music shop owned by Slim.” Remmick nods, remembering the older man.

“He was someone who knew what I was immediately, too. You work for him, now?”

“I work the shop durin’ the day, and teach the kids guitar in the evening after they’re out of school. It’s an honest livin’. Dreams of leavin’ the town were put on pause by this little guy.” Sammie squeezes Zion’s shoulder, his son happily turning his face into Sammie’s side. Remmick feels a pang of guilt thrum through his system. Sammie had dreams and aspirations before Remmick came and absolutely fucked them up.

A woman long, long ago called him the most selfish creature to walk the planet, but Remmick had ignored her words. He believed vampires were selfish by nature, the very core tenants of vampirism not allowing thought beyond the self. Sammie changed his ways, but the full force of that woman’s words hits him now.

He knows Sammie’s an amazing singer—an otherworldly singer—and he knows the man wanted to take his songs on the road. Now, he has a child to feed and nurture. He wonders if Sammie’s even in school still, if he decided to go to college.

Sammie must absolutely hate him, hate his guts. He wouldn’t be surprised if the man staked him at night. Sammie’s the only person on Earth that could stake him and he wouldn’t fight back; he’d just let it happen.

“Zion! Let Gibson’s collar go, boy, you know better! He not comin’ with you on the bus!” Sammie scolds, Zion scowling at his father while letting Gibson go, the dog curling back into its resting spot by the television. Remmick gets out of his own head while scratching his beard.

“Do you hate me?” Sammie closes his eyes, opening his front door and ushering his son out.

“Does it look like I have time for that shit? C’mon, we gotta get him on the bus.” Zion tries to sprint to the end of the road, but Sammie calls for him immediately.

“Walk, peanut. Not run. Gotta be careful.”

“But Jackson’s runnin’!”

“Jackson’s mama just don’t give a damn.” Sammie mutters, shaking his head. “Walk beside your Daddy.” That placates Zion enough, the little boy grabbing at Remmick’s hand. Remmick holds it, and gets a weird feeling in his stomach.

This is a life pretty much every Alpha dreams of, Omega with child, and he has it. He’s had it for a while, he just didn’t know about it. He doesn’t know if he can be a good enough father to Zion. How will he explain vampirism to his son?

He has no clue what signs the boy’s exhibiting. His fangs aren’t descended from his mouth right now. Maybe he knows when to do that, Sammie teaching him. But there’s so much more for him to learn. Is he capable of being a good parent for Zion?

“I know that look.” Sammie comments, Remmick blinking and paying attention to his surroundings.

“What?”

“The look where someone’s about to peel off.” They get to the end of the street, a group of parents with their kids waiting on the bus.

“Oh, hello, Samuel.” A woman with bleach blonde waves greets. It sounds fake. Sammie gives a forced smile, waving at her.

“Hey, Jessica.” A very rowdy boy is jumping up and down next to her. Zion waves to the boy, and he waves back. Remmick can see the name Jackson printed on his backpack.

“How’s your morning going? Oh, is this who I think it is? After all this time?” Jessica gushes, looking at Remmick up and down. He’s not lesser than this woman—quite the opposite—but her gaze is making him feel small. He frowns at her.

“Yep. Zion’s father.” Sammie quickly answers, head peering around, hoping the bus comes.

“Can’t believe we see the man in the flesh! Well, he’s more than man. How are you out here, by the way, considering the fact we all know what you are and what you wanted to do.” Remmick’s eye twitches. He fixes her with a stare, flashing his eyes red.

“You don’t wanna know how I’m out here. It could curse you forever.” Jessica’s eyes widen, and she takes a step back, gathering herself. The bus squeaks down to the end of the street, hissing and stopping, doors swinging open for the children. Zion tells them both goodbye, bouncing up the steps in a way only a child could. He sits in a seat to himself, and he waves and waves until the bus leaves, becoming a speck down the road.

Parents begin to walk to their own houses, and Jessica scowls at them.

“I don’t care that Clarksdale is a weird town. Your son is not normal, just like his Alpha is not normal.”

“You don’t look normal either, but I didn’t comment about it. Fuck off.” Remmick snaps, taking Sammie’s wrist and dragging him back to the house. Jessica sputters indignantly behind them, but Remmick’s not wasting anymore words on that foul woman. He slams the door, leaning against it with red eyes.

“I’ll bite her. Snap her neck. Say the word.” Sammie puts his hands up.

“Jesus Christ, it ain’t that serious!”

“She always say shit like that?” Sammie looks away, body language closed off.

“She and others. It’s been like that since I got pregnant. After Zion, it didn’t end. Bunch of Omegas makin’ comments as if they could understand me. They can’t. They don’t. I saved the town from you and yet they still talk.”

“Sugar, I’m sorry—“

“Save it. I don’t wanna hear that, it can’t do nothin’ for me.” Sammie demands, eyes like steel. “I’m droppin’ you off at Annie’s. She gotta…bind you to the town or whatever.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Sammie heads into the kitchen, grabbing his keys. Before he can open the door again, Remmick grabs his arm gently, the two of them face to face.

“I’ll always stick up for you. You got the short end of the stick with havin’ a vampire as a sire, but that don’t mean imma let anyone talk to you any kind of way. That won’t happen as long as I’m here.” Remmick hopes Sammie can hear the sincerity in his words. Sammie stares at him a few seconds, then nods.

“Alright. Now quit holdin’ me up, I got a job to go to.”

ˏˋ °•* ⁀ ➷

“You sure you don’t wanna stay behind and see how it all works? Imma let you be an audience this time.” Annie goads, smiling. Sammie shakes his head, eyes wide.

“Annie, I stepped away for a minute to let Slim know why I’m late and you got him tied up like a hog. You takin’ the binding quite literally.”

“It’s physical but it’s also symbolic. When I’m finished, he won’t be able to leave the town unless he’s with one of us.” Sammie quickly drove Remmick to Annie’s place, her special shack located in the backyard of her and Smoke’s house. Sammie’s infamous twins were up north handling business.

Remmick’s not really looking forward to when they come down. If his memory serves him correctly, they were no-nonsense men, and Remmick’s aware he brings nothing but nonsense with him. He’s already anticipating the ass whooping they’ll give him.

