“Everything.”
He smoothed his other hand through her hair. “It’s going to be fine.”
She pouted. “How do you know?”
“Faith,” he retorted. “And the fact I know you.”
She squirmed against him. “Oh, you know me now?”
“We haven’t had a great deal of time together,” he replied with a chuckle, “but I know who you are. That’s more important right now than knowing what your favorite movie is. Or your favorite color. Or if you’re a salty or sweet person.”
“Salty or sweet?”
“Sweet,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Definitely sweet. Do you remember the million pounds of chocolate you requested that time?”
“Do I ever. The look on your face when I said I needed tampons was hilarious. I’ll never forget the blind panic.”
“I tried to send Tristan…” he began but fell silent at the mention of the knight’s name.
“He’ll come back,” she murmured, knowing the old vampire had come to mean more to Nye than he’d ever likely admit. “When he’s ready.”
He grunted and held her tighter.
Letting out a yawn, Isobel clutched his shirt. “You’re a big softy at heart, you know that?”
“I think you’re delirious,” he quipped, easing her back down onto the bed.
“I think you’re avoiding the truth.”
He smiled. “Nope.”
“You want the world to see you as a tough guy, but I know better. The moment this little girl comes into the world, you’re going to melt like butter.”
Nye shook his head in amusement and kissed her swiftly on the lips.
“Sleep,” he said. “We need you well rested, love.”
“We?”
“Me and her.” He nodded at her stomach.
“See, I told you,” she said as her eyes drooped. “You’re a big softy.”
The next day dawned bright, and finally, Isobel woke with a calm mind.
Nye was nowhere to be seen, but she didn’t expect him to fawn over her twenty-four seven. He was probably off someplace working out a plan to kill Eleanor once and for all. Or at least she hoped he was.
Rubbing her hands over her belly, she stilled as she saw how fat she’d grown overnight. She kind of expected it, but her heart began to beat double time as her hands probed the hