Adrienne rushed past the woman and paused only briefly on the landing to get her bearings. She snarled at the colored ribbons of light flickering on the red-carpeted stairs as she gingerly side-stepped them while hurrying to the floor below, the coos of the infant guiding her to where the child lay.
She followed the sounds to a closed door where she paused. Her broken mind trying to send her images, a message of some sort about the child, but she shook her head scattering whatever it tried to tell her away. Adrienne opened the door and silently moved into the darkened room. She looked around, taking in the heavy drapes covering the windows, allowing only a tiny sliver of sunlight into the room at the far end, furthest away from the crib the child now lay in, cooing to herself, kicking her tiny feet and waving her hands in the way that babies did.
Slowly Adrienne approached the crib and leaned over, watching the baby lying helplessly there. Adrienne’s head canted to the side ever so slightly, taking in the movements of the child. Taking in the sweet, heady scent of a clean, freshly washed baby. She reached in, lifting the baby into her arms and bringing the child close to her face to inhale the sweet scent. She breathed it in deeply, pressing her nose to the child's stomach, then moving up to press her nose to the baby’s chest and neck.
The light switch behind her clicked on and the lights above them on the raised, ornate ceiling flared to life. Adrienne opened her eyes and raised them to the decorative chandelier above her head. She held the baby up with both hands, her thumbs spread across the child’s chest and shoulders, her fingers spread out across the child’s back. She held the baby up so that she could see her face-to-face, as she canted her head side-to-side once more, looking wondrously at the tiny baby girl.
“Adrienne, my darling, put her down,” a familiar voice said softly, yet firmly from the doorway behind her.
A rumble sounded in Adrienne’s chest, more a warning to the owner of the voice behind her than anything else.
“She is your daughter. She is so much like your own mother. Look at her, do you see it?” the voice asked her.
Adrienne’s brow creased as she looked at the baby still held aloft by her own hands. The baby kicked her little feet and struggled to hold her head up to look back at Adrienne. Then she did see it. This baby was so familiar.
“Her name is Solange. Do you remember, Adrienne?”
Adrienne slowly brought the baby closer to her face. Her mouth fell opened as she pressed her nose to the baby’s chest once more, revealing the small pinpoints of her still developing fangs.
Solange reached out with both hands and gripped Adrienne’s greasy, dirty hair where it fell, plastered against her temples and her cheeks.
Adrienne tried to pull back a bit, but Solange held tight. When finally Adrienne pulled back enough to look into the baby’s face, Solange cooed at her, offering a slobbery, toothless grin.
Adrienne’s face crumpled into a grimace as bloodstained tears tracked their way down her face. This was her little girl. This baby knew her, trusted her.
“Solange,” Adrienne whispered.
“Yes. Solange. And she’s yours,” Marceline said, her own voice cracking, both with fear for the child, and heartbreak at what her granddaughter had become.
Slowly Adrienne laid Solange back in her crib, then covered her with the soft blanket as she sobbed and patted the baby’s leg before backing away from the crib and moving toward the window at the other end of the room that offered a sliver of sunlight between the heavy drapes covering the window.
“Adrienne?” Marceline said, warningly. Trying to caution Adrienne about moving too close to the windows, to the sunlight that would certainly cause her harm.
Adrienne turned and hurried the rest of the way to the window before she had time to consider her decision. She reached it and spun to face Marceline, pushing her back against the drapes. She raised her red-glowing eyes to her grandmother and whispered the only words she’d said other than the name of the male that had ruined her, since she’d been left in labor in the courtyard by that same cursed male. “Forgive me.”
“It is not your fault, my darling. We will find a way to reverse it.”
Adrienne shook her head frantically. “There is no other way.” Then her eyes went to the crib. “Love Solange. Prepare her. Make her strong.”
“Adrienne…” Marceline said, taking a step toward Adrienne and the window she stood with her back to.
“No!” Adrienne shouted. “Stay away!” she shrieked. Then she turned and faced the floor to ceiling, stained glass window shrouded in the heavy drapes Marceline had ordered to cover them. She knew what was hidden behind those dark drapes — she knew her salvation, and the safety of her child lay just on the other side. She grasped the drapes and threw them back to reveal the sunshine streaming through the colored glass, while at the same time she screamed in agony as that same beautifully tinted sunlight fell upon her flesh, causing sizzling and rancid smoke to spontaneously waft from her spindly arms and chest. Adrienne took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the last breath she’d ever take, then screamed a heart wrenching shriek as she stepped back then charged at the window and hurled herself through it. Her scream followed her down to the sunny, bright courtyard below, where her body combusted into flames before it even landed on the slate paving stones covering the courtyard.
Marceline shouted, begging her to stop. “Adrienne! No! We can find a way to save you!” But, it made no difference, her pleas fell on deaf ears. Her beloved granddaughter was gone. She’d thrown herself out of the stained glass window, plummeting to her death two stories below. Marceline rushed to the window, leaning out to better see the courtyard, repeatedly screaming Adrienne’s name every step of the way. She sobbed as she looked down into the courtyard Adrienne had once loved to play in. There was nothing left of Adrienne but a small scattering of ashes, a spark of flame still flickering here and there. Marceline dropped to her knees, sobbing and calling Adrienne’s name as what was left of her heart shattered.
Behind her, lying in her crib, Solange cried out, sobbing uncontrollably for the first time since her birth, feeling the loss of her mother in her tiny, brand-new soul. A mother that she’d never know, yet even as an infant was inexplicably connected to by a magic they both shared.
Marceline, urged to her feet by the screams of the baby in the crib across the room from her, rushed to her side. Using her body to block the shafts of sunlight from falling on Solange, thinking that the reason for the baby’s cries, she scooped her up into her arms. Marceline checked for burns, and anything to indicate the sunlight had harmed her. On seeing Solange unharmed, Marceline sank to her knees once again, cradling the baby to her chest. A smile on her face, mixed with the tears of grief streaming down her cheeks, she pressed her lips to Solange’s forehead. “ Your mother is gone, my little angel,” she sighed. “But you are blessed, the sunlight won’t hurt you, little one,” she murmured.
Solange cried still, though she calmed a bit as her great grandmother spoke to her.
“It’ll be okay,” she promised as the child continued to cry. “I’ll take care of you,” Marceline said, before she lost her ability to speak through her own tears of grief.
~~~