As Sammie drove them there in relative silence, his phone rang. He let it ring, Remmick getting a glance at the caller ID. Jedediah Moore: Sammie’s preacher father.

“You gonna answer that?” Remmick had asked. Sammie shook his head.

“Not in the mood to deal with judgement. I ain’t been to church in a hot minute. Been pullin’ more hours at Slim’s, helpin’ out Bo and Grace, too. He wants me to go back to playin’ for the congregation.”

“And he’s judging you because…”

“Because I keep shootin’ him down. Not even Mama could get me to do it. I don’t feel like I can do that now. Not after what happened between us.”

“But Omegas—“

“It ain’t about that. It’s the fact that you a demon. I slept with the devil and had a baby. Some of the congregation treat Zion weird, and my father can’t understand why I don’t want him around that. My son is perfect just the way he is. I don’t give a damn about nothin’ else.”

Remmick could hear the pain and anger in his songbird’s voice, and based on the earlier conversation with Jessica, it seems many in town hold this sentiment. More and more guilt. If he was like his other vampire acquaintances, he wouldn’t give a shit. But he loves Sammie, loves Zion, so it hurts him to hear these things.

It’s why he’s now laid out on Annie’s table, bound from head to toe in red rope. Anyone normal would think this was some kinky BDSM play, but Annie wrapped the rope with intention. When she finishes her chants, he will be bound to Clarksdale, unable to leave without permission. He doesn’t find it all that different from being barred from entering spaces without permission. Clarksdale is just a really big house.

Annie’s voice gets louder and louder, Sammie shrinking in the corner from the volume. Neither one of them can understand what she’s saying, but Remmick can feel her commands take place, the magical weight of them settling over his body. It’s evident when she finishes, her hands raised, eyes wide open, and the lights flicker in the shack. The shack itself shakes from the force of her magic, and Sammie shouts a bit, holding onto the wall for dear life.

She quickly unbinds the vampire, and when Remmick stands up, it’s as if a physical ball and chain has been placed on his ankle. It’s not visible to the naked eye, but Remmick can feel its energy.

“You done?” Sammie asks, standing at full height himself. Annie nods.

“Yep. You not gon’ be able to leave.”

“I can feel it. It’s been set.” Remmick tells her, shaking out his left leg. He’s no stranger to a spell being casted on him, a binding spell being performed on the amulet around his neck.

“Now you can’t skip out when you get bored of all this even if you wanted to.” Sammie notes. Remmick looks at him with hurt eyes.

“I’m not ever gon’ be bored of you and Zion. I swear, songbird.”

“Whatever. I’m leavin’ now. Have him home by dinner time. Zion’s gon’ want you at the table.” Sammie shouts behind him, door shutting. Annie chuckles to herself after the door shuts.

“What’s so funny?”

“He still in love with you. But you hurt him.”

“In love?” Remmick highly doubts that.

“You not the only one that gained feelings after that coupling. Y’all done made a soul tie, really. Zion’s just a physical manifestation of that tie. You really didn’t know you had a son?” Remmick shakes his head no.

“I felt a child-like tug from my Hive, but I was always confused. The Althing don’t allow any of us to turn children into vampires. Thought a member of my Hive had done that and were on their way to be staked. A child by me never crossed my mind.”

“I find the whole Hive concept interestin’. Must be intense, all that buzzin’ in your head.”

“The longer you live, the better you get at blockin’ it out. But when you’re fresh, a fledgling…yeah. It’s intense.” Remmick doesn’t miss those days at all.

“Well, now that the bindin’s all finished, we can start lookin’ at these magical signatures I’ve found all over town. That’s where we’ll start to see who’s bringin’ on this Blight.” Annie grabs a worn leather bag filled to the brim with objects, and beckons Remmick to walk with her.

“First place we goin’ is the library. There’s a grove behind there that’s filled with magic. We can read the signatures there.” He assumes the library can’t be that far since Annie decided to walk, so he dutifully follows her lead. As they walk, he gets stares. Glares. Outright frowns.

The people of Clarksdale have a right to hate him. He knows it. None of them were cool with the idea of turning into a vampire just to satisfy his hedonistic hunger, and he knows when his rut hits he can become…a more feral version of himself. They have a right to be scared, a woman dragging her child away from him.

He’s honestly surprised people still recognize him even with the beard, but walking beside Annie nobody actually tries to speak to him. He notices the silent respect she demands and in turn receives. They wouldn’t dare question what the hoodoo priestess has to say or do. If she has Remmick with her, it’s for a reason.

The amulet makes him feel more human despite his vampire status, so he’s drenched in sweat by the time they actually get to the grove located by the library. The lush greenery is a beautiful scene, Remmick imagining people reading books in calm quiet here. Annie pulls out a sealed jar from her leather bag with a white powdery substance in it.

“Focus. Can’t you feel it? We’re on the edge of town, and the signatures are strong here. They don’t come from me or Jedediah or even you. Anyone who’s magical leaves traces, and this…it don’t feel right.” She shakes the powdery substance in the grace, and lights a match.

Remmick knows she’s right. If he focuses, he can tell who’s who. The closer he got to Zion, the more apparent it became that he’s supernatural. The same could be said for Sammie. But this signature that’s been left behind feels oppressive, like it has no place in this town.

Annie lights a match and prays with intention, throwing the match on the ground. The grass lights up where she threw the white powdery substance, and sparks fly in the air, vibrant red in color. When the flame dies down, there’s a rune burned into the grass. Remmick’s eyes widen, Annie shaking her head in disbelief.

“What the fuck…” He mumbles, bending down to touch it himself.

“The white powder is a reactive substance that’s been blessed. When hit with fire, the truth reveals itself.”

“Why is the rune vampiric in nature?” Remmick asks aloud, knowing neither of them can answer. “It’s not mine.”

“Definitely not yours. But it’s someone’s. If we do this all over town, I bet it’ll be the same rune. Who does it belong to, is the question. Why the hell would a vampire bring about a Blight to Clarksdale?” Annie slaps Remmick on the back quickly, and he hisses at the sharp sting.

“What?”

“How many enemies have you made?”

“Ask me a simpler question. Only the man upstairs knows that.”

“That don’t narrow the list down at all. Think, Remmick. It could be important. The only tie Clarksdale has had to a vampire is you.”

