Logan sighed as he finished reading the latest report that had come in. He scanned the last few lines again, feeling discouraged. It had been nearly an entire calendar year since he had returned to London and joined the Shadow Stalker coven. And while he enjoyed every single night he was fortunate to spend with his son and see him grow up, including a birthday, there were still no signs of Loraine. Despite being confined to the coven house, Nathaniel's men had combed the city to look for the Blood Warrior's wife in his stead. He had hoped she was out there still, somewhere, trying to find him.

Even though it had been almost a year in human timeframes, Logan was quickly becoming dissuaded with the cause. It seemed like nothing concrete worked into a credible lead. If a glimpse of a similar woman was seen in the city or in the outer boroughs and the Shadow Stalker managed to catch up to the person in question, she would disappear into the night. It was a matter of time before Nathaniel called off the search. Logan had even used the last of his sire's influence to put out word amongst the Count's circle of informants and servants throughout Europe: Find Loraine Bonaparte-Mezdor. But even his efforts had been fruitless...

Had Loraine wanted to be found, the Shadow Stalkers would have located her.

The Blood Warrior got to his feet from the desk chair and tucked the correspondence from the Intelligence guard into an interior pocket of his leather jacket. He had lost nearly all his faith in his search. He glanced at the clock and decided it was time to join Avalon and Ranelle for the night. He shut off the light to the borrowed office and headed into the corridor.

In the past eight months, he'd taken on some of the responsibilities that the rest of the Winslow fledges performed in Hadrian's absence. He worked closely with Marcius and Kearran on the coven's security systems and Vanguard Shadows, training the latest class of security professionals in methods of fighting and tracking. The rest of his nights were spent with Ranelle and Avalon as he became used to being a father.

Logan headed down the stairs to the Winslow floor from L3. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and then put his hands in his pockets absently, taking his time. He wanted to give Ranelle a chance to get Avalon out of his bath before he became a distraction. Avalon would no-doubtedly beg to play instead of bathe and get ready for bed.

He still wasn't sure how he felt about co-parenting with the auburn-brunette. He had spent nearly every night with her as they educated and cared for Avalon. Oftentimes, he would fall asleep on her couch, only to find her waking him to go to his own bed the floor above. After a while, she stopped trying to keep barriers between them and began to let him sleep in her sitting room across from Avalon's daybed. She had even taken to leaving a blanket and bed pillow out for him. Logan wondered if perhaps they were falling into old habits again from centuries before. A small part of him hoped that was true.

And hiding his growing feelings for her was becoming difficult.

He reached the Winslow floor and swiped his badge. The lock popped free in response with a small chirp. He sighed and immediately tuned his ears to the floor's inhabitants, hoping he could hear what the pair was doing within her apartment.

Since Hadrian's passing, he noticed a change in the old behaviors of the other fledglings. They were no longer embattled and forced to hold their reservations in front of their covenmates. Nathaniel had taken on the mantle of coven commander with ease, deferring to Kearran and Marcius in matters of military and intelligence when needed. The household seemed lighter in overall mood, with the dining level full of laughter and good company. Before his arrival, Kearran had told him that Hadrian didn't take kindly to anyone who did not spend every waking moment out fighting their enemies. The coven had been hushed, tense, and oftentimes a place of political hostility. Logan had also noticed that Ranelle appeared to be more like her centuries-old self that had enjoyed a good laugh and dancing. She was no longer sporting bruises as trophies from her sire's temper.

But the other grand elders were still keeping their eyes on the London coven house. While the Winslow fledgling class were all considered elders themselves, it hadn't stopped Thorne Winslow from sending his younger brother, Seren, to the coven for routine visits. Unlike his older siblings, Seren was much more relaxed and logical. He came every few months to hold roundtables with the bloodline's fledges and inspect the underground fortress. And despite his friendly demeanor, Nathaniel had advised that Logan stay out of sight during those meetings. While Seren would not suspect Logan of the capital crime of murdering a grand elder, his presence would be reported to Thorne and Kendall Winslow. And that would only rouse Thorne's suspicions.

