Ranelle sighed heavily in her sleep, smiling as she felt Logan's hand travel down her arm before slipping around her middle and stroking her stomach. When he pressed his hips against her playfully, her grin turned into a smirk. "You'd best let me sleep," she warned teasingly, sounding drowsy.

He caressed her stomach again. "You sure you want to sleep?" he asked, his voice husky as his breath brushed past her ear from where he was curled up behind her, tucking her smaller body into his. His kissed her neck gently.

"You're trying to convince me," she murmured.

"Yes, I am," he teased.

"You're terrible," she whispered, trying not to giggle when his fingers dipped down towards her hips. "That tickles."

"I know," he whispered, "I'm such a terrible, terrible man."

Ranelle sighed, enjoying the feeling of his hands and lips against her skin. When his fingers rubbed back and forth across her stomach again, she tried not to give in to the sleep that was still beckoning her home into dormancy. The feeling of his body heat was comforting, and she found herself on the edge of the foggy dream-world between sleep and waking.

The past three-and-a-half years had gone by faster than she would have thought. But they had settled into their lives with ease. For Ranelle, it felt as though they were finally living the life she had dreamed of for hundreds of years. Avalon was growing up just as quickly and had turned seven a few months previous. Watching him blossom had given her purpose and satisfaction in everything she did. They were safe and happy, deep in their underground stronghold.

After calling off the search for his ex-wife, Logan had asked her to marry him. He had moved into her apartment once it was official. And soon after that, they discovered something else had changed...

Logan exhaled softly against her hair, taking in the smell of her lavender shampoo on his next breath. He kissed the back of her neck once more. He rubbed her belly again. His hand rested on the curve there, still getting used to her new shape. He smiled, his mouth bowing down to kiss her shoulder. He tuned his ears to listen to the sounds of her body, picking up on the faint and fast, rapid heartbeat of the surprise they were given three years previous.

It still didn't feel real to him, to finally have the life he had wanted since the 1920s. And while it had been over three calendar years, their vampire bodies aged slower. One year to a human was only a month to their nearly-immortal counterparts. And he had enjoyed every slow minute of watching the newest member of their family grow.

"I love you," he murmured against her skin.

"And I love you," she breathed sleepily.

They lay there for another few moments, dozing in the late evening quiet.

"Mum?" came the sound from the other room. "Mu-u-u-um-m!"

Ranelle sighed softly, hearing Avalon's voice. She began to sit up, starting to push the covers off her legs.

"I've got it," Logan whispered. "You sleep."

"Thank you," she answered.

Logan smiled and rolled over to his side of the bed. He pulled the covers off and got to his feet. He grabbed his night pants and pulled them on over his underwear. He glanced back at Ranelle where she was curled up in bed. The grin that came over him was unstoppable.

Life was perfect.

He turned to go back into the sitting room that been turned into Avalon's bedroom and classroom. "What's wrong, Avalon?" he asked, his voice quiet so as not to wake up Ranelle.

The boy turned around from where he had been facing the door. His face was pale as he heaved a breath. "Dad, they're coming!" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I saw them."

"Who's coming?" Logan asked, frowning. He moved into the room and sat down on the foot of the daybed.

"They are, the bad people," the boy insisted. "I was dreaming and I saw them. They were on the roof and they broke the door open to get to us."

Logan sighed, reaching forward to rub his shoulder. "It was just a dream, Avalon. You're safe here. No one is coming for us."

"No, they were! I saw them," the boy said frantically, his voice higher in pitch.

The door from the bedroom opened slightly as Ranelle stood in the doorway. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Just a nightmare," Logan assured her. "Go back to bed."

"Mum, I saw them. They were here," Avalon sobbed again.

The woman sighed, coming into the room. Her nightgown brushed against her thighs as she walked, her bare feet silent on the carpet. She beckoned Logan to switch her places and she sat down next to the boy. Her arms reached for Avalon and he immediately buried his face in her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her ribs.

"Tell me what happened," she said against his hair as she hugged him.

"They were here. It was the bad people. They knew where we were, and they wanted us," he repeated. "I saw them. They were breaking the door, and they said they were coming for us. They had guns!"

