Bearing Armen - Book Three

by Brenna Lyons

  “It was nothing.” It was. Most Warriors carried much more than that for emergencies. In truth, James had been lax by carrying so little pocket money. “Which way? Or should I drive you?”

  She blushed. “No. It’s close, but you don’t have to—”

  “I do.” Step one. “There are dangerous beings about.”

  Beth scooped her shoulder-length hair behind her ear, motioning him east and falling into step beside him. “I’ll pay you back,” she stated proudly. “In two weeks—”

  “There’s no need to. It was my fault you were late.”

  “It was the vampire’s fault...and my own. I was already late.” She grimaced, as if admitting that was painful for her.

  “You don’t owe me anything.” James rolled the stroller around a heave in the concrete.

  “I don’t need your charity,” she snapped.

  “It’s not charity. It’s a gift.”

  She shot him a wary look. “You don’t even know me. Why would you give me a gift?”

  “I didn’t. I gave your daughters a gift.”

  Beth looked away, seemingly rattled by the concept.

  James ached to take her hand and comfort her, but he had no doubts that she wouldn’t allow that. It simply wasn’t fair. The type of woman he wanted most was least likely to accept him in her life. Why couldn’t he just be happy with the typical blade chasers?

  He turned to a door as she did, subconsciously matching her movements. Beth unlocked it, and James removed the baby from the front seat, anticipating her dismissal at the door.

  She turned back, looking at the stroller and then James, her expression pained. “I can get them—”

  “I need to talk to you.” He tried to state it calmly, but it came out as a plea.

  She hesitated, glancing at the door nervously.

  “Please. Have I done anything to prove myself untrustworthy?”

  Beth looked as if she might say that he had. She sighed, shaking her head.

  “It will only take a few minutes. You have my vow.”

  She lifted the other child and pushed the door wide. “Park the stroller beneath the mail slots,” she instructed, heading for the stairs without a backward glance.

  The baby in his arms yawned widely and snuggled into his shoulder, and James bit back a laugh. Even if Beth refused his bid for a relationship, this moment was priceless to him.

  He followed her up the stairs and into a cramped apartment. Beth breezed through the front room and into the kitchen, removing the baby’s coat and bonnet and setting her in a playpen. She turned on a pot of water already set on the stove. She peeled off her own coat, revealing a trim body, maybe a touch on the thin side but still nicely rounded.

  James took her hint, removing the coat and bonnet from his little charge. He glanced into the refrigerator as Beth opened it, then away to the baby in his arms, his heart aching as she stuffed her thumb in her mouth. There was little in the fridge, and what there was inside seemed to be primarily for the babies. He smoothed his hand in circles over her back and promised his protection silently.

  “What did you need to talk to me about?” Beth asked, setting two glass bottles in the pot to heat.

  His head spun. James had to make his continued presence a sensible move. “I want to offer you protection.” He didn’t stop to consider how he’d justify that to Carrick.

  She went still, staring at the stovetop. “What does that mean?”

  “You know what’s out there, Beth. You know about the beasts.”

  Beth turned, looking at her girls in horror. “They’ll come back?”

  James cursed his inability to lie to her. As much as he’d like to lie to gain the advantage, it would be dishonorable, and he wouldn’t do it. “Probably not, but anything is possible.” After all, Veriel had fixated on Corwyn’s mate. The thought of a beast doing the same with Beth made his stomach clench. “What I want to do is a simple thing—just an amulet and a blessing that keeps them from harming you.”

  She fingered the silver cross at her throat.

  “As you saw tonight, it doesn’t work. What I offer does.” He paused, gauging the effects of his words on her. “For your girls. I offer them protection as well. If something happened to you—”

  “Yes.” Her voice was a strained whisper.

  He sighed, relieved that she’d accepted his offer.

  Beth stepped toward him, watching James pull the amulet from his jacket pocket. He settled it over her shoulders and cupped his hand behind her head, whispering the words of protection. He didn’t hesitate, pressing his lips to her forehead, then releasing her immediately.