Logan paused outside the red door, listening for Ranelle's voice.

"When's Dad comin' back?" Avalon asked, sounding distant as if from another room.

"Soon, darling. Finish drying off," Ranelle answered, her tone patient. "You'll want to be all fresh and clean before he gets here."

Logan smiled to himself. He couldn't get used to hearing that word, dad.

Avalon's language skills had increased in previous months and he had just recently begun to call Logan his father by name. But it hadn't taken hardly any goading from Ranelle to encourage the behavior. It was as if the boy intuitively understood that Logan was his parent by blood. While he still called Ranelle the same nickname he'd used since he was a baby and beginning to make sounds, he had begun to try to make sense of his family structure. And it made Logan feel guilty that Ranelle never encouraged Avalon to call her a parent, or had the chance to know Loraine as his true birthmother.

Logan felt guilty about a lot of things.

And while the coven had searched for his wife, he felt himself letting go of her, already beginning to accept the inevitable. His marriage was practically over, if not non-existent. And he found himself wishing for closure, so he could be free to make the choice he found himself wrestling with every single night.

He stood outside for a few more minutes, listening to the two talk about what Avalon wanted to do before going to bed. When the sounds of the bathtub draining stopped and Avalon's footfalls bounded from Ranelle's bedroom to the sitting room, he finally knocked.

"He's here!" Avalon hollered, making Ranelle laugh from the other room.

Logan backed up a step as the door opened a crack, just far enough that it reached the end of the security chain, revealing Avalon in his pajamas.

"What's the password?" Avalon questioned, sounding deadly serious.

"There's a password now?" Logan asked, chuckling.

The boy nodded, keeping his face straight of any smile.

Logan smirked, realizing Avalon wanted him to play along and be serious, too. "Do I get a hint of what the password is?" he asked.

Avalon squinted, looking skeptical. "Nope," he declared and shut the door.

"Avalon, let your father in," Ranelle scolded despite the giggle in her tone.

"He doesn't know the password," the boy stated, making Logan chuckle again.

"Well, what is the password?" Ranelle asked, her British accent now sounding closer to the door as she entered the sitting room. "That's not very fair if you don't tell us ahead of time."

"It's 'night hawk,'" he whispered to her. "But you can't tell him."

Ranelle giggled again from inside. Avalon still wasn't aware of his own vampire abilities, and had no idea that his guardians could hear everything around them with ease. "Okay, I promise, I won't tell him. But you better give him a chance to answer your question."

Logan smiled, his head shaking from outside the door. The woman had the composure and patience of a saint. It hadn't taken him long in being reunited with his son and observing the boy's relationship with Ranelle that he remembered how good of a mother she had been once upon a time.

The door opened slowly again, this time Avalon only cracking it enough that he could look up at his father with one eye. "What's the password?" he asked.

Logan decided to go along with the game. He scratched his head and then stroked his chin, pretending to ponder the answer. "I have a feeling it's a bird," he said, watching to see if Avalon gave up his deadpan expression. When the boy only squinted harder, he had to refrain from smiling. "It's an evening bird, I bet... Night Hawk," he announced.

Avalon sighed heavily, not pleased his father had guessed so easily. "You can come in," he said. He shut the door and Logan could hear the chain slide off the bolt. It was just low enough that the four-year-old could reach it.

Logan chuckled again, coming in as Avalon moved out of the way. "Thank you for permission to enter, young lord," he teased with a grand bow, making the boy giggle at his father's ridiculousness. He smiled and tousled Avalon's damp hair.

"You've been working late," Ranelle said in greeting as Logan stepped towards her. Her eyes closed when he gave her a light hug, trying not to inhale the smell of his cologne. She pulled back before he did, putting distance between them by moving over to fix Avalon's hair.

