“That was an accident!” George said, his eyes fixed but popping out of their sockets.
“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you unless you force me to.”
George relaxed when Stephen turned away and dropped the man from his trance. Herman sat back in her chair, and he realized he’d had them both ramped up. He reached out and squeezed her hand briefly.
Stephen turned his attention back to George. “What am I going to do with you? I understand now, from what Herman told me last night, why you have this hate-on for me. And I can even understand that you might have a hard-on for me …”
The older man sat up straight and slapped the table, but his exclamation of rebuke fell short; his mouth opened, his jaw worked, but his voice refused to cooperate.
Stephen snorted out a laugh. “Can’t deny it, can you?”
“Of course I can!”
Stephen shook his head. “It’s okay, George. Considering where your magic comes from, it makes perfect sense. It does go a long way to explain why you’re so angry with the world. It’s not your fault you were born the wrong gender. You have the blood of a succubus running through your veins.”
“You told him that?” George snapped at his daughter.
Stephen put his hand out across the table between them. “She did because she loves me, and because of what she knows about my own bloodlines.”
George narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Diluted through centuries as my blood is, I am a cambion, descendant of an incubus.”
“Well, fuck me.” George slumped in his chair. “What is that going to mean for her baby?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I do know it’s a girl, so the incubus in her blood will be dormant. But the combination of the two—she may be more powerful than you and I put together.”
“If she turns out to be as slutty as her father—”
He didn’t have a chance to finish the thought: Herman slapped his face. Shocked, George stood, but before he could backhand her, movement from Stephen’s direction made him think better of the idea. He lowered himself slowly back into his chair.
“I’m sorry.” He put his elbows on the table and rubbed his face with his hands. “You’ve got me all figured out, have you, Dagmar? That doesn’t change the fact that I want Herman away from you.”
“And that brings us to our stalemate. What are you prepared to do about it? Because I’m not backing down. I’m with Herman. Period.”
George glared at him, unable—or unwilling—to speak. Stephen continued. “You can either make yourself scarce and do your best to forget about us, or we can work together. I know you’re as concerned about Herman’s safety as I am. It’s a lifelong occupation for me. And understand, speaking from the perspective of the incubus in me, I will protect my young with my life.” I’ll probably kill for them too, he thought.
“Okay, Herman is safe while she’s carrying your demon offspring. What about after?”
“I will still protect Herman after she has given birth to our daughter, just as I will protect the mother of my other child. Just as I will protect any woman. Women, in general, are my reason for being.” Herman frowned in his periphery. “But Herman in particular, because she is my mate.
“So what do you say, George? Are you in or are you out?”
“How do you propose we work together?”
Stephen straightened. There would be no negotiation. “First of all, I’m going to need to know I can trust you. I want your word that you won’t touch a drop of booze while you’re within one hundred kilometers of either of us.”
“That’s a lot to ask …”
“Take it or leave it.”
He snorted. “Okay, what else?”
“Second, you have to promise not to take matters into your own hands in regards to Herman’s safety, as long as I am with her and capable of taking care of her.” He paused to let it sink in. “If you are able to give me your word on these things, I will agree to take you with us wherever you wish to go.”
“You know I still need to go back to Paul.”
“That’s up to you. But Herman is staying with me. I’m not going to let her out of my sight again. Not while she’s pregnant.”
“I’ll need to know your schedule up until your tour is finished,” George said.
“I’ll have Margaret get it to you.”
“Fine, I’ll talk to Paul and I’ll let you know.” George stood to leave, but Stephen stopped him on his way out the door.
“Don’t forget, I need your word. And if you go back on either condition, you know where you’ll end up.” George stiffened as he turned to go.
CHAPTER 37
Dawn was beginning to break on Christmas morning when Herman opened her eyes. It took her a few moments to realize it was Chad’s insistent knocking at their bedroom door that had rescued her from her dream of Christmases past. She rolled over to look at the clock on Stephen’s side of the bed and found him wide awake, smiling.
“I guess this is what it’s going to be like having kids.”
“I think so,” she agreed, thinking life should be like this always.
Chad finally gave up knocking and opened the door a crack.
“Herman?” he whispered through the slit between door and frame.
“Come in,” she said, reluctantly tearing her gaze from Stephen’s face as she sat up.
Chad burst through the door and jumped on the bed, straight into her arms in an unusual display of sibling affection. He mumbled, “Merry Christmas,” into her shoulder.
“Merry Christmas, Squirt.”
Life with Stephen shone in bright contrast to the last nine desolate Christmas mornings, with few presents, fewer decorations, a sleeping mother, and a drunk father staggering around the kitchen trying to make breakfast.
“Merry Christmas, Stephen,” Chad said over Herman’s shoulder.
Stephen wished him the same with a smile in his voice. She felt a lump in her chest as though her heart grew an extra size. A vision of her favorite Dr. Seuss character flashed through her mind, and she laughed to herself.