Ranelle inhaled slowly, glancing up at Logan. "I'm sure it was just a nightmare, darling," she consoled. "We're perfectly safe here."

"You promise?" Avalon asked, his voice still sounding panicked.

She nodded and stroked his hair. "I promise. It was only a bad dream."

Logan frowned, looking at his son. Something in his stomach churned. He hadn't given the Moon Worshippers much thought in recent months and he wondered if that had been naïve of him, to only think of all the good that was happening within their small home at the end of the hall. But the enemy had attempted to attack, coming after Shadow Stalker outposts around the city. Thankfully, there had only been one or two casualties to their forces, but he had never thought that Moon Worshippers would try to attack the main coven house. He'd been too wrapped up in his happiness to consider another assault would be possible on the Shadow Stalkers' London coven.

Ranelle sighed again and brushed her nose across the top of Avalon's blonde hair. "Why don't you go back to sleep? It's not even sunset yet."

"Good idea," Logan agreed. "You both need your rest."

Avalon looked up at his parents, his eyes still wide with panic. "Can I sleep with you?" he asked softly, his eyes shifting from his father to his mother.

Ranelle quirked her mouth. She followed Avalon's gaze up to Logan again.

The man sighed and nodded. "I'll stay out here. You two go sleep in the bed."

Ranelle gave him a gentle smile, looking apologetic. "We can stay out here," she propositioned.

His head shook. "No, you'll be more comfortable in bed. I'll stay here."

She smiled and nodded. "C'mon, Avalon," she said as she got up to her feet. She held out her hand for him and he took it quickly, his small fingers wrapping around hers. She led the seven-year-old back into the bedroom and watched him crawl into the king-sized bed. She waited for him to get comfortable before she slid in, too.

The auburn-brunette laid down on Logan's side of the mattress, arranging herself on his pillows before carefully folding the sheets around her stomach. As she settled, Avalon crawled into the center and laid his head on her shoulder. She sighed, letting him pull the covers up to his chin before she could hear his breathing deepen with sleep again.

"Goodnight, darling," she whispered.

"G'night, Mum," he murmured, half-asleep.

Ranelle smiled and her blue eyes closed.

She dozed for another couple hours, her body attuned to the sun sinking beneath the horizon. And despite it being officially night, she let her mind drift in dreams while Avalon still slept beside her. She could faintly hear Logan moving around in the sitting room, but she paid him no mind. He would only be working. Her thoughts drifted deeper into dormancy and she gave in to them.

She had been so tired in recent months, constantly awake well before sunset with evening sickness from her pregnancy. For the first time in weeks, she was able to sleep through the twilight hours and into the night. She sighed and turned onto her side, pulling Avalon closer when he squirmed to press his face into her neck where it was darkest. Her fingers rest on the back of his head before skimming down to rub his back for a moment.

Just as Ranelle was about to give in to the deepest waves of sleep, a loud wail sounded, causing her to sit up quickly. She turned immediately to the wall near the sitting room's door, seeing the red light there begin to flash. Floors above, the shrieking alarm bells continued to sound.

"Logan!" she called, just as Avalon shot up from his slumber.

"Mum!" the boy cried out, scared.

Logan slammed the door open to the bedroom, looking in on them. "You okay?" he called.

She nodded, immediately getting out of bed and grabbing for the nightstand drawer where his pistol and extra clip waited. She pulled the weapon free just as he reached her and took it out of her hands.

"It could be nothing, but stay here," he told her. He slid the holster onto the waistband of his sweatpants. He added the reserve clip on his opposite side and turned to grab his t-shirt from the night before that lay at the foot of the bed.

"Where are you going?" she asked over the noise, panic in her voice.

"Just to the hallway to see if anyone else is down here. Stay here," Logan answered. "I won't go far. Avalon, stay with your mother."

The two nodded and Ranelle corralled Avalon to head to the back of the room out of eyesight from the sitting room door. She made sure she put as much furniture between them and the walkway as possible.