"Just a few more reports to look over and file. You know how Marcius hates paperwork," Logan answered her. He watched as she smoothed his son's blonde locks before she went back to cleaning up the sitting room. He took in her sleeveless blouse and jeans, noticing her bare feet and freshly painted nails. Her dark hair was hanging around her shoulders, one front section tucked behind her ear. She was effortless in everything she did, and he found it appealing.

The woman smirked and nodded in agreement. "Any new developments?" she asked. "Avalon, will you brush your teeth, please?" she added to the boy.

"Can I get a snack first?" the four-year-old asked.

"Just one," she responded. "And then teeth brushed and bedtime."

Logan smiled and patted Avalon on the back as the young child headed for the cabinets in the corner of the room. He waited patiently for Ranelle to turn her attention back to him. "Just a few movements on the chessboard," he told her. "But nothing too pressing. We'll continue to keep an eye on it."

She paused from putting away a few file folders off the table so Avalon could eat his snack, turning to look at him again. "How close are they?"

"Far enough away that there's nothing to worry about yet. We'll keep an eye on it," he reassured her.

"But there could be something to worry about?" she pressed, moving everything out of the way as Avalon sat down with a cookie at his usual seat. She smiled at the boy and smoothed his hair one more time before moving the papers and folders over to her desk.

Logan glanced at his son for a short second, seeing he was too preoccupied with his treat to pay any attention to them. "No, not right now," he said again, looking back to Ranelle. "We can talk about it later."

She sighed, her shoulders tensing slightly with the exhale. She nodded and reached for her glass of wine that was sitting on the desk. She took a sip and then turned to look at the clock. "Oh my goodness, Avalon, it's nearly four. You're going to be so tired tomorrow," she said, ignoring Logan's comments for the moment.

The boy sighed heavily in an identical sound to hers. "But Dad just got here," he said with a dour expression.

"I know, darling. But if you stay up much later, you'll never want to get up tomorrow night," Ranelle said, beginning to lay the ground work to talk him into going to bed.

"Can I at least finish my cookie?" he asked, glancing at the last two bites left. "I'm not ready to go to bed."

She glanced at Logan for a short moment and then back to the boy. "I'll make a deal with you. You can finish your biscuit and if you go brush your teeth and jump in bed immediately after, your father will read you a book while I get your clothes put away in the other room. How does that sound?"

The boy grinned from ear to ear and nodded fervently. He quickly threw the last of the cookie into his mouth in one large bite and raced for the bathroom.

"Finish chewing first, please!" Ranelle called after him.

"O-tay!" he hollered back, his response muffled by the food.

Ranelle giggled and shook her head. She glanced at Logan with a warm smile. "Do you mind? I really need to finish the reports for Nathaniel on next month's inventory."

The Blood Warrior grinned, nodding. "Happy to."

"Thank you," she said calmly, picking up a different set of file folders and then her glass again. "Besides, he's been asking about you all night. He's probably sick of following me around this week."

Logan went to object to her statement, but Avalon raced back into the room. He took a flying leap onto his daybed that was easily larger than any twin bed Ranelle could have given him. The father chuckled and began to sort through the collection of children's books. "What should we read tonight?" he asked the boy.

"The Rats of NIMH!" he said excitedly, immediately sliding under his comforter.

Ranelle giggled again.

Logan located the book and opened it to the bookmark from where they had left off.

"Say goodnight, darling. I will see you in the evening," Ranelle said as she sat her things down one more time. She walked over to his daybed and arranged the covers how he liked them before leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. "Sweet dreams."

"Night, Ra-Ra," Avalon answered. "I love you."

"Goodnight, Avalon. I love you, too." She stood back up and glanced at Logan with another gentle smile. "Thank you, Logan. Avalon, remember to tell your father thank-you for reading to you tonight."

"Yup!" the boy acknowledged as he adjusted his head on the pillow.

"I'll be over shortly," Logan told the woman as she collected her things and headed for her bedroom.

She nodded in response and disappeared through the door to the bedroom. Ranelle sat the paperwork and glass down on the coffee table and returned to shut the door. She paused to watch as Logan made himself comfortable at the foot of the daybed. The smile that found her was unstoppable, but it was immediately replaced with sadness. Sadness that Avalon seemed to be growing up so fast, and that there was always the chance Logan would take him away from the coven's plans, away from her...