  She stared at him, touching the spot he’d kissed, moving her mouth as if she couldn’t decide what to ask first.

  “It’s required,” he assured her.

  Beth cleared her throat. “And this will work?”

  “Guaranteed, as long as you keep the amulet next to your body.”

  “But the girls—”

  “We typically pin them to the inside of a child’s clothing until the age of four. Do you have spare diaper pins?”

  “Yes. Of course.” She retrieved two from a Life Savers stacked bowl set on the counter, offering them to him.

  James accepted them, then stared at the sleepy baby in his arms. “I need to know your name, princess,” he hinted.

  Beth darkened. “You’re holding Michelle. Melissa is in the playpen.”

  “Michelle. What a beautiful name for a princess.”

  Chapter Two

  Friday, December 1, 1978

  “What’s troubling you, James?”

  He ground his teeth at the sound of Carrick’s voice, acknowledging that his moment of truth had come—literally.

  “Oh, no. When one of you won’t answer me, I know it’s bad news.” His grandfather settled on the couch across from James. “What is it? Did you lose a sacred weapon? Or break one? If you did, you’re forging the new one. You know that’s the house rule. Did you lose an amulet?”

  “I—offered protection to...someone last night.”

  The old lord’s bushy white brow rose in a way he hadn’t seen since Kord Maher had delivered himself for judgment after spending the night with the Lord Farmer’s daughter. “There was no feeding,” he noted.

  He shook his head, feeling his cheeks heat. “No. There was no feeding, Grandfather.”

  “Would you care to explain why you offered protection to someone who hadn’t been fed upon?” The bitter edge in Carrick’s voice spoke of punishment—or worse.

  James prayed to Ani that his grandfather wouldn’t revoke protection. He started to ask the same of Syth, then decided his house god being Stone god made Him a bad choice to ask for something so outrageous and added a second prayer to Ani. With a woman and children involved, surely She was a better choice to ask for aid. On a whim, he added a prayer to Tes. She was female and known for granting unusual wishes.

  Carrick cleared his throat, demanding an answer.

  “It was actually three amulets,” James admitted. Maybe if I’m honest, Carrick will let them keep the amulets. Please, Ani—

  “Three? You committed three amulets to persons who are not marked without my permission to do so?”

  He nodded miserably.

  “This tale had best amuse me, James.”

  He sighed. “It’s a widow with two babies. She was attacked, and I couldn’t... I can’t bear to think of them unprotected.”

  Carrick stared at him, a look of calculation on his face. “Do you intend to take this woman as your mate? Do you have interest in it?”

  “If she’ll have me. I—I don’t understand this feeling, Grandfather,” he admitted. “I just met her, and I already ache to touch her, to soothe her, to—”

  He laughed long and hard, wiping moisture from his eyes. “The right one is often like that. Just ask Kord about what the right one will do to a man.” Carrick sobered. “Have you considered the difficulties of bringing human boys into a Warrior h
ousehold? It might not be wise.”

  James chuckled in spite of the seriousness of the situation. If Carrick refused him... No. He wouldn’t think about that. “They’re girls. Twin girls, ten months old, the most beautiful I have ever seen, much like their mother.”

  The old man looked at him in shocked silence, no doubt remembering his sister and niece.

  “Michelle and Melissa,” James sighed, touching the shoulder Michelle had cuddled to, a smile curving his lips.

  “A true treasure,” Carrick croaked. “Never forget what a treasure they are.”

  * * * *

  “Oh, Beth!” Mrs. McKee called out.

  She turned, pulling the check from her pocket and offering it to her landlord.

  “I can always count on you.”

  Beth managed a smile, though she was still slightly heartsick. If it wasn’t for James Armen, she’d have either lost her child care or her apartment. She turned back to the stroller.

  “I let the delivery boy in,” Mrs. McKee continued.