“You sayin’ I brought this along?” Remmick asks, feeling irritated. “We just established it couldn’t have been me. I ain’t been here.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, demon.” Annie snaps, hands on her hips. “Some other vamp could get the same idea to come here and have their rut.” Remmick backs off, knowing that’s a plausible idea. Vampires were terrible gossips, Remmick not excluded from the stereotype.

“We finna do this all around town. C’mon.” Walking back to Annie and Smoke’s house, Remmick’s a bit glad she decides to take the car around the rest of the town, hitting up the spots with the most powerful magical signatures. They only get a quarter of the town done when evening time comes, the sun beginning to set. Remmick’s drawn the rune for Annie, them finding the exact same one every time.

“Gonna have to pray over this tonight. This rune is powerful, Remmick. Whoever owns it means business. They tryna bring Hell to Clarksdale.”

“We won’t let that happen.”

“Damn right, we won’t.” Annie glances at the watch on her wrist, whistling. “It’s time for you to go be a Daddy, now.”

“Annie, what if I don’t do it right? What if I fuck the kid up now that I’m here. He was doin’ fine without me.”

“There ain’t no right way to parent. You just…do it. If my baby girl had lived, I’d probably be askin’ the same questions you are now. But you try everyday. If you lead with love, and you try your hardest, you can’t really mess it up.” Remmick bows his head a bit, news of Annie losing a baby rocking his world.

“Sorry about that, lass.” Annie waves a hand at him.

“Happened years ago. I’m mostly healed from it. Sammie needed a village when Zion was born, and of course I was gon’ volunteer. He fills the hole in my heart. In all our hearts. Don’t matter that the baby got fangs. He a baby all the same, and he just wants love. Some people here can’t understand that.”

“Do they really bully Sammie like that? He was brave, braver than any of them will ever be.” Remmick spits, thoughts of Jessica popping into his head.

“Jedediah the worst. There’s room for the religious and room for the spiritual. You may be a demon, but Sammie was the chosen one to put you down. Jedediah still ain’t really come to terms with that. Congregation treats Zion like he got the plague. He try to act like everything’s normal and it ain’t. That’s okay that it ain’t normal, it just is. But Sammie’s real strong. He can handle it.”

“He doesn’t have to handle it alone anymore. I’m here for him.” He shakes out his leg again. Even without the binding, he would be there for Sammie. Nothing else matters.

ˏˋ °•* ⁀ ➷

“Do I have to eat my carrots?” Zion whines, pushing them around his plate. Sammie rolls his eyes at his son.

“You ask that every time I put ‘em in front of you. My answer gon’ always be yes, peanut.” Zion groans loud and dramatic, but eats one anyways. Remmick snickers at his son’s antics, taking a bite of the potato on his plate.

“You can do more than just drink blood now?” Sammie asks, still amazed he’s sharing dinner with them. Annie dropped him back at Sammie’s place after another hour of pouring over the signatures. Remmick had made a list of every vampire he’s gotten into a quarrel with, ranking them from most to least explosive. He cringed at the length of the list. What can he say? His slick mouth can get him in trouble sometimes.

Mary, Stack’s fiancé, had gotten Zion from the bus stop, dropping him off at Slim’s shop with Sammie. They both stayed there until Sammie wrapped up lessons, then they headed home where Sammie had cooked dinner for all of them. The food smelled delicious. Remmick had to grab a plate.

“The amulet. Makes me more human. I can stomach real food…makes the hunger for blood less commandin’. Vegetables and beef are good enough for me right now. This is amazin’, by the way, sugar. Real nice.” Sammie ducks his head at the praise, kicking Remmick with his foot lightly under the table. Remmick’s Alpha can tell Sammie’s Omega is preening a bit.

“Told you to not call me that.”

“Sorry. Force of habit.”

“Do I drink blood?” Zion questions, chomping down on a bite sized piece of meat Sammie’s cut up for him. Remmick looks to Sammie for guidance. Zion very well can drink blood, and on nights when the veil gets thin between worlds—say, a full moon for example—he could be more inclined to.

“No. Don’t go bitin’ people, either.”

“But sometimes I feel like doin’ it.” Zion comments, elongating his fangs.

“I do, too, leanbh.” Remmick replies, elongating his fangs as well. Zion points to his father with wide eyes.

“You can do it, too! You just like me!”

“Nah, you just like me. We vampires.” Sammie eyes Remmick with annoyance, and he blanches, slinking back in his seat.

“Vampires…what is that!” Zion’s inquisitive Remmick sees, wanting to know everything. He wonders if other four year olds are this hungry for knowledge.

“Remember I told you, peanut. Vampires are beings that got fangs, just like you. They drink blood and the fangs can really hurt if you bite someone, so we don’t want ‘em out.” Zion nods, retracting his fangs.

“I remember! I can remember!” Sammie claps for his son.

“Good job, peanut!”

“You make him hide his fangs?”

“He’s half human, and he goes to a human school. I don’t suppose y’all have a school for vampires?”

“The Althing has meetings sometimes…”

“So, no school. He might be part vampire, but he’s a human first. Clarksdale might know about the supernatural, but it’s not like it’s really accepted here. Zion’s an exception. I want him to be as normal as possible because of that. You wouldn’t get it.”

“I get it just fine. ‘Cause I’ll raise hell if anybody talks to him like they talk to you. My word, these people are insufferable. Comin’ at you like that, I was gon’ drink ‘em all dry! But you put that pretty little—“

“Remmick!” Sammie snaps, deep frown set on his face, but Remmick just knows heat’s rising to his cheeks. “Can you keep it PG, please?” Zion’s laughing in his seat, finding their tone funnier than their words. Remmick has the decency to be ashamed, blush coloring his face and ears.

“Apologies. You did what you had to do. Zion shouldn’t suffer for what I am. I just know his nature will win out at some point. We gotta find a balance for him. Trust me. Him being a dhampir don’t change nothin’. When he gains a lust for blood…”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Because you will be there when we cross that bridge.” Sammie interrupts, stabbing his meat with his fork. Talking about these matters obviously upsets his songbird, so he drops it and listens as Zion spins a tale of he and his classmates following a colony of ants with their magnifying glasses at recess.

