Magnus peered down at her blankly when she turned on him with the question. After a moment, he shrugged helplessly. “It is what children do. They play outside.”
“Yes, but it’s daytime. The sun is up,” she pointed out, and peered worriedly back to Liam, searching his face for any hint that he might be about to burst into flames. That was what happened to vampires in all the movies when they were touched by sunlight. But other than a nose gone a bit red from the cold, Liam seemed fine.
“He will not burst into flames under the sun. The boy is an immortal, not one of your mythical vampires.”
Those words came from behind them and Allie turned to peer at the man who had spoken. Standing in the doorway of the room was a tall stranger with hair so fair it was almost white, and ice-blue eyes as cold as she imagined the snow outside must be.
While Magnus still appeared relaxed at her side, the other two men in the room were now sitting up as if at attention. She supposed that meant the newcomer was someone important. Not that he seemed to notice their reactions. His attention was focused wholly on her. In fact, he was peering at her with a concentration that irritated her, and a displeasure that seemed to suggest she’d said something to offend him. She didn’t particularly care. There were more important issues here than this stranger’s feelings.
“But he’s a vampire,” she said now. “I thought the sun hurt vampires.” Much to her surprise, that made irritation flicker across the man’s face.
“The sun can harm an immortal,” he said grudgingly, and then added, “But only as much as it harms a mortal. The difference is that while your skin will carry that damage and simply tan and age, our bodies will work to repair our bodies . . . and use extra blood to do so.”
That last comment made Allie go cold. To her what he said suggested Liam would need to be fed when he came inside and she just didn’t think she had it in her to feed him at the moment.
“You have been feeding that boy with your own blood?”
Allie stiffened at his sharp words. He made it sound as if she’d been doing something perverted, or at least wrong. Lifting her chin, she snapped, “That boy is my son, Liam, and since my conscience wouldn’t allow me to run around kidnapping people for him to feed off of, yes, I have been feeding him myself.”
“He’s not your son,” the man said in a distracted tone, his expression concentrated again as he peered at her.
“The hell he’s not,” Allie snapped, anger roaring through her at the very suggestion that Liam wasn’t hers.
“A mortal cannot give birth to an immortal. He is not your biological child and you obviously have no idea how to raise him if you’ve been allowing him to feed off of you.” The man’s voice was still distracted, as if the subject was of no importance whatsoever, and that just infuriated her. It also terrified her. Liam was the most important thing in her life. He was her life. Keeping him safe, healthy, and happy was her whole purpose now, yet this man seemed to be suggesting she had no business doing it. As if Liam would be better off with one of his own kind.
Would they try to take him from her? She worried suddenly, and then lifted her chin and thought grimly, Over my dead body.
Voice cold, Allie said, “I may not have given birth to Liam, but he is my son. I’ve raised him, fed him, loved him, and kept him safe since he was a month old. I’m the only mother he knows, and if you try to take him away from me, you’ll have a fight on your hands.”
She had slid her right hand into her pocket to retrieve the lighter she’d tucked there as she spoke. Now she let the can of aerosol hairspray slip out from her left sleeve and raised both. With the lighter in front of the can and her finger on the spray nozzle, she glared at the arrogant ass in the doorway and said, “Now, I may have been wrong about sunlight, but I know fire kills you people, so unless you want me to roast your ass, I suggest one of you bring me my son. We’re leaving.”