  She went still, her mind working fast. “Delivery boy?” Who would send her a package?

  “With the groceries. I imagine he made it here before you. They’re quick on weekdays.”

  “Is he still here?” If he was, Beth would have Mrs. McKee call the police. Beth hadn’t ordered groceries. She’d planned to go to the store after the girls’ nap, but she never bought more than she could carry in the stroller. The two-dollar fee for delivery was more than she could afford.

  “No. He left just a few minutes later.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Of course.” She sounded offended by the question.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t like to take chances, being alone with the girls...”

  “Of course, dear.”

  Beth scooped up the diaper bag and hung it over her shoulder, then hoisted a baby onto each hip. She looked up the flight of stairs, already weary though she hadn’t climbed a single one. The walk seemed to get longer every time she did it.

  By the time she’d reached the top, her legs and lungs ached and her arms shook in exhaustion. She wouldn’t be able to carry them both at once for much longer. Then what would she do?

  Just the thought of leaving one at the bottom made her ill. If the lock on the door was more reliable, she might not feel so nervous about it, but it wasn’t. More than once, she’d come to the door and found that it hadn’t latched correctly and could be pushed open.

  Shifting them both onto one hip and using the wall to support their combined weight got harder every day as well. Beth got the upper lock open and launched inside, lowering the girls to the living room rug. She shut the door, sagging against it. Lord, but she was tired.

  Melissa and Michelle didn’t share that concern. In a heartbeat, they were on hands and knees, crawling across the floor in search of trouble.

  Let them, she decided. The apartment was largely safe. What could it hurt to let them roam?

  “The groceries,” she reminded herself. Beth had to find out if she’d been burglarized.

  She laughed harshly. What was there to steal? The only thing of real value she owned was her necklace, pitiful as that was. She’d even sold her wedding band to survive a particularly hard month.

  It was better to check, she supposed. The television was on its stand and the radio was on the counter next to the fridge. The ‘valuables’ were safe.

  But, there was still shopping to do after naptime. Beth prepared herself for the bad news inside and opened the fridge, choking on her sigh.

  “My God.” Her mouth watered at the sight of the stocked shelves.

  The top shelf held three gallon jugs of milk, a half gallon of orange juice, one of apple, and one of grapefruit. The bottles of mixed milk and formula had been moved to the door to make room for the rest. There were salad greens and baby carrots in one drawer, assorted fresh fruits in another, and lunchmeat and cheeses in the last. The shelves were packed with margarine and butter...

  Beth touched it, afraid she was dreaming. “Butter.” She laughed nervously, then forced herself on, cataloguing the rest.

  There was cottage cheese, two types of jelly, condiments, eggs—two dozen, and a huge package of steaks.

  Certain that it hadn’t ended there, she closed the fridge and pulled open the lower freezer drawer. There were meats of every kind, frozen sides, and...

  “Ice cream.” She hadn’t had ice cream since just before the girls were born.

  Beth shut the freezer, mindful of the electricity she was wasting with it standing open. She stared at her pantry cabinet, barely breathing. Her hand shook, but she eased it open, catching a bag of chocolate chips as they slid out.

  “Baking supplies, canned fruit and vegetables, cereal and oatmeal, cookies and crackers, rice, spaghetti, sauce, macaroni and cheese, chips, wine...” Her head spun, and she could only see the front row. She set the chocolate chips inside and closed it, staring at the handle for a long moment.

  Who would do this? Who could afford it? A wild guess that Ethan’s parents wanted to mend bridges lit in her mind, then disappeared amid a flurry of images of the tense months after Ethan died...and earlier, when they’d been engaged and newly married. No. They’d never have done this.

  But, who did that leave her with? She had no one who would spend this kind of money on her, even if they had it to spend, and no one Beth associated with on a daily basis had this kind of money to spend.

  A high-pitched squeal sent Beth in search of the girls. She found them beside the coffee table.

