Chapter 17: Bundles of Joy

Jessica paced the shadowed halls of House Ruxnard, her bare feet slapping against the cold marble like a heartbeat gone wild. The air hung heavy, thick with that sticky summer heat that clung to her skin, making her uniform itch where it stuck to her back. She wasn't supposed to be here—not this late, not creeping through the west wing like some thief. But sleep wouldn't come, not with Kraner's voice echoing in her skull, that low growl that twisted her guts into knots… 'Be a good girl…' She hated him for it—hated herself more for how it made her shiver.

She stopped short, breath catching as voices slipped through the stillness—soft, sharp, slicing the quiet like a blade. The library door stood ajar, a sliver of yellow light spilling out, and Jessica pressed herself against the wall, heart hammering so loud she swore they'd hear it. Through the crack, she saw them: Lord Ruxnard and Perl, huddled close, their shadows dancing on the leather-bound books nobody ever read.

Ruxnard slouched in his chair, not the drunk wreck he'd been weeks ago—Kraner had polished him up some—but still a man teetering on the edge. His dark hair gleamed greasy under the lamp, fingers twitching around a glass of amber liquid… brandy, maybe. Perl leaned in, her golden skirt catching the light like liquid fire, her voice a hushed blade. "…We can't let him keep this up… you know that, don't you?"

Ruxnard nodded slow, heavy, like his head was too full to argue. "He's got too much already… money… Tanya…"

Perl cut him off, sharp as a whip. "…Exactly. We move now… before he does."

Jessica's mind raced, piecing it together like a puzzle with half the bits missing. KRANER .They were plotting against him—Perl's tone dripped with that scheming edge she knew too well, the kind that promised trouble. Her feet moved before she could think, dragging her back through the halls, breath hitching, bare soles smacking the floor. She had to tell him. Had to. Even if it meant running straight back into the fire that burned her down.

She reached his room right away, didn't knock—just shoved the door open, the hinges creaking like a scream in the dark. And there he was… Kraner, sprawled across the bed, sheets tangled around his hips, silver hair a sweaty mess sticking to his forehead. Eli—the maid with the dark curls and that nervous giggle—straddled him, her head thrown back, moaning loud enough to wake the dead. The air stank of sweat and sex, musky and thick, hitting Jessica like a punch to the chest.

Kraner's hands gripped Eli's hips, guiding her as she rode him, his thrusts deep, relentless. Those icy blue eyes glinted, catching the dim light, locked on Eli like she was his whole damn world… until they flicked to Jessica. A smirk curled his lips—slow, wicked, like he'd been waiting for her to barge in.

She froze in the doorway, her mouth getting dry, heart slamming against her ribs. "Uh… shit… Kraner…" she stammered, voice cracking like it hadn't since she was a kid. "I… I need to…"

He didn't stop—didn't even slow. Just tilted his head her way, thrusting harder into Eli, making her cry out… "Ohhh… fuck!" The maid's nails dug into his chest, leaving red streaks, and Kraner's smirk widened. "Go on… sweetheart…" he drawled, voice rough, lazy, dripping with that mocking edge. "Spit it out…"

Jessica's fists clenched, nails biting her palms, heat rushing to her face. She wanted to scream, wanted to bolt, but her stupid legs wouldn't move. "It's Perl…" she blurted, words tumbling out fast and jagged. "She's… she's with Ruxnard… in the library. Talking… about you. They're… they're planning something… something bad… Kraner, it's—"

"…Ahh…Ahhhh…Ahhhh!!!"

Eli's moan cut her off, loud and shameless, echoing off the walls. Jessica's cheeks burned—shame, anger, and something darker twisting in her gut. Kraner's eyes stayed on her, sharp now, cutting through the haze, but he didn't flinch. Just chuckled… low and dark like usual, sending a shiver down her spine. "That so?" he said, casual as hell, like she'd told him it might rain. He shifted, flipping Eli onto her back in one smooth move, pinning her down as she gasped… "Ahhh… Kraner!"

"Good to know…" he added, driving into her deeper, his smirk never fading.

