Rain poured down on the dark figure that limped through the dimly lit city streets. Crying could be heard through the roaring rain, a bundle in the figure's arms. Cold or just aware of what was about to happen, the figure did not know.

She hoped it wasn't the latter. She wasn't sure she could do what she needed to if it was.

Her limp deepened with the heaviness of the decision she'd made.

All along the street, boarded-up doors watched her, watched the infant in her arms. At the end of the street, however, stood her salvation.

The only home with a light on, the only home that wasn't boarded against her presence.

The baby's crying grew, the infant squirming in her mother's arms.

It hurt. It hurt, to hear her child's cries.

She'd only have to endure them a little longer. Then her daughter would have a chance at life, and she'd be gone from the picture.

She didn't want to do it. She did not want to give her daughter up.

But if she didn't...

She didn't want to know what the child's father would do to her, should she remain with her mother.

It was for the better, she told herself. It was for the better.

Dragging herself to that door, the female knocked once. She held her daughter just a little closer, her tired eyes watching for any movement.

A shadow shifted beneath the door, and it opened to reveal an older vampire. Soon, his wife, a Fae, appeared beside him.

She didn't know how she managed it, but she shifted the child from her arms to theirs.

The infant's screaming grew.

Her heart shattered.

Swallowing back the hurt in her heart, she turned away.

"Wait," said the Fae female, "Come inside. If only so we can make sure you'll survive the night."

She hesitated.

If she went in there, if she stayed even a moment longer with her daughter... She wasn't sure she'd be able to leave.

"Please," the Fae said, "You're hurt."

She just nodded. The vampire offered her a hand, helping her inside.

It hurt so, so badly just to walk inside. She knew it'd hurt more to leave.

The door closed behind her, the sound of the rain dulling. Her baby quieted, reaching for her mother.

She whimpered, fighting back the urge to grab her daughter and run.

"She'll be safe here," the Fae promised her, "Don't worry about her. Let us help you."

It didn't help, even if she knew the Fae couldn't lie.

She didn't protest as the vampire led her into their kitchen, sat her down, and began checking her over for wounds.

They'd be hard to find, with her obsidian purple skin, but they were there.

She'd just barely escaped that castle with her life, with her daughter's life. She didn't even mind that she'd left behind her tongue.

"Does the little one have a name?" the vampire asked, taking a bowl of water from the table.

As if they knew she'd show up with wounds.

She shook her head.

No name. She couldn't have spoken one, had she'd let herself name her daughter.

The vampire nodded. "My mate has one in mind, if you'd like to hear it."

Did she? Did she want to know her daughter's name? Would she be able to leave if she did?

Would she be able to leave if she didn't?

She nodded.

"Nemyria," the Fae said, standing in the door way. "I was thinking about naming her Nemyria. Do you like it?"

It was beautiful. Nemyria was absolutely beautiful, even for a half-demon, half-whatever-the-hell her father had been.

A scheming, lying bastard. A scheming, lying bastard that was somehow still half Fae.

She nodded.

"Then that shall be her name," the Fae said.

She smiled. Nemyria. Her beautiful little Nemyria.

Pain flared through her body as the vampire began the process of washing, dressing, and bandaging her wounds. She allowed a hiss, but did not flinch, did not cry out.

She'd upset her Nemyria enough already. She didn't want to upset her any further.

"I'm going to go get her changed," the Fae said, "We'll be back soon, okay?"

Again, she nodded. The Fae left, and her husband waited for her footsteps to fade before he asked, "They took your tongue?"

She nodded. The vampire grumbled something about the royals being bastards, and he returned to cleaning her wounds.

"Where will you go?" he asked.

She shrugged.

Away from here, she knew. Far enough away that her daughter would be safe, but not far enough that the king would stop hunting for her.

She could take being hunted. She could not take her daughter being hunted. So, as long as the king followed her and did not look for her daughter, things would be okay.

It was why she'd picked this couple, this city.

This couple was known for taking in children, especially those of demons. No one would question a new half-demon child. The king likely would never even hear of it. Even if he did, this city was within the vampire's domain. The Fae king came here, and it'd be an act of war.

So, her daughter was safe. Her Nemyria was safe.

"You don't expect to find safety, do you?" he asked.

She nodded.

The man sighed. Moving on to dressing and wrapping her wounds, he said, "If at any time you choose to come back, we will not bar you from seeing her."

A small, thankful smile was all she offered.

A silence followed, only breaking when he finished wrapping her wounds and backed away.

"Be careful when you leave. Your wounds have not yet sealed," he said.

She dipped her head in acknowledgement.

Footsteps sounded, a baby cooed, and she looked up to see the Fae return, Nemyria in her arms. Dressed in a light pink onesy, the baby beamed at her mother, throwing up and waving her tiny hands. She smiled, a small purr rumbling for her throat.

"Would you like to hold her?" the Fae asked.

Selfish. It was so damn selfish of her, but she nodded.

The Fae eased the girl into her arms, and she held her gently. The baby smiled up at her, her orange eyes bright.

She took after her father in coloring, but her horns, claws, and tail all matched her mother's.

The demon female let out another purr, pressing a kiss to her daughter's forehead, forgetting for just a moment that this was the last day she'd ever have with her baby.

But, of course, reality soon came rushing back in. Brushing a gentle thumb over her daughter's forehead, she gazed down at the girl.

It was for the better, she told herself. It was for Nemyria's better.

Pressing a final kiss to her daughter's forehead, she shifted the baby back into the Fae female's arms. Her daughter let out a curious coo, tilting her head. It was a struggle to fight down her sob.

Somehow, she managed a smile. Somehow, she managed to get up and leave. Somehow, she managed to accept the coat the couple offered her. Somehow, she managed to slink off into the night and never come back.