  Melissa patted a stuffed bear that was nearly her seated height, a white bear with a pink bonnet that she’d already pulled to the back of the bear’s neck. Michelle had hers hugged to her body, peeking around the beige furred face topped by a pink peaked hat with a matching veil, the type typically seen on damsels in distress...or fairy tale princesses.

  “Princess?” A memory pulled at Beth.

  Michelle. What a beautiful name for a princess.

  “He wouldn’t dare!” But, she knew James would dare it. The man obviously had no concept of frugal spending. The money he’d handed Alice as a ‘bonus’ would pay Beth’s bill for a month or more, if—as she suspected—most of the bills were the size of the ten on top.

  “At least you two chose the right bears,” she muttered.

  This was insane. Why would he...

  Beth pushed away the thought that James expected a sexual repayment. That didn’t sound right. He’d kept his distance the night before. Aside from the kiss on her forehead, which he claimed was necessary to ‘seal the amulet,’ he hadn’t laid a hand on Beth, hadn’t hinted that he wanted a reward for saving her, hadn’t come on to her in any way.

  And...she trusted him. Beth couldn’t say why she did, but there was something about him that made her trust him with her daughters, herself, her home...

  Then he’s doing this, because he feels sorry for us.

  Her initial gut response of anger faltered at the memory of all the food at stake. Without conscious plan, the mental math of how long this food would last played out in her mind; speculations about the uses the extra money in her budget could be put to for the duration followed.

  Beth bit her lip, torn.

  James had money to burn and wanted to burn it for her benefit...hers and her children’s. What did it matter if he did? He could spare it, and he would tire of them and move on soon enough.

  No. She didn’t need to examine the reasons it was wrong. It was.

  As it was, the state provided her with food stamps and medical coverage for the girls, but that wasn’t charity; it wasn’t a free ride. Beth paid taxes into the system that helped support them. She looked forward to the day when they wouldn’t need the subsidies. When the girls are old enough to spend the after school hours alone, she reminded herself.

  Still, Beth cringed at the idea of them alone...ever. There was no question that the day would come, but she couldn’t deny that she wished it wouldn’t.
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  She stared at them, managing a tight smile. Michelle was laying on her bear, seemingly intent on an early nap on her new pillow. Melissa chewed on the bear’s bonnet, teething avidly now that she had something other than her fist to do it on.

  “I can’t accept it,” Beth decided, her voice betraying her misery at the idea, though she knew it was right. The bears were one thing, but the food was too much.

  There were two listings for Armen in the phone book, neither one for James Armen. Beth sighed, took a deep breath and called the first number.

  A groggy-sounding man answered on the second ring. “Connor here,” he half-yawned.

  “Sorry,” Beth managed. “I was looking for James.” She wound the phone cord around her fingers, hoping he knew James.

  Connor snapped awake. “Is it an emergency?”

  “No. I—I’m sorry I bothered you.” She started to hang up the phone.

  “Wait!”

  Beth gasped at the bark of an order, but she found herself obeying, bringing the phone back to her ear.

  “That’s better. I’ll have James contact you, but I need your name to do that.”

  “It’s Beth...Beth Havens.”

  “Protected or...” He trailed off, hinting at a more intimate relationship.

  “Protected,” she assured him, her face burning.

  “If you’re a protected, I can—”

  “This was a mistake,” she breathed. “I’m sorry I bothered you.” Beth hung up, ignoring Connor’s demand for her not to.

  She stared at the phone, considering her options. He’d said James would call. Beth decided to wait until nightfall, then try the other number.

  * * * *

  James grumbled a curse, reaching for the phone at his bedside and fumbling it to his ear. “Yeah?”

  “Oh, good. I’m waking you,” Connor growled.

  He squinted at the bright light sifting around the heavy drapes. “Damn right you are. Who pissed in your Cheerios?”

  “One of your protected by the name of Beth Havens.”

  From the first thud of his hammering heart, James was wide awake. “And?”