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never meant to say goodbye

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Nikki stares down at her son, at the curve of his eyelashes and his plump, round cheeks, and wonders how she ever made something so perfect. In the bedside lamp's soft yellow light, his skin glows like some metal too precious to be named.

"Hey, baby," she says softly. He doesn't stir. Time, then.

She slips into her coat and gathers up her things--knives, stakes, crossbow--but her eyes never leave her son.

She has work to do tonight: a date with a demon, a city to keep safe.

But her most important mission is coming back to him.