Logan went to the front door just as he got his shirt all the way on. Before he could open it, there was a loud pounding on its hard surface from the hallway. He quickly drew the firearm from his side.

"Logan? Ranelle?" came the sound of Vincent's voice over the sirens.

Logan sighed in relief and checked the peep hole to be certain Vincent was alone before he opened the door. "What's going on?" he asked above the noise.

"The top level's door has been busted through," the Italian answered. He glanced towards the end of the hall, an automatic rifle in one hand. A radio was strapped to his belt. "We're sending all of the guards to the upper floors and moving everyone else down towards our level."

"How many are there?"

"Couldn't tell on the monitors. Marcius and Nathaniel went up with their teams to engage. Kearran is holding the Echo team down on L-Four to cut off anyone who gets past them. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, we're fine," the Blood Warrior answered, holding the door open for him and the Italian stepped inside. He stuck his head back out into the corridor to see three guards all stationed inside the floor's external door, waiting for any threat that may make it down to the Winslow floor.

He stepped back and pushed the door shut, flipping the locks and the deadbolt. He glanced at the large buffet table that sat just inside the door. He holstered the handgun again. "Help me with this."

Vincent nodded and slung his rifle across his shoulder. As Logan moved the breakables and belongings—Ranelle would stake him if they broke her antique china bowl—off the top of the table, the Italian coven mate drug the heavy oak table in front of the door.

Logan sighed in relief and then began to move backward, his body facing the door as he prepared himself for anything. "What were you able to find out before you came down here?" he asked as he walked sideways over to the sitting room door and pulled it shut, leaving Avalon and Ranelle within the bedroom, safe from harm.

"Not much," Vincent answered. "There was a lot of smoke rising up from the main door. I think they used some sort of explosive to bust it open. Cameras were out from the street level."

"And the back entrances?" Logan asked as he and Vincent moved towards the back of the room to put the daybed, couch, and armchairs between them and the door.

"All was quiet. Nothing looked out of the ordinary." The man slung his rifle back up into his hands, pressing the butt of the stock into his shoulder. "After those isolated attacks at the outposts, I've had this gut feeling they were just testing the waters."

Logan's jaw clenched. He wished he'd felt the same. But he had somehow let his warrior reputation lie dormant as he enjoyed his new domestic normal. And tonight, he'd failed in the one thing he had promised to do: protecting his family. "Let's hope it's nothing more than a few bloody pricks trying to make themselves into heroes," he said.

"Amen to that," Vincent stated, nodding.

"Vince, come in," a woman's voice came from over the radio, barely able to be heard among the screams of the sirens. Static followed in loud crackling. "Vincent!"

"This is Vince," the Italian answered after pulling the radio closer to his mouth from off his belt. "Talk to me, Kearran."

"What's—twenty?" the broken question came over amongst the white noise.

"All good in Bristol," he replied in code, meaning Logan's and Ranelle's rooms.

Logan looked up at the ceiling above them as gunfire let loose high overhead from one of the upper floors. "How many?" he questioned for the radio's reception to Kearran.

"What's the play?" Vincent asked into the walkie-talkie.

"Fifteen up top, five others down," Kearran said, her voice disrupted by static and gunfire.

The Blood Warrior inhaled, bracing himself. It was a small number that had breached the doors, but that didn't mean more couldn't be far behind. He glanced up at the ceiling again when more bullets sounded. His emerald green eyes then shot towards the bedroom door when he heard Avalon cry out in fear. He moved over to the door quickly and cracked it open enough to look in. "You all right?" he called over the noise.

Ranelle nodded as she held Avalon tightly to her side, his head resting against her baby bump, his hands grasping her nightgown with white knuckles. The woman held onto his shoulders, keeping him close in case she needed to push the boy behind her.

"Take him into the bathroom and lock the door," Logan ordered. "Stay there until I come for you." He watched as the two hurried into the back of the apartment, their bodies colored by the red flashing light. Once he saw the door shut, he hurried back to the sitting room in time to hear Vincent's radio go off again.

"Moving men down to L-Five from L-Four," Kearran's static-filled voice called out. "Taking fire on L-Three."

