Vampire child part 3

I am now re-writing this, but here is the last part of the attempt i have been posting.

It seemed to work better with three hands, not having to use a finger as an in-between to keep her occupied.

“Dose she always chew on things?” Andréa looked at him before walking towards the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Thomas nodded.

“She starts crying otherwise, even when she was a newborn. Why? I have no idea.”

Donna piped up again “if her mother was still alive she would be latched onto a flap of skin on the back of her neck, it’s to keep their heads from bouncing and assists in developing neck muscles. As we take care of her, we will do exercises that will do much the same thing.”

Thomas nodded, and then looked at the clock. “Ladies, from here I am going to have to leave her with you for now, I am going to have to clock in now. Be good sweetie.” He kissed his little girl on the head, and she squeaked lightly.

He headed into the office, and closed the door, and immediately had to fight off the temptation to open it again so he could hear the goings on outside. He sat at his desk, facing forward for the first time since Leila was born and got down to business.

The rest of the day was taken by the two women passing the baby back and forth, doing some light housework while Thomas caught up on his back log of technical documents and order forms. Filling out the one’s and zero’s of trade agreements between not only governments but international corporations.

Evening came with an empty in-box and an e-mail from his boss complementing him on the sudden increase on his turn around rate.  He stretched before getting out of his chair, his spine feeling much better after having a full day of work without being at a series funny angles. Getting up, he left his office to see the woman talking quietly, Andréa playing with Leila pacifier in a gentle game of tug of war, while Donna folded baby onesies.

“Something wrong ladies?” they looked at him, then at each other, and then back at each other. “Uh, Mr. Riovas, when was the last time you gave her a bath?” Thomas paused, then looked at both of the woman…and blushed. “I don’t know how. After she was born I had to wash the goo off and she got a bad rash. Seemed to really hurt at the time too, only time she has ever tried to bite me.”

“Did you wash her in pure water?” Donna asked, her brow wrinkling in concern.

Thomas shook his head, “no, I used my wife’s water assistant, maybe it wasn’t strong enough, I have been using wet naps for the most part. Like I said when I placed my request, I have no idea what I am doing.”

Donna nodded, and stood, going into her bag looking for something; While Andrea passed Leila to him and took the stairs two at a time. Thomas looked down at her, and she looked up at him, confusion and apprehension marked her little face, as if she knew something unpleasant was about to happen. “There is a specialized water assist for young children and infants. Andréa and I will set up the bath while you find her another onesie” Donna fallowed the other woman up the stairs, and Thomas looked down at his still pensive looking daughter.

“Well, looks like its bath time kiddo.” This was when he was treated to his first baby scowl, and he almost doubled over in laughter.

They went upstairs and Thomas picked out another one of the many oddly colored pieces of clothing he had collected from second hand store during one of his mad dashes out while Leila napped, Navy with a lime green teddy bear on the shoulder. He also pulled out the one of the several big fluffy towels his wife bought for exactly this purpose.

He then took a deep breath to find his house smelled like the strongest tea he had ever had the pleaser of smelling. It was a green tea or earl gray smell, earthy and pungent. He poked his head into the bathroom, to see his lovely claw foot tube lined in what looked like a trash bag, the water itself looking a blackish green. Thomas made a face, he didn’t know if he really wanted to submerge his infant in that, but before he could back out of the bathroom, Andréa saw him and gave his a brilliant smile.

“Ah, Mr. Riovas, there you are. You have a change of clothes?” Thomas eyed the water dubiously while he nodded, and Andréa seemed to pick up on his misgivings and smiled gently. “Mr. Riovas, I promise that this is entirely safe and tested, while I have never bathed a baby in it solo, I am sure it will be fine.”

“What do you mean solo?” he looked at her, and she shifted uncomfortably. “Well, uh… Mr. Riovas… normally the baby holds on to the mother, so they bath together…”

“I’ll get my swimsuit.” Thomas handed Leila over to Andréa and left the bathroom, the loss coming on stronger than he had felt for a long time. He went into his bedroom and it took him a moment to find the camo-patterned trunks that he shoved in there after his last time at the pool. Before the woman in his life was stroller bound. Thomas jaw clenched and he fought ageist tears that threatened to make a bigger seaen then was necessary.

He missed her, it was as if he had lost a limb when she has died, ghost pains hit when he least expected it, causing a ruckus, and odd looks from the people if he was in public. Thomas sat down on his bed and sobbed as quietly as he could manage, before he swallowed the pain and changed into the green trunks.

Going back into the bathroom, Donna wordlessly passed him what looked like a wetsuit crossed with a chainmail shirt. He took it from her, and his confusion must have showed on his face, as her heard a light laugh. “Put it on and get in, I’ll hand her to you. Natur babies don’t like water, so her claws might manifest.”

Thomas remembered the claws his wife had brought forth from her hand after a poor uninformed mugger had tried to interrupt one of their early dates and smiled. He did as he was told, putting on the thick shirt and sat down in the warm water, the feeling of the trash bag making the whole thing feel odd.

