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Delilah
The weight of Aiden's arm lay heavy across Delilah, a comfortable anchor she hesitated to break. Each inhale lifted his hand, the faint scent of his skin mingling with the musk of their passion. Hours had blurred since they'd collapsed, limbs tangled, into sleep.
Aiden took a firmer hold on her, making her feel secure even as she tried to free herself to stretch. She breathed easier without waking him when he shifted. While feeling a sense of relief, Delilah also recognized the exhaustion he carried.
The dim light from her phone lit up the room, and she moved in the familiar space. Delilah grabbed his jeans off the floor, recalling their intimacy. Her heart warmed when she thought about their connection. Each kiss and whispered confession felt significant, and she worried whether their love could last, craving more.
From the window, Delilah gazed at a sky adorned with stars, each twinkling with its own distinct brilliance. Was this how they always appeared? Had she never before seen them like this, or was it that the darkness, finally free from the city's suffocating glow, had unveiled their breathtaking beauty?
Whatever the case, the sky danced, captivating all who gazed upon it.
A wail from a baby shattered the stillness. Driven by the sound, Delilah slipped her feet into Aiden's sneakers and followed a narrow path in the backyard, her senses heightened. A sudden shiver crawled up her neck. With each step, the infant's cries intensified, fueling her growing anticipation.
Standing still on the porch near Aiden's house, Merrick cradled a baby she couldn't quite see; a shadow clung to its tiny form. Despite her open eyes, she could feel his power, heightened by her new abilities. Delilah was no longer just an observer; she had entered a state of connection that ignited a powerful blend of awe and uncertainty within her.
She froze. A deep, masculine "shhhh" emerged from the doorway, like a breeze whispering through the wide space.
Delilah felt a flush creep up her neck. This was private. She started to turn, to melt back into the shadows, but the porch door protested with a loud creak.
Merrick stepped forward, silhouetted in the faint light spilling from inside. His eyes shone with an unusual, golden light that reflected the brilliance radiating from the newborn he held─a similar glow, only dimmer.
A baby werewolf.
Merrick's eyes dimmed, displaying the harsh lines of his physique under the black tank top he wore. Her attention returned to the cloaked figure. A fuzzy brown and white blanket swaddled the baby... and a small hood, pulled low. Beneath it, a half-hidden face peeked out: small ears twitching in the cool night air.
"Is that a... a ferret outfit?" she blurted, her eyes wide as saucers. Another cry erupted from the bundle in Merrick's arms, this one like a frustrated performer's tantrum. "Oh, shoot! Sorry. Am I... am I making things worse? Should I just go away?"
Merrick chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "Relax, Tinkerbell. This baby can sleep through a demolition derby." He sighed, glancing at the tiny infant swaddled in the furry getup. "And yeah... it's a ferret ensemble."
She stared at them, her brow raised. "Seriously? Who inflicted this... cuteness on him? His mother?"
Merrick descended the porch steps, his boots crunching in the snow. "Aiden. He's got a thing for ferrets and wants one as a pet."
"Holy crap! I get it now," Delilah exclaimed, her eyes drifting to the sky as memories of Aiden's last visit to her apartment flooded back. "Our hearts beat for the same creature."
"Some might call that destiny, Ms. Fox," Merrick responded, pausing for a moment, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hope Adam's sonic screams didn't drag you out of bed? Extra-strength lungs on this one, I tell ya."
Delilah swallowed, the silence stretching taut between them. Merrick was heading her way, cradling a... werewolf infant. Her oxygen-deprived brain could only think of the silliest things. "I... uh... I've never seen a baby werewolf before."
His steady approach wavered, and his expression stiffened.
Delilah took a step back in her words. "I mean, not in real life. I don't think I have. Maybe in movies? Do... do baby wolves' eyes glow like that?" Her voice was thin and reedy, striving to fill the empty space in the conversation. The words poured out, an unsteady, ceaseless stream. "I'm going on a bit, aren't I?"
Merrick's tense smile revealed that she was, in fact, right. "A little," he replied. "That's a newborn wolf thing. The glow sticks around for six months. And Adam here," he gestured to the baby, who emitted a soft, whimper-like yawn, "has this crying gig every night, same time. Just a baby thing, according to the books my sister has read."
She bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted to burrow into the ground and disappear. The sleep deprivation wasn't just making her feel like a fool; it was transforming her into one. Merrick's effort to keep chatting just made things even more awkward.
Delilah wrapped her arms around herself as a cool breeze swept through. "Is Chloe doing better?" she asked.
Merrick's attention shifted from the newborn to her. A worn but pretty smile stretched across his face. "She's sleeping. The home birth went great, actually. My sister is... well, she's Superwoman. I still can't believe she did this after six miscarriages." He wiped a loose strand of hair off his forehead, his eyes shining with amazement. "I'm here keeping Adam company while she rests; it's really easy so far."
Delilah chuckled, a nervous edge to her tone. "Your sister's strong. I'd probably be in the bathroom, crying and worried about hurting the baby."
Merrick smiled as he looked at her. "My sister has done that a few times." He turned, twisting his body to allow Delilah to view Adam's face. "His father should be here," he muttered, spitting the words like poison. "Left a note for her two months ago. Gone. Just like that." A muscle ticked in his cheek. "Coward. Utter, spineless coward."
Delilah's eyelids fluttered, a slow descent. Merrick's words landed like a weight, filling her heart with stunned silence. A faint smile touched her lips, a quiet defiance blooming there. "That's his loss, truly. A precious soul like this needs love."
"Thank you for that, and we're going to keep this little man safe," he said, sucking in a breath. Merrick's eyes flicked─a quick glance at the baby, followed by a more frantic scan of the area─revealing a worry that his words barely concealed. "I just hope things settle down regarding Lowell. The last thing we need is the Embassy hovering over us."
Her breath caught at the mention of the Embassy, a term spoken by Cynthia to Aiden, hinting at formidable entities beyond her understanding. Could they be some sort of Congress for the Supernatural?
Delilah looked to him for a verbal response.
"Who exactly are they?" There was a hint of fear in her tone that felt new and unexpected. "And what is their purpose?"
She shivered as the wind clawed at her flesh.
Merrick gestured toward the porch. "Kitchen's that way. It might be warmer in there."
Her teeth chattered, her eyes darting toward the front door. "Okay... but your sister's sleeping, right? We don't want to wake her."
A grimace tightened the corners of Merrick's mouth. "Trust me," he murmured, shaking his head, a hint of weary amusement in his eyes. "Chloe isn't stirring for anything short of an earthquake. Being a new parent can have a profound impact on people."
Delilah followed him in the front door, her eyebrows furrowing. The scent of pine and something sweet filled the air, and warmth enveloped her body. She pulled out a chair at the dining table, the wood scraping against the worn floorboards, and settled in.
He adjusted the baby against his chest, a small hand clutching a fistful of his shirt.
Just then, without looking at her, Merrick's voice drifted through the silence─a gentle whisper. "For millennia," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of history, "supernatural entities have engaged in unending conflicts. Then came a woman... or rather, a void. Driven by a relentless need for control, she sought to capture us all beneath a veneer of peace. She used empathy as a tool, turning it into a cruel illusion so that no one would ever find out what she wanted and many would promise their loyalty."
Merrick's voice, a flat monotone, echoed in the tense room. Words flowed like rehearsed lines, each syllable precise but devoid of emotion.
Delilah searched his face for a hint of explanation beneath the polished mask. Then, a slight quiver in his jaw showed the conflict within.
"Ursula Thornton," he said. "Her name tasted of chlorophyll and lightning. She valued science, but she faced the difficulty of balancing authority. Supernatural factions existed in a state of constant animosity. Vampires prowled through the darkness while wolves aimed to reclaim their territories."
Adam cooed as Merrick's chest rose. He hesitated, his voice faltering, before continuing the story.
"Ursula's schemes ignited wars as her hidden laboratories hosted brutal experiments. Her relentless pursuit of ideal candidates drove her to drastic actions, with her true motives hidden. Focusing on Alphas for their authority, she used abduction, manipulation, and betrayal to create fiends."
A brief pause hung in the air before Merrick continued, "The woman was specifically dedicated to creating the perfect species, and she almost pulled it off."
Delilah's brow furrowed. "With wolves... or the other factions?"
Merrick scoffed, a humorless sound. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more weary than deliberate. "Ursula saw our kind as pure. Untainted. Thought our abilities were extraordinary." He spat the word extraordinary like a curse. "An archangel gave our ancestors a gift. We could evolve and transcend humanity. She believed that made us superior." His laugh was a dry, humorless rasp. "If Hayyel hadn't interfered... hadn't played God... we wouldn't be having the issues we have today." He inhaled, his gaze fixed on Adam as the baby cooed in his arms. "This war... it's all his legacy."
She frowned. "Wait, so the archangel is... like, a curse?"
Merrick fidgeted with Adam's blanket, shifting his weight and dropping his head. "Some days..." He swallowed, the words catching in his throat. "Some days, I can't help but see it that way. But then... the faces of our forefathers stand out in my thoughts, scarred by the sacrifices they made. And I remember. Because of them, we have this neutrality."
"What do these people at the Embassy do?" Delilah sat there, captivated, eager to uncover more about this group, and reflected on the influence they were having on the supernatural world.
Merrick looked her in the eye as he said, "For the sake of human safety, they ensure the supernatural has boundaries. They track down rogue ones and deal with them as they see fit. This all happened after Ursula's downfall."
"Are they... human?" Delilah pondered.
Merrick smiled. "Their humanity has helped keep all factions in check and out of sight. Some people are better off not knowing the truth. Most people, really."
Delilah nodded, a shiver of apprehension accompanying her relief. Even though their words sounded a bit dark, she really valued that the Embassy was speaking up for humanity. Someone had to.
A notion struck her: Did the president know about them? Maybe deep in a confidential file, among the revelations of JFK and Area 51, was this knowledge.
She sighed as they both gazed at the baby. The screen door's old hinges groaned, breaking the silence.
Aiden filled the doorway, a shaft of warm light painting the easy curve of his smile. His arm snaked around Delilah's waist, pulling her against his side. "I thought I heard voices in here." He tilted his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he scanned the room. "You look like you've seen a ghost, baby."
Delilah practically threw herself at him, her hand clutching his forearm. "No, just catching up. Merrick was sharing some stories about the Embassy and its history with me." Her voice hitched, the last word barely audible.
He raised an eyebrow at Merrick as if to ask him something. "Interesting history, indeed. One that couldn't wait until the baby was asleep?"
Merrick moved, hugging the infant close. "Adam doesn't really have a sleep schedule, you know. But you're right." His chest rose as he took a breath. "I should try to put him back to sleep. And maybe get some rest myself."
Delilah sprang to her feet so fast that she almost slipped. "Of course. Thanks for explaining everything to me, Merrick." She clutched Aiden's hand, a frantic urgency in her eyes. "Come on. Let's go back to your place and leave them alone."
Aiden's chest vibrated with a low chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he slapped Merrick's shoulder, the impact echoing slightly in the quiet room.
"Sleep well," he said, the words laced with the weight of unspoken anticipation.
Merrick rubbed his tired eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Easier said than done," he mumbled. "Good night to you too, bro."
The couple slipped out the back door, the long shadows of the streetlights stretching and distorting as they walked, Aiden's hand clasped in hers. Though the night held a lingering chill, his touch was a small comfort.
Soon, they were back inside, and in the quiet of his room, Aiden pulled Delilah close, his arms offering a deeper warmth, a sanctuary against the unease that lingered in the air.
"Do you have any questions?" he asked, his fingers tracing soft circles along her forehead.
She pressed her face against his chest, the cotton of his shirt soft against her skin. "Not now. It's been... a long day."
Her words felt weak, a fragile barrier against reality. Minutes ticked by, punctuated by the rhythmic thump beneath her ear as she burrowed deeper under the duvet.
Aiden's heartbeat, once a source of comfort, now served as a mere metronome, symbolizing the passing of time. Even shrouded in the darkness, tucked against him.
Merrick's words resonated like a low, persistent hum, a ghost of a sound she couldn't quite banish. The shadows offered a hiding place, but they couldn't silence the internal tremor that still shook her.
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