She closed the door and moved back over to the secondary sofa and settled in her favorite corner, stretching her legs across the rest of the cushions. She leaned forward for her file folder and began to sift through the paperwork. She retrieved the pen that was being used as a paperclip and began to make adjustments to the spreadsheet.

There had been talk around the coming full moon, when their enemy would be at their deadliest potential. As one of the few elders who ran the operations of the coven house, she had to be certain the fortress could withstand long periods of time should they have to ride out nightly attacks. Blood donors had been brought in, but they needed more. The coven had once been a household of only seventy-five, but had grown to more than one hundred and seventy-five members. Space was tight; but with more vampires, there would need to be more blood available. She had also been certain to pull reports of what remained in the armory and what needed to be ordered to accurately arm everyone should it come to an all-out battle.

Ranelle hoped that wasn't the case.

She made a few more notations in the margins for Nathaniel on ordering more bedding and cots. She flipped to the infirmary's inventory report and ran the numbers of how much would suffice if it did come to the battles that plagued her nightmares. She noted more surgical equipment would be necessary for medical Shadows. The auburn-brunette chewed on the end of her pen absently, thinking.

Moon Worshippers were nasty opponents on the field, ones that she had hopes she would never have to encounter again once the prophecy was fulfilled. With all vampires under one coven, there was a chance for peace at last. But with their enemy's religion, they were given the ultimate strength and speed for the three nights the moon waxed to its fullest. She had seen the damage they could do when unmatched.

And the last time, she had walked into a village in the late 1800s to find every man, woman, and child had been savagely maimed, murdered, and bled dry. It was as if the small town had been attacked by rabid animals.

Some vampires did not deserve their immortality.

Ranelle sighed heavily again, making another note for herself about checking into what it would cost them to reopen the safe-houses outside the city. If they had to flee the compound, she needed to be sure that their coven mates had somewhere to go. She then went back to looking at the housing charts. The Shadow Stalker coven was ten floors, eight of them below ground. She wondered if there would even be enough space for them to have extra security to guard every floor. But rooms were scarce, unless some began to double-up.

She continued to flip through the pages, tallying up the right amounts at the bottom. She hoped all of her efforts weren't needed; and perhaps Logan wasn't downplaying his latest reports as being nothing to fret over.

Twenty minutes later, she didn't notice when the door opened from the sitting room off to her left. Her mouth moved in silent thoughts to herself as she continued to work. When hands touched her shoulders, she nearly jumped.

"He's asleep," Logan said from behind her, and she exhaled out of her mouth when she realized it was him. "Did I startle you?"

She glanced up at him, trying to ignore the warmth of his hands. "Somewhat. I forgot you were here," she said with a slight smile. "I was too wrapped up in ledgers."

He grinned and removed his hands, smoothing a lock of her hair before he moved around to stand in front of her. He found a seat in one of the armchairs across from the couch and removed his jacket as he sat down, draping it across the armrest. He sighed, content, as he leaned down to untie his shoes. He paused when he realized she was watching him. "May I?"

Ranelle smirked and nodded, going back to her paperwork.

Logan chuckled, undoing both sets of laces and sliding out of his boots. He leaned back at last and rested his head on the back of the winged armchair. "Looks like you've had a busy night," he said calmly, watching her.

The woman bit her bottom lip and nodded again, her blue eyes still on the spreadsheet. "As did you. You've been working late this week. Avalon was hoping we would see you."

"I'm sorry. I should have made a better effort to be here with you both."

"I'm not talking about spending time with me," she clarified.

Logan smiled, shaking his head. She was still in business-mode.

"So, what did the latest chessboard update come in as?" she asked after a couple moments of quiet.

"Just some chatter that they are coming and going more frequently," Logan told her truthfully. "I wouldn't worry about it yet. It could be nothing."