Logan growled under his breath. He was helpless to aid them, knowing if he and Vincent left their positions, it then would leave his wife and son undefended. He glanced up when the sounds of the fight continued and he could hear people moving into the hall the floor above as they took shelter. "How many left?"

"Kearran, how many men?" Vincent asked.

"I've shot three myself. I think we got five others. They should be down to seven. Nathan has some engagement on L-Two still. Hang tight, Bristol."

Vincent sighed, his eyes following Logan's gaze to the ceiling again. "Only a handful left to put down. Shouldn't be a problem."

"Let's hope so," Logan agreed.

After twenty more minutes of distant gunfire and hissing communications from the radios, it finally grew quiet. Logan sighed in relief when the sounds from the floor above began to subside as people went back to the other floors. He kept his pistol drawn, just in case. As the sirens subsided and the warning lights were turned off, there was another knock on the door.

"Logan? Vincent?"

It was Marcius.

"Everything all right in there?"

"All good," Vincent answered. He slung his rifle back onto his shoulders again and moved forward to unblock the door. He and Logan slid the buffet table out of the way of the doorframe before Logan holstered his gun and undid the bolt and locks.

The Blood Warrior held it open for the second-in-command. "What's the status?"

"Bloody wankers tried to get a jump on us before most of the coven was awake," Marcius answered, his tone harsh with the most emotion Logan had ever heard him use. He stepped in, wiping his brow free from sweat. "Nathaniel's team cut them off before they got past L-Two, but I don't think we knew there were that many of them. Kearran and her men got the last of them from whoever got past us."

"Any casualties?" Vincent asked.

"Just two, the men on L-One who got caught off-guard."

Logan continued to listen, but went to the bedroom to retrieve Ranelle and Avalon. He moved around the furniture and then walked to the bathroom door. He knocked gently. "Ranelle?"

"We're fine," his wife answered and he heard her undo the lock from inside. Ranelle opened the door, revealing Avalon sitting on the floor behind her and wrapped in her dark grey robe. He looked afraid still, his face pale. She glanced behind her at him. "It's okay, Avalon."

Logan nodded, stepping into the bathroom to put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her against him. He could feel the small swell of her stomach on his hip and he kissed the top of her head. "It's over," he assured his son and held his free hand out to the boy.

Avalon got up, shrugging out of his adoptive mother's robe and rushed to hug his father's leg as Logan's hand settled on his back. "Are they gone?" the boy asked.

"Yes, they're gone," Logan answered. "We're safe again."

Ranelle sighed in relief and nodded against his chest.

"Come on, let's get you two out of here," Logan said. He led his family back out into the bedroom and then the sitting room. He nodded to Marcius and Vincent to show everything was fine.

Marcius glanced at Ranelle and then Avalon before his shoulders seemed to slump from their tense position. "Good to see you're both unscathed."

"How many were there?" Ranelle asked as she sat Avalon down on the couch.

"Less than twenty," the blonde-haired male answered her. "They came with a mission in mind to catch us off-guard."

The woman frowned, finding a seat in an armchair. "Any casualties?"

"Only two," Vincent replied.

"It's been years since they've even set foot near the main coven house. What on earth would possess them to try their luck this time?" she asked. "It's not as if we've retaliated for their attacks on the outposts."

Marcius and Vincent exchanged looks before glancing from Logan to Ranelle. Finally, Marcius's eyes landed on Avalon, where he sat on the couch and had buried himself under his favorite throw-blanket. The man sighed heavily.

"Marcius, tell me," Ranelle said, her voice stern. "This isn't a time to be silent."

Vincent looked at the woman and then Logan. "Send the boy out of the room."

Logan frowned. He turned to his son. "Avalon, will you please go in the bedroom? I'll tell you when you can come back out again. Close the door behind you."

The boy got up, bringing his blanket with him. Without complaint, he walked into his parents' bedroom and shut the door.

Once he was gone, the Shadow Stalker second-in-command sighed heavily. "Kearran was able to question one of the men before he died. His answer was very clear... They came to kill in the name of the prophecy."

Ranelle's face paled and she looked at her husband.