Remmick listens with rapt attention, Sammie commenting here and there with a question that Zion’s more than happy to answer. It’s when Sammie takes his and Remmick’s plate to the sink to be washed does Zion try and sneak the rest of his carrots to Gibson.

“Aht. Leanbh, you gotta eat your veggies. Gotta grow big and strong.”

“Thought you were gonna be cool ‘cause you came outta nowhere.” Zion pouts, Gibson licking the boy’s hand anyways despite not getting any food off his plate. Remmick blinks, frowning.

“I am cool! I’m the coolest, what the fuck?”

“Language!” Sammie snaps from the kitchen, which is an open layout, dining room table not that far from where he’s washing dishes. “I swear if he starts cussin’ cause you done got me out of sorts, I’ll kick your butt.” Zion giggles in his seat, Gibson resting next to him, content.

“You said butt!” Remmick smirks, chuckling at his son.

“You finna make me get a swear jar. You ain’t got no job, though. It’s not like you could even fill it up.” Sammie mumbles to himself, Remmick standing up and gently pushing Sammie out the way.

“Get him ready for bed. I can finish up here. He’ll try and feed the rest to Gibson.” Sammie’s eyes cut to his son, knowingly.

“You better not had fed Gibson a thing.”

“He didn’t. I caught it in time.” Sammie puts his hands on his hips, smirking despite himself.

“We’ll make a dad outta you yet. C’mon Zion, it’s bathtime.” Zion leaps out of his seat, slipping a bit on his socks, Gibson stepping in the way so he runs into a solid body rather than plop on the hardwood floor. He’s a very smart dog.

“Be careful, peanut. What I tell you ‘bout all that runnin’?” The two of them climb up the stairs, Gibson coming to stand beside him as he finishes up cleaning the area. It’s a testament to his insatiable vampire hunger, because he has his pick at the leftovers, too. If it ain’t blood, it’s something.

“Did you leave any for us?” Sammie chastises softly, Zion nowhere to be found. He has a fork in the potatoes, and stops mid-way, looking guilty.

“Um…well…”

“Whatever. You just gon’ get stuff from Annie next time you see her.” Remmick’s silent as Sammie grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He offers some to Remmick who accepts, and Sammie pulls out a fork, grabbing a potato and eating it.

“I should’ve sent somethin’ to you. I really should’ve. I just thought…while I went to find the amulet, you’d be better off thinkin’ about me as a distant memory. Our coupling wasn’t the most…romantic.” Remmick confesses.

“You don’t get to make decisions like that for me.” Sammie plainly states, sipping on the wine. “You ain’t stay long enough to hear what I really wanted.” The words sting.

“You not wrong. I just knew I needed to get started on finding this amulet I had heard about.”

“I wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t even have it. I just…you should’ve been here. When I was pregnant, when I first had him. You should’ve been here.”

“I’ll regret it every day for the rest of time.” Remmick states, sorrow coloring his voice. “I missed you all round. Missed holdin’ your hand durin’ birth, missed it all. Fuck, I missed it all. You know how much that hurts? And now, I’m a father. It’s all on me, and I just—“

“It’s why I said what I said at the bus stop. I’ve seen that look before ‘cause I’ve had it myself. You wanna bolt. Run away ‘cause the responsibility’s too big. But you don’t get the luxury of doin’ that. Not as the mom, as the Omega. You don’t get that.” Sammie fixes him with a cold stare. It sends a shiver down his spine.

“You don’t get that option, either. Now that you here, you here. You can’t up and leave when it gets hard. Forget the bindin’, you’re sneaky enough to find a way out. If you leave, I’ll find you and kill you. I mean it. When you a parent, you a parent forever. You of all people should understand that weight.”

“You’d really kill me, huh?”

“Stake right to the heart. Don’t try me, Remmick.” It shouldn’t be the sexiest thing he’s ever heard, but it is. He downs his wine glass, trying not to outwardly show just how attractive he thinks Sammie is. There’s the pitter patter of tiny footsteps, and Remmick thanks a higher power for his son. He was one step away from trying to jump Sammie’s bones.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait!” Zion exclaims, standing in front of them with his hands spread out wide. “Before I go to sleep!” Sammie laughs at his son.

“What is it, peanut?” He asks, amused. Zion’s eyes twinkle as he looks at Remmick.

“Will you be at my tee ball game this weekend? Pleaseeeeee?” He begs. Remmick nods.

“‘Course I’ll be there, cheerin’ you on.” All the glass in the house is susceptible to shattering with how loudly Zion screams in glee.

“Now I can tell Jace, and Elan, and Shelby, and everybody both my daddies gon’ be there!” Zion runs up and hugs them both, forces Remmick and Sammie to come together for a group hug. Remmick takes this opportunity to wrap both of them in his arms, separating for a second to pick Zion up and put him on his side.

“C’mon, Papa! Get close! Cuddle!” Zion instructs, burrowing into Remmick’s neck where his hand holds him at. Sammie’s apprehensive, but he joins in closer, settling into Remmick’s embrace. One of Sammie’s hands is placed on Zion’s back as support while the other is wrapped around Remmick’s middle.

Remmick knows he’s pushing his luck, but he gives Zion a little peck on his forehead, and he does the same for Sammie. He gets a pinch to his side for it, but it’s a small price to pay for how comfortable Sammie feels in his arms.

”Will you take a picture?” Remmick asks. Sammie snorts. 

“Be glad I’m even doin’ this.”

”Well, you’re right.” Definitely pushing his luck.

Chapter Text

“Daddy you look different!" Zion exclaims, mouth full of cereal.

"Jesus, boy, don't talk with your mouth full." Sammie lightly chastises, taking a paper towel and dabbing at his chin that's covered in milk. Remmick stands in front of Sammie and his son, beard fully shaved off. He snagged a razor from Annie, not really wanting to go into town to buy one after everyone’s adverse reactions to his presence.

Remmick's been alive for centuries, and with that comes having a lot of money. Sammie might think he's broke because he hasn’t gotten a job, but he couldn't be more wrong. Remmick has enough money for all three of them to live lavishly for the rest of their natural born lives. (There's a castle in Romania with his name on it.)