Christmas Eve had been enchanting, with a gently popping fire and candles on every surface. Cuddled up under an afghan, they’d watched It’s a Wonderful Life and sipped eggnog. At midnight, they said goodnight to her dad and Aunt Beryl. They went hand in hand to bed and there they made love, their sighs muffled beneath a heavy down comforter. They whispered of love and of hope and of the future as a family, and to Herman it all felt far too good to be true. How vital it was to treasure these moments, because who knew how long they could last? She closed her eyes and prayed they would grow old together, as happy as they had been yesterday.
“Come and see all the presents,” Chad said, sitting back.
“We’ll be out in a minute.” She smiled at her little brother. He closed the door behind him and she lay back down, wrapping her arms around Stephen’s neck when he leaned over for a kiss.
“Do we have time to make love before he shows up again?” He pressed his erection into the soft flesh of her hip for emphasis.
“I doubt it,” Herman sighed.
“A shower together?”
As she opened her mouth to say that might be a possibility, her father knocked on the door, calling, “Breakfast!”
She frowned. “Maybe after we eat.”
“It’s a date,” he whispered and bent for another, more lingering kiss. A minute later Chad knocked again.
“Let’s go,” Herman said. She shivered into her robe, slipped into her slippers, and shuffled out to the living room with a berobed Stephen close behind her. More presents spilled out from under the tree than when she had gone to bed; most had been placed there by the four adults after Chad had reluctantly turned in. She dragged her brother into the kitchen and was surprised to find that her dad had prepared all the food. Aunt Beryl was setting the table for pancakes and bacon, and as a centerpiece, her
father’s specialty from her childhood—a beautiful fresh fruit salad with a melon carved into the shape of a swan on top. Since swearing off alcohol, George had reverted back to the dad she remembered. He had allowed Stephen to hypnotize him, to help with his cravings. Herman couldn’t remember seeing Chad as happy as he had been for the past week. She thought of her mother, sitting in a nursing home in Ottawa, and wondered if she even realized it was Christmas.
* * *
“Open your present.” Stephen smiled at Herman with anticipation shining in his eyes. After half an hour of sitting around the tree watching Chad rip into his gifts, her brother had finally begun to search for everyone else’s presents. Stephen had pointed out one that he wanted Herman to open right away.
The gift Chad handed her was a long, thin blue box. She pulled on its silver bow, untied the ribbon, and lifted the lid. She was surprised to see it was full of front-row tickets to Stephen’s show: the next day.
“You’re giving me the gift of having to work on Boxing Day?” she asked, looking at him from beneath raised eyebrows.
“There are names on all the tickets. Have a look.”
The first one did, indeed, have Margaret’s name printed in cursive on one end. The next said “Mark.”
“I didn’t think they were coming for another five days. This must be why you’ve been disappearing into the next room all week to talk on the phone in private,” she concluded. She hadn’t exactly been jealous, but she had been preoccupied with his recent secrecy.
“They’ll arrive tomorrow, just before the show,” Stephen said. “Keep going.”
The next tickets were for Aunt Beryl, her dad, and Chad, and there was one more. When she saw the name on the ticket, she stifled a sob.
“Mama?”
“She’ll be here in a few hours.”
“Oh, Stephen!” She threw her arms around him and lifted herself onto his lap, squeezing him with happiness.
“Mom’s coming?” Chad screeched. She felt Stephen nod, and then she was being pounced upon from the side by her brother.
“Whoo hoo!” he screamed in her ear.
“Go see Dad,” Herman told him.
She released her grip on Stephen. “Will she be okay, do you think?”
“She managed to keep the secret from you when you talked to her. I thought that was a good sign. And her doctor gave the all-clear for her to come for a week. She’s traveling with three nurses. They’ll take turns staying with her around the clock.”
Herman turned to her father. “Did you know she was coming, Dad?”
“News to me,” he said with a smile. “It’ll be nice to see her outside of the home.”
“It’s going to be wonderful to see her again,” Aunt Beryl said. “Stephen has been planning this all week.”
“Thank you,” Herman said, turning back to him.
“You’re welcome.” He pulled her to his chest. “We have to leave for the airport in an hour, so if you want to have a shower before we go …”
“But we haven’t finished opening the presents,” Chad piped up.
Herman turned to him. “You’ve opened all yours, the rest can wait. Oh,” she said to Stephen. “I didn’t buy my mom anything.”
“I did.”
“You thought of everything.” Herman kissed his cheek, stubbled and fragrant with the scent of last night’s intimacy. “We’re going to have a shower,” she announced, getting off his lap.
Chad lifted one side of his upper lip in disgust. “Together?”
“Saves time,” Stephen said. “And water.”
As she followed Stephen out of the room, Herman glanced over her shoulder at her father, half-expecting a comment. He sat in the armchair, staring out the window in a world of his own.
