Carl Wilson
"It's not going to get any better," Grandma says, coming out of the bedroom. She smells strongly of healing herbs and incense she was using on Ivy, and she wiping off her magical tools before putting them back into her satchel. Nathan is sitting across the room from me.
Ivy is twelve weeks pregnant. She claims it is Ben's, but all three of us in the room know vampires are sterile. All three of us also know beyond every shadow of a doubt that Ivy is special in ways far beyond what any of us had ever suspected. Even Grandma with her family prophecy that someone in her line would bring a child into the world that would irrevocably change the vampire lines, never suspected that it would be a child with vampire blood that would do it. Yet here Ivy is, and Grandma cannot deny that the child in her womb has vampire blood.