"Daddy's face is clear, now! No more hidin' behind a beard." He's dressed in a simple red t-shirt and jeans, boots on his feet. His hair has been combed to look nice. He looks like a regular man—if you don't account for the fangs or the flashing red eyes. He looks like your average, run-of-the-mill father who's ready to enjoy his son's tee ball game. If that’s giving him a complex, he won’t speak on it.

"The beard made you look funny."

"I know. It itched, too."

“Ain't look that bad." Sammie murmurs, eating at his own bowl of cereal. Sammie's dressed down in his own graphic tee and pants. A plethora of colorful bracelets line his wrist, Zion undoubtedly making them, and he isn't wearing glasses today. It’s Saturday, meaning Sammie doesn't work. A good perk about his job is that lessons at the shop aren’t on weekends, so Sammie's able to spend time with his son.

"You and Annie ever figure anything out?" Sammie asks out loud. Remmick nods, taking a seat at the table with them. He grabs at Zion's bowl like he's about to steal it, and his son squeals, bringing the bowl closer to his body.

"We figured out the same vampiric rune is all around Clarksdale. Everybody that does magic has a literal magical signature in the form of a rune. It's unique to a person, and we keep findin' it everywhere. It’s all the same." For the past few days, he and Annie have been looking all over town, checking every crack and crevice and coming up with the same rune no matter the method used. It's as if this vampire bathed Clarksdale in their signature, their work evident in every space that's a hotbed for magic.

Remmick has the drawing of the rune in his pocket, Annie forcing him to go up and down his actual shit list she made him write out, trying to find out which vampire would come to Clarksdale to stir up trouble. Remmick won't lie and say he didn't sing the town's praises whenever he had the chance. The past four years he's been consumed with his mission, but there were days he took a brief break, always lamenting about his songbird.

”Okay, so do you know whose it is?" Remmick shrugs, shaking his head.

“Nope. Ain't got a clue. All I know is it's vampiric in nature. All vampire runes have a specific kind of dark energy, but I can't place who it belongs to." Sammie rolls his eyes.

“Can't wait to find out who you done ticked off when it all comes to light."

“Hey! Why I always gotta be the one to start somethin'? What if they're tryna get to me!"

“Have you met yourself? I highly doubt that." Zion slurps loudly, breaking up their conversation at the table. After he slurps, he burps, Sammie scowling.

“Zion, what do you say afterwards?"

"I know this! Excuse mel" He exclaims, raising his hands in the air. Sammie can't help but smile at the boy, proud he even remembered.

“Finish that little bit and then we gotta get ready for the game. Parents gotta be there earlier than everybody else." As Sammie stands up and heads towards the kitchen, Remmick follows, Gibson a steady force beside Zion's chair. That dog could entertain Zion for hours.

“You really think it's a good idea for me to be at this game?” Remmick asks, pensive. “I know I told Zion I'd be cheerin' him on, but I'm not tryin' to make things harder for you. I can watch from the treeline. Won’t be hard for me to fly up there.”

"Fly?"

“Vampires can fly, yes. More like glide for a long period of time if you wanna get technical since we ain't got wings, but yeah. I can fly to the treeline and watch him that way."

"No. You'll be in the stands with me. Anybody that got anything to say can kiss my ass. If it makes Zion happy, it's gettin' done. They might be pissed but they adults. We all there for the kids, anyways, and they'll see you there for the same reason.”

"They know I'm Zion's dad?"

"C’mon now, everybody knows that. When Zion was real young, it was hard for me to get him to hide his fangs. He's different, but he's not treated that way…for the most part."

"Again, Sammie, just say the words. I'll take care of anyone treatin' our son like he's some kind of monster." Sammie doesn't say anything, he just stares at Remmick. It's as if his songbird's eyes are piercing his very soul, his orbs so warm and brown.

“I just can't believe you didn't know. You didn't even consider it a possibility." He can already piece together what Sammie's mentioning.

“Yeah. I should've known with how many times I came inside you, you woulda been knocked up." He whispers. Sammie doesn't hesitate to whack him with the towel he's using to dry dishes, Remmick sputtering at the water that gets on his shirt.

"You vulgar son of a gun." Sammie quietly hisses back, gripping the towel tightly.

"You don't actually hate when I talk like that, do ya?"

"We are not having relations again. Are you fuckin' crazy?"

"If wantin' to be buried to the hilt in your wet lil' hole makes me crazy, then I'm certified insane." Sammie groans loudly, Zion making a questioning noise at it.

“I’ve had enough of you. Go change your shirt, I swear to God almighty." Sammie mumbles, fixing Remmick with an annoyed stare as he walks back to his son, grabbing the precariously placed bowl from him to be washed. Remmick decides to tease Sammie a bit, and takes off his shirt right there, defined muscles flexing as he does so. Sammie stops in his tracks, eyes glued to his form for a few seconds.

"Like what you see?" Sammie frowns.

“No. Now, move." He pushes past him and places the bowl in the sink, moving quickly to get back to Zion, but not before Remmick purposefully wraps his hands around Sammie's middle, bringing his beautiful Omega closer to him.

“You know you love this." Remmick buries his face in Sammie's neck, taking a big whiff of his natural scent. Sweet and earthy all wrapped up together. God, he could just eat him right on up. The hard jab to his stomach he gets from Sammie is worth it, so caught off guard by it that Sammie's able to slink away, grabbing Zion without another word and high-tailing it upstairs. He holds his stomach and grimaces, Gibson starting at him.

"Was it too much?” Gibson barks twice at him, and Remmick hangs his head.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

ˏˋ °•* ⁀ ➷

“Can’t say I ain’t excited to see you in person. I mean, wow. A real vampire." Mary gushes, Sammie shushing her immediately.

“Mary please, we here for Zion. We don't gotta bring attention to Remmick. He got enough of that already." Remmick couldn't ignore the grimaces and whispers of the townspeople even if he tried.

He’s only felt this exposed ages ago, almost being staked. He was less careful with his vampirism then, more reckless and rowdy. He likes to think he's calmed down a bit, but then he sees his son gathered with his Coach and their team on the field and discards that very thought.

“How does this all work?”

“We got four innings. They’re super short. Each kid gets a turn to hit the ball, and they basically run around trying to get points, but that’s not really the point. It’s all fun. Participation is key.”

“My boy gon’ hit a home run!” Remmick shouts, uncaring of the stares. Sammie shakes his head at him.

