The upstairs of the inn was nearly silent, the air mostly filled with breathing and soft shuffling. Somewhere in the distance a bed was creaking rhythmically. Bram frowned, found their room, and let Bijou open the door.

The room was small for a double, but clean and pleasant. They tucked the children into the bed on the far side of the room away from the door. That left the other bed for them.

"We should stay here today," Bram said. "Regroup, come up with a plan."

"A plan?" Bijou said. "We should go straight to my mother. She'll know what to do."

"You're sure about that?" Bram asked.

Bijou sighed. "I have to come clean with you. My mother is Madame Adeline Moreau. Maybe you've heard of her."

Years of hiding his reactions couldn't save Bram from reacting to this. He stood there, staring at Bijou Moreau, a blank expression on his face, horrified.

The Madame was this omega's mother.

Of course he'd heard of her. Everyone in the underground had heard of her. The Madame owned half the criminal underground and everyone in it. She was ruthless, bloodthirsty, and supposedly a vampire. She had an eye for beautiful omega women. Rumor had it, she'd once cut a man's throat for dirtying her carpet. Her right hand woman, Molly the Butcher, collected men's jewels in jars.

"Goddesses, preserve me, I'm fucked." Bram said in Gaelic without meaning to.

"You are not fucked," Bijou replied in near perfect Gaelic. His accent was a little strange, but it was passable. "Mama is not what the rumors say about her."

"Oh?!" Bram snapped. "And what language don't you speak?"

"What language don't you speak?" Bijou shot back with a laugh.

Bram paused. He had to admit; he had no right to suspect that. "Fine," he said. "Well, as long as I get out of this with all my bits intact, I don't care who your mother is."

"Thank you," Bijou said with a smile.

"That does complicate things, though." Bram walked over to the window on the side of the kid's bed. From the window he could see out across the village towards Paris. "It means we can't just walk through the city. Your mother's turf from here is west of the Marne. That's a long walk with three kids and warring factions who'd all love to grab you and your kids."

"We can't take the kids through that."

"Mhmm," Bram agreed. "They'd slow us down, and we'd put them in danger. There is another option."

"We're not leaving them here," Bijou said firmly.

Bram turned from the window with a frown. "Leave them here? No. But we can leave them somewhere nearby. It'll take some time and take us back into the country a way, but they'll be safe while we sort this out."

"They won't be by themselves?"

"No. They'll be with… my sister."