Jessica's jaw dropped, words choking in her throat. "Good to…? Kraner, what the fuck!" she snapped, stepping forward, anger clawing past the mess in her head. "They're gonna screw you over… don't you get—"

"Shhh…" he cut her off, eyes flicking back to her, piercing, amused. He didn't break his rhythm, Eli squirming beneath him, panting. "I get it… Jess. Relax…" He paused, just long enough to flash that devilish grin. "…I'm ready to try out my experiments…"

She blinked, mouth open, brain scrambling. EXPIREMENTS What the hell…? But before she could ask, Eli cried out again, loud enough to rattle the damn room, and Kraner laughed—soft, low, like he'd just won a fucking war. Jessica stood there, chest heaving, caught in the heat, the chaos, the way his eyes pinned her even as he ravaged someone else. 

"Get out…" he said finally, voice calm, firm, not missing a beat. "I'll handle it…"

She didn't move right away—couldn't, maybe. Just stared… at him, at Eli's trembling legs, at the sweat dripping down his chest, glinting like liquid silver. Then finally, she turned, stumbling back into the hall, door slamming shut behind her. Loud and clear. The cool air hit her like a slap, and she slumped against the wall, breath shaky, mind spinning. He wasn't scared. Wasn't even surprised. And that… that scared her shitless.

Because whatever Perl and Ruxnard were cooking up, Kraner was already miles ahead, playing a game she couldn't even see.

Kraner didn't linger after Jessica stumbled out—door slamming shut like a thunderclap, leaving the air buzzing in his room. Eli was still panting beneath him, legs trembling, but he was already somewhere else, mind racing past her moans, past Perl and Ruxnard's little library chat. So he finished quick—sharp thrust, a low growl, rolling her off, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

 "Stay put…" he muttered, voice rough, tossing the sheet over her as he grabbed his boots.

Now it's late—real damn late. The mansion's gone quiet, those fancy lights dimmed to a flicker, casting jagged shadows up the walls like claws. The air's thick, sticky with summer heat, clinging to his skin as he moves through the halls, boots silent on the marble. He's heading for the nursery, the twins' room, where the air shifts—cleaner, but laced with this faint copper tang that hits the back of his throat. He pushes the door open, slow, hinges creaking soft, and steps inside.

The twins are there, sprawled in their cribs—little bundles of brown hair and soft snores. The boy's got one arm flopped over the edge, fingers curled loose, and the girl's tucked tight under her blanket, breathing slow. Innocent as hell, like those kids you'd see grabbing candy at the store, all sticky hands and big eyes. Kraner stands over them, shadow stretching long across the room, hitting the ceiling where those star decals glow faint green. His eyes glint—sharp, hungry, like a wolf sizing up a meal.

He's been at this for a month—sneaking in here night after night, feeding them his blood. His weak-ass human blood… too diluted, too thin, a mix of angel and demon that's barely a whisper of what he used to be. Back when he was SOMETHING—he could've snapped a neck with a flick, seduced an angel 'til she begged. Now? He's this… this frail thing, genes watered down like cheap wine. It gnaws at him, you can see it—the way his jaw clenches, teeth grinding 'til they creak.

So he's been pouring it into them—the boy gets the demon stuff, dark and thick, stinking of ash and iron. The girl? She's got the angel side—lighter, almost sweet, but sharp on the tongue. Every day, dripping it into their little mouths, watching it build… MARINATING them, making it stronger than him. And tonight—he's cashing in.

He pulls a syringe from his pocket—small, scratched-up, needle glinting in the moonlight spilling through the curtains. He leans over the boy's crib, breathing shallow, hand steady but knuckles white. "Easy… easy now…" he mutters, voice low, ragged, like he's talking to himself. The needle slides in—quick, smooth, into that tiny arm—and the kid twitches once, a soft whimper slipping out. Kraner freezes, eyes locked on that little face, but the boy settles, chest rising slow again.

He presses the plunger, slow… real slow. The blood comes out dark—black as pitch in the dim light, thick like tar. Ten times stronger than his own… he's been saying it, testing it, feeling it in his gut. He pulls the syringe back, holding it up to the window, the moonlight turning the glass red, liquid sloshing inside. That smirk creeps up—slow, wicked, curling his lips like he's tasting victory.

"Fuck… look at you…" he whispers, rolling it between his fingers, his eyes glinting. "Better than me already… huh?"