“It ain’t about that!” Remmick pretends he can’t hear it would be nice, though leave Sammie’s lips, eyes fixed onto the field as the game begins.

Remmick’s eyes are glued to his son as child after child steps up to the plate, swinging the bat in hopes it hits the ball. Most kids are unsuccessful, but a few actually hit the ball worth something, children moving around the field in haste to catch it. Zion’s an active participant in the game, trying his hardest to follow the ball and score points for his team.

Zion even briefly catches a ball and runs it to second base, effectively cutting off the opposing team. Sammie and Remmick both hoot and holler for that one, the two of them giving each other a high-five.

“Zion’s real good at this! I’m always surprised by how into the game he is.” Mary notes, chewing on a pretzel.

“Yeah, my baby got a real knack for it. He could go to the big leagues.” Sammie gushes, waving at Zion who waves back excitedly. They’re having a small break while they switch the team who’s up to bat, Mary turning her attention to Remmick.

“So, how long are you in town for? I imagine you not stayin’ long. Vamp business and all that.”

“I’m stayin’ for a long time, actually. Only reason I left was to be able to sit in the sun just like you, Miss Mary.” He gestures to the amulet around his neck.

“Mrs. soon enough. If only yo cousin would get serious.” Remmick flinches at the mere mention of Sammie’s cousins. He’s still apprehensive for whenever they get here.

“Oh Mary, you know Stack loves you. He’ll come around soon enough, I know it. Don’t you worry.” Mary whips out a fan from her purse and fans herself with it, rolling her eyes.

“He lucky I’m waitin’ this long! I’m ready to get into the white dress, say my vows!” Remmick has the fleeting thought of he and Sammie getting married. Sammie would be in white, obviously, because there isn’t a more pure being on this planet than him. Zion would be the ring bearer, speeding down the aisle. While Remmick could have them get married virtually anywhere, he knows his songbird. He’d want to be married at home with those he loves. Remmick has no problem with that.

They’d do it under a strong tree, representative of their roots. Annie would bless them beforehand, preacher (hopefully Sammie’s father) tying them together for eternity. Remmick would never bite Sammie, but the symbolism isn’t lost on him. That would be enough for him. He’d kiss Sammie sweetly in front of family, but take him rough that night. Zion would be with the rest of the family, everyone’s spirits happy at their union.

“Hey!” Sammie calls, waving his hand in his face. He gets out of his own head and quirks an eyebrow up at his songbird.

“Pay attention! Yo son bout to go up to bat!” Remmick’s eyes snap to his son, who stands at first base holding a blue bat, looking a bit apprehensive. Remmick can’t stop himself from gliding down to the fence line, symbolically standing behind his son.

“You got this!” He shouts, still ignoring the townspeople that look like they want to stake him. Zion turns around and glances at Remmick. They hold eyes for a few seconds, Remmick giving the boy a thumbs up. It would definitely be cheating, but Remmick could show Zion how to use his dhampir status to aid him in the game. He is technically stronger and faster than any child out here. But Zion is part human, too, and he wants to play like one.

Zion turns away from him and gets into his stance, little knees bending as far as they can go. The bat is raised behind his head, and another kid throws the ball, Zion rearing back a bit and taking a big swing. The ball connects with the bat and it goes far, farther than any of the children can quickly get to it.

Remmick hollers as the umpire tells Zion to run, his son making sure to touch every base with the tip of his tiny foot. Remmick’s heart swells at how his son is lazer focused on getting a home run, Zion making it back to first base and jumping on it, laughing in glee.

“Whoo! My baby got a home run!” Remmick shouts, clapping his hands.

“He do it with magic?” A parent behind him heckles. When Remmick whips around to see who it is, he frowns. He doesn’t know this man from a can of paint, bald head and a bit of a beer belly on him. He’s obviously someone’s father, and Remmick waves him off.

“It don’t work like that. Zion did that all on his own.”

“How we supposed to know? The kid ain’t normal, and I was already against havin’ him on the team.” Remmick’s eye twitches, and he briefly glances up to Sammie. Sammie shakes his head, not wanting Remmick to get into it with this man. Is this someone else that’s bothered Sammie? Snide comments, rude stares, making him and Zion feel unwelcome? Remmick won’t stand for it.

“Watch your mouth about my son. He work hard like everyone else here. Not a kid on that field gives a damn, but your grown ass seems to have an issue when there ain’t one.”

“Ain’t an issue? That little bloodsucker could poke my child! Yeah, we all know what he is, and we put up with it, but don’t think we like it.” Sammie stands up then, ready to say something, but Remmick is in the man’s face in record time.

“You wanna say that one more time?” He elongates his fangs on purpose, grabbing onto the man’s shirt with an iron grip, and Sammie rushes behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Remmick! Don’t.” Sammie chastises. Remmick turns around, angry beyond belief.

“Don’t what? Set this son of a bitch straight? You gon’ let them keep talkin’ to you like this? Talk about our son like this?”

“Look around!” All the parents eye him with disdain and a bit of fear. The man is trembling in his hold, all bravado gone at the very thought of being turned into a vampire. They are afraid of him. In this moment, he looks like the big bad monster.

He can see why Sammie doesn’t want him to do anything. He’d just be affirming what everyone already thinks of him if he was to hurt this man, snap his neck in front of an audience. Remmick isn’t kind as he drops the man back onto the risers, frowning.

“Thank him.” He simply says, pointing to Sammie. “He’s the very reason you still standing.” The parent glances towards Sammie who has his arms crossed.

“Don’t thank me. Just shut the fuck up talkin’ about my son. And don’t you ever call him names again, or I won’t stop him. You got it?” The parent nods, trying to get a hold of himself to no avail. He still looks shaken up as Sammie walks back to Mary, who frowns in disgust at the parent. Remmick takes his place back by the fence, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

The game still continues regardless of what was happening in the stands. He feels way too hot under the collar, hands gripping and bending the metal of the fence. Zion has done nothing to deserve this ire other than being Remmick’s son. That thought hurts him—that his son is only treated the way he is due to him. He’s the reason his son can’t have a relatively normal life.