Donna handed his daughter to him, and as soon as she hit the water, she clung to him like a baby sloth. Her eyes were big, and he face seemed distressed. Then, something splashed the water, and something dug into the shirt. Before his eyes his daughter became noticeably lighter, grew a tail and tiny stubs that looked like little sticks coming out of her back that would one day, Thomas hoped would become wings like the one’s her mother had. Her eyes grew, she got longer, and she took on the apprence of one of the tiny gargoyles he had always enjoyed looking at in the corners of larger churches.

She was covered in what felt like trimmed velvet, and he stroked her gently when Donna cleared her throat. Thomas looked at her, and she handed him a washcloth. Thomas used it to gently stroke her back. She seemed to calm down, and the cling became less desperate.

It took him almost 15 minutes to get her fur clean, the soft gray of her other form emphasizing the fact that she might have been over due for a bath and he just didn’t have enough brain cells to process anything beyond, keep baby healthy, keep baby happy. Her little ears twitched and wiggled, and she began to explore what this new body could do, Thomas having to stop her from crushing the poor rubber ducky that had caught her eye.

As her got out, he wrapped her in the big fluffy blanket and his little girl purred back at him, as if this towel was the best thing he had ever given her to ware. And he handed to a shifty looking Andréa so he could take off the wet chain mail rubber suit.

He took Leila into the bedroom and changed her into the new onesie after she changed back into a normal looking baby, and he got back into his old tired jeans and rommaons t-shirt that he always wore when he got emotional, over her mother or otherwise. He picked her up, and hugged her as tight as he dared, and kissed the side of her head.

“Your mother would be so much better at this. Thanks for dealing with me.” his daughter rumbled back at him, as if trying in her own baby way to make him feel better about his shirt comings as a single parent. He carried her out and looked at the clock, the entire process taking almost an hour and a half, bringing them neatly to the ladies off time.

Thomas showed them to the door, and said goodbye. Donna saying they would be back promptly at 6 am, and Thomas handed her a key so she could let herself in. he helped his daughter wave goodbye before closing the door. Bring the world back to its true number of people, just two.

Thomas stretched his work worn body, and looked down at his still slightly miffed child. She looked up at him, and then pushed her face into her chest, as if to say she wasn’t talking to him at the moment.

“Aw come on, they will be back tomorrow, you were fine a little while ago.”

She refused to look up, and Thomas gave a quite chuckle, which earned him and irritated growl from the tiny bundle. He walked to the other side of the room, and turned on his old 5-disk cd player.

Tapping the number 3 button, spring time came from the surround sound, and he closed his eyes, walking slowly over to a well-worn rocking chair in the corner of the room.

For the next hour, the score of the peter gynt suite gently poured from the speakers, and as time when on, Leila relaxed, finally going limp as she fell asleep on his chest. Thomas looked down, and took a moment to really look at his little girl. Reddish-brown hair that even now was begging to curl, pale as he mother, long limbs, square shoulders. She would never fit the world’s typical definition of beauty, but he had a feeling he was going to need a large stick when she got older.

He got up and took the stairs as carefully as he could, trying to keep the baby jostling to a minimum so she didn’t wake back up. Getting to the top of the stairs, he walked into the bedroom, going into the walk in closet turned nursery and placed Leila in the crib.

After a moment, he realized something was wrong. He looked at the post of the crib, and found what it was. The chain with both his mother cross and his wife’s wedding ring that normally hung on the post was gone. Donna must have moved it back into the bed room. Thomas jogged over and found it after a quick search of his dresser. Picking it up, he went back into the nursery, but stopped cold before he went in.

There was a shadow of a child sitting on the edge of the crib. It had no eyes, but Thomas could feel it watching him, as he looked, where the eyes would be sank and rose, its moth wavered with white light, like a bolt of lightning out of a storm cloud. It shifted, or jumped to its feet, and then jumped into the bed.

Fear for his daughter overcame fear for himself and Thomas dashed forward and caught the shadow before it could get into the crib, grabbing it by what seemed like its arm. After a second the chain of the necklace in his hand flashed white, his hand registering pain a moment after. By reflex Thomas shook his hand, only to realize the shadow was gone, leaving an oily stain on the railing that was quickly dissipating under the light coming from the glowing piece of jewelry.

He then hung the chain back on the post, and stood there for a moment. What was that thing, and why was it near his daughter? Why would his mother’s cross and his wife’s wedding ring do anything to it?

He looked down at his sleeping child and felt something stir in his gut. Maybe being an unassisted father was giving him dad intuition, but he knew this was nothing good.  Maybe Donna would have an idea what that thing was. Maybe there was something the UAO would know about, other children with similar... visitors. He gently stroked her cheek, and then shook his head, putting the necklace around his neck and picked her up, taking her into back into the main bedroom and put her in the warped and modified dog bed he had used to mimic her mother’s wings around her.

“Everything’s going to be okay Kid, come heaven or hell though our front door, you are going to be okay.” he kissed her head and tried to sleep. It didn’t come for a long time, but he gave it a shot.