CHAPTER 38
Time was not saved, Stephen mused as they rode to the airport in a limo. Their shower together had, however, given him the opportunity to look at Herman’s changing body, literally as well as figuratively, in a new light. It had been a while since they had made love in daylight. Despite Stephen’s protests to the contrary, Herman felt that she was losing her shape. It was true that she had become softer; the morning sickness that kept her from moving around the way she used to was more the norm than the exception, and sometimes it lasted all day. But the softness he felt during their nocturnal couplings excited him, caused his blood to rise, and fueled his desire to keep her constantly by his side when he couldn’t be inside her, which was where he always wanted to be. He wasn’t sure if it was merely the celebration of Christmas that made her consent to a shower with him, but he had been both surprised and delighted when she not only agreed, she did so with enthusiasm.
She had followed him into the bathroom and shut the door behind them. He started the shower and turned to see her already naked, holding her breath, waiting for his criticism. She held out her arms, uncertainty painting her face a rosy pink.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he whispered, choked with emotion.
“You really think so?”
He nodded, mesmerized. “This is what everything in my life up to this point has led to. Creating a child with you is what I was created to do. And now, seeing you like this …” He swallowed and squinted back his tears of joy. The sight of her, swollen with his child, had threatened to overwhelm him.
She’d smiled at him, then, and he fell to his knees. Surprised, she took a step back, flattening herself against the door. He refrained from reaching out to her. “You, and all you contain, are my life, Herman. Don’t ever doubt it.”
She took his head in her hands. “I won’t,” she said.
He had risen, picked her up, and gently placed her in the shower. Shedding his robe, he got in with her. He watched as she stood under the stream of steaming water cascading down, plastering her darkened hair against her head, and dripping off her nose and her nipples. He knelt once more, this time to wash her. Reverently he soaped her from her feet, which she held up for him one at a time, up her legs to her buttocks. He turned her to wash her back, up to her shoulders and then he stood, her back still to him, and washed the front of her, gently massaging her breasts with slippery wet hands. He pressed his erection against her back, and she moaned with desire. As he moved his hands down to her belly, his own desire became more urgent. The evidence of his seed growing there in her womb increased the rate of his heart until he thought he might burst with rapture. He slid his right hand down to her sex and at the same time lifted her leg so that her foot rested on the edge of the tub. He slipped himself into her slowly, celebrating with each inch of himself the wonder of the act of their joining. He held her, his forearm between her breasts, his hand at her shoulder. With the other he shifted her hair from the back of her neck to kiss her there, and to whisper of his love while he thrust into her, almost lifting her off her toes as he did. He magically made her weightless, and with the strength of his passion, with the power that flowed around him and around her, he brought them both to orgasm. Enclosed in the heat of the watery sanctuary, Stephen fully realized the breadth of what he had done with this same act: transformed his lover into the bearer of his offspring.
For a few minutes afterward, it seemed that Herman wouldn’t make the trip with him to pick up her mother. Before he had even had a chance to wash her clean of his seed, she had scrambled out of the bathtub to throw up, unceremoniously, in the toilet. Both of them soapy and naked, he stood behind her and held her hair while she retched and apologized. He had told her it was okay; by the time she felt well enough for them to return to the shower to get rinsed off, they were doubled up in fits of laughter.
Smiling to himself at the memory, he peered out the car window at an approaching jet as they neared the airport. He squeezed Herman gently to his chest where she had drifted off to sleep, in order to avoid motion sickness. She had been determined to come with him, barf bag in hand.
“We’re almost there,” he whispered.
/> Chad had wanted to come too, but Stephen was afraid the excitement might already be too much for Doreen. He had cautioned Herman to remain calm.
“Are we going to be late, do you think?” she mumbled.
“It’s going to be close, but I think we’ll be okay. How are you feeling?”
“Much better at the moment. I hope I don’t give away that I’m pregnant the second I see her by throwing up. But she hasn’t really paid that much attention to me for the past few years. She might not notice, as long as I don’t vomit in her lap.”
“According to her doctor, she’s been much more lucid in her lucid moments lately, probably due to the consistency of her medications. You might be surprised.”
“I hope so.” Her voice was muffled by his jacket. “But this smell is making me sick.”
The bright sun had given way to the shade of the covered pick-up zone for arriving passengers, and with the canopy came the pungent odor of exhaust and lingering diesel fumes. Stephen picked up the phone to speak to the driver.
“Please drop us off here; we’ll walk the rest of the way.” Immediately the car came to a halt beside the curb. Stephen got out and held out a hand for Herman before the driver could get around the car. They hurried into the terminal.
Doreen’s flight landed moments after they reached the gate. They didn’t have to wait long before she came out in a wheelchair, escorted by three young women who reminded Stephen of more petite versions of the three good fairies from Sleeping Beauty. A porter followed behind them with Doreen’s suitcase.
Doreen recognized Stephen first.
“Mr. Dagmar! You came to get me yourself. How is Skye doing?”
“She’s well, thank you,” he said, smiling.
“Who’s …” Herman started to ask, but she was cut short by her mother’s gasp.
“Herman!” she exclaimed.
“Merry Christmas, Mama,” Herman said, moving to hug her.
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