He has the sad thought that he should’ve never come back to Clarksdale, that maybe Zion would’ve been better off without his presence. He can’t help but feel he’s hurting more than helping.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts he doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late, ball smacking him in the face. He reels back, everyone gasping. He exclaims in shock and a twinge of pain, and he’ll have the decency to be ashamed of his outburst later.

“Fuck!” He grips his face, not all that surprised blood is trickling from his nose. The beer bellied parent laughs his ass off at Remmick’s misfortune, but one show of a hiss and fangs his way shuts him up.

“Daddy!” Zion shouts, running towards the fence. “Daddy we won! Jace hit a home run!” Remmick (still holding his face) glances at the young boy who’s happy, but also pale in the face. His ball was the one that smacked Remmick. The little boy runs up to him, Jace’s mother grimacing. This must look worse than it actually feels, vampire healing already kicking in.

“Sorry sir! Please don’t—“

“It’s fine, kid. I been through worse than a ball.” Remmick says, brushing off his concerns. Jace’s mother has an ice pack in her hand, and she practically shoves it towards him.

“Here, sir. So sorry again.” Zion’s obviously concerned, but he’s more excited at their win, all the kids lining up and giving each other high-fives. Good sportsmanship is very important.

“You alright, big guy?” Sammie asks, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. Despite everything that’s happened, Remmick can’t say he doesn’t love Sammie calling him that.

“Better now that you’re here.” Sammie rolls his eyes.

“You can’t stop the sweet talk for shit, can you?”

“No, I can’t. You make it too easy.” Remmick groans, rubbing the blood from under his nose.

“The kids usually go the local pizza place in town and gorge themselves on pizza and ice cream. You comin’ with us?” Remmick turns it over in his mind, thinks of all the people he’ll have to interact with, and shakes his head.

“Nah, I think I’ll sit this one out.” All the parents begin to walk away from the stands, finding their kids and congratulating them. Zion runs into Remmick’s legs, and Remmick doesn’t hesitate to scoop him up, Zion’s hands reaching towards his face.

“Jace is real sorry he hit you with the ball, Daddy. He ain’t mean it.” Zion’s accent melts his heart, and he smiles at his sunshine.

“I know. We all make mistakes. Imma be alright.”

“Papa! We get pizza and ice cream, right?”

“Well, of course!” Sammie answers, Mary coming up and tickling Zion, cheering him on herself. “Winners get to stay up late, too.” Zion squeals, doing a little dance in Remmick’s arms that cracks all the adults up. Remmick gives Zion an exaggerated kiss on his cheek, handing him to Sammie.

“I’ll see y’all later. Gonna go lay down and keep this ice pack on my face.” Sammie looks him up and down with assessing eyes, but nods.

“If you’re sure. We’ll be back in an hour or two.” Remmick waves them off, watching all three of them walk towards Sammie’s car. He watches even when they drive off, and the umpire of the game comes up to him.

“For what it’s worth, I know Zion’s just good at the game.” Remmick’s surprised at the words, but he takes them in stride.

“Thank you for sayin’ that. I would never get in the way of him playin’ the game on his terms.”

“The parents, they can do a lot. I mean, we all know how Clarksdale is—it’s been weird havin’ to accept that—but you been gone long enough. If you wanted to bite everyone you woulda done it by now. I saw a father supportin’ his son out there today, and I can’t knock that.” The umpire nods his head at Remmick and walks away afterwards. Remmick is the last man standing at the field, and he takes in the sun setting, wind whipping coolly.

He imagines he’ll always have this push and pull between wanting to stay and wanting to leave for Zion’s sake. But like Sammie said before, he’s a father.  He can’t leave when it gets tough. If anything, he’ll have to learn to play it safe when it comes to the disrespect the townspeople can dish out. If Sammie’s done it for these few years, he can do it, too.

ˏˋ °•* ⁀ ➷

Remmick’s peering at his shit list again, left half of his face covered with the ice pack when he hears the front door creak open. Gibson sits his head up, barking loudly while Sammie shushes him.

“Gibson! Damn it, he better not be awake.” Gibson sniffles and lays back down, Sammie gently shutting the door behind him. Remmick sits up fully, eyes looking Sammie up and down. Zion’s plastered to his back, eyes closed and puffy cheeks smushed from sleep.

“Thought he was supposed to stay up late.” Sammie snorts, toeing his shoes off at the front door.

“I always say that, he eats pizza and ice cream to his heart’s content—well, until he doesn’t throw up—and he’s out like a light in the car. Every time, like clockwork.” Remmick shakes his head.

“You do it on purpose.” Sammie shrugs, mirth in his eyes.

“It makes him happy even though he never stays awake for it. I’ll do anything to make him happy.” Remmick stands up, making his way over to his little family.

“Let me give him a kiss good night before you walk up there.” He reaches for Zion, but Sammie stops him.

“Wait…” Remmick pulls back, eyes questioning. “You can—tonight. Just for tonight. Come on.” Sammie says, the words tumbling out. He does not wait to see if Remmick is following him, he just rushes past him towards the stairs. Remmick’s never one to look a horse gift in the mouth, so he follows behind Sammie, marveling at finally being let upstairs.

There are three rooms up here—Sammie’s, Zion’s, and a guest bedroom. He’s still a bit cross at not being able to sleep in that room, but all those thoughts fade away as Sammie opens Zion’s room.

“Stop the lights…” Remmick murmurs, taking in the scenery. Zion’s room is decked out in blue and green accents, posters from various kid tv shows on the walls, bookshelf filled to the brim with books, and toys all strewn across the room. Remmick has to watch his step lest he trip over a toy train. Zion’s bed looks soft and comfy, plushies surrounding the pillow his son lays his head on.

Glow-in-the-dark stars grace the ceiling as Sammie lays Zion down, turning on the lamp sitting on a dresser by his bed. The lamp itself is green, covered in haphazardly placed dinosaur stickers. He knows Zion did that.

Zion looks like a cherub, no, a living doll as he sleeps, long lashes resting delicately across his cheeks. Remmick has never seen anything more beautiful, save for Sammie himself. His eyes sting with unshed tears, and both he and Sammie kneel by Zion’s bed, watching as his little chest rises up and down.

“He looks so peaceful.” Remmick says softly, hand rising to brush over Zion’s cheek. Sammie nods.

“One of my favorite parts of the day is tuckin’ him into bed. Watchin’ him sleep. He got a good roof over his head and food in his belly. He can sleep soundly, and I make sure that happens.”

“Well, you got one more person on your team, now.” Sammie bites his lip, worrying over something Remmick has no clue about.

“You okay?”

“Thank you.” Sammie blurts, scratching a bit behind his neck. “For comin’ to his game. He gushed about you the entire time we were out. His friends think you’re cool. It was…nice.” Remmick nods, feeling his undead heart swell.

“I’m glad he enjoyed it. It was the best thing in the world watchin’ him play. He’s only four…imagine what he could do when he gets older.”

“I know!” Sammie exclaims, running a hand over Zion’s curls. “I don’t wanna think about him gettin’ older, though. Don’t know if I’m ready for it. I just know you made this one of the best days ever for him, and I…can’t thank you enough for that.” Sammie holds his head down for a second.

“I know that wasn’t easy, especially with everything the people were sayin’.” Remmick clenches his fists.

“You can’t—look. I could do to be more civil with people, and I’m tryin’. But you can’t expect me to sit by and let people talk about you or Zion, you understand me? It ain’t happenin’. Ever. I told you that at the bus stop and I meant it. They keep testin’ me, and they’ll regret it.”

“I don’t ever expect that from you. I know how you are, though, and you can’t rip into their necks or whatever other vampire shit you wanna do. Words will suffice.” Remmick scoffs. He and Sammie are closer than they were before, shoulder to shoulder as they watch Zion.

“Words don’t do shit half the time. Action matters.” Sammie turns to face him.

“Your actions are too bold and impulsive. We don’t need you on the Clarksdale news, vamp.”

“They’d be lucky to have my mugshot.” Sammie can’t do anything but chuckle at Remmick. Zion’s room is like a warm cocoon for him. All three of them are together, and it feels right. Sammie looks gorgeous in the low glow of the lamp, and he quickly glances at his songbird’s lips. Top lip brown, bottom lip pink. A pink he wants to irritate with his teeth, make puffy and red.

Maybe Sammie was right about him being bold and impulsive, because he stupidly leans over, connects his lips to his songbird’s in record time. Sammie’s frozen for a second, but Remmick slowly but surely feels pressure that isn’t his on his lips. Remmick turns his head, kisses Sammie deeper. Sammie sighs a little in his mouth, and it takes everything in Remmick not to scoop him up in his arms, drag him to a bed, and wreck him until morning. God, how he wants to do that.

It’s when Remmick raises a hand to curve behind his head, thumbing at his ear does Sammie snap his eyes open, forcefully pushing Remmick away. Their lips are spit slick, and Remmick’s eyes flash red. Kissing Sammie feels even better now than it did four years ago.

“You ain’t forgiven.” Sammie says, voice shaky. “Today was good, but you—you was still gone. You still abandoned me for that fuckin’ amulet.” Sammie glances to Zion, who’s still soundly asleep. Remmick wants to refute that, it wasn’t purposeful abandonment, but Sammie sends a sharp glare his way.

“Fuck you. Kissin’ me in our son’s room? God, you ain’t changed.”

“You know I’m in love wit’ you, songbird. I ain’t ever stopped bein’ in love with you. I had to get that amulet so today could even happen!” Remmick snaps, crossing his arms. Sammie touches his lips with his hand, shaking his head.

“Stop it. Get up, go to bed.” Sammie stands up, intent on walking to his room while Remmick stays planted by his son’s bed.

“You ain’t hear me? I said get up.”

“You kissed me back.” He simply says, Sammie taken aback by the truth. “You want me out, you get me up yourself. Otherwise, I’m not movin’ an inch.”

“I got two children livin’ in this damn house.”

“You could sit on my lap. Grind into me to get me outta here. You could kiss me again. You could be honest for fuckin’ once.” Remmick suggests, ignoring Sammie’s insult.

“Do you think I’m stupid? Once you figure all this mess out with Annie, you just gon’ leave again!”

“I told you that wouldn’t be the case! I said it time and time again! Goddamn it, how do I get you to believe me?”

“You ain’t forgiven.” Sammie hisses. “A mistake of a kiss ain’t gon’ change shit.” Quicker than Sammie realizes (thank you vampire abilities), he’s pressed up against the door, Remmick leaning towards his ear.

“A mistake you participated in. I’ll go downstairs, we can all go to bed and end this night onna decent note. But when you go in that room, and you touch yourself, just know that it goes both ways.” Remmick pulls back just a tad, looking Sammie in the eyes.

“I told you I’d regret not bein’ here for you for the rest of my days. That ain’t changed. I know I hurt you. Imma do everything in my power to make up for it, but you gotta be honest with me.” Sammie bucks out of his grip, Remmick stumbling and knocking over a few toys to the ground noisily. Both parents whip their heads around to Zion, who does nothing but shift in the bed, turning away from the two of them, still in sleep.

They both breathe a sigh of relief.

“I don’t wanna do this with you, Remmick. God, just be a good dad, alright? That’s how you can make it up to me.” Sammie says, voice raw and hurt. His songbird spares no more words for him, leaving the room. He’s seemingly leaving Remmick to his own devices, not outright commanding him to go downstairs.

As he gives Zion a kiss on the forehead and he shuts the door, he knows he’s the asshole here. He should’ve never kissed Sammie. They weren’t ready for that at all, and one good day wasn’t going to speed up the process.

“Damn.” He mumbles to himself, settling back on the couch. Gibson sniffs his hand, hopping on the couch and making himself comfortable. Remmick welcomes the dog. At least he’s not fully alone. Glancing at the list again, he’s crossed off multiple names, leaving a few that he’s had personal beef with over the decades.

“I’ll call them tomorrow.” Remmick declares, leaning back and closing his eyes. If he’s going to track these few vampires down to get their magical signatures, he was going to need two very loyal members of his Hive for the job.

All night he strains his super hearing towards Sammie’s room, and he can do nothing but smirk when he hears his songbird’s heavy pants at three in the morning. Gibson has trotted off to another corner of the living room, and Remmick presses the heel of his hand into his crotch.

“Goes both ways.” He whispers, feeling no shame as he takes care of himself. He might lie about a lot of things, but he can’t be anything but honest when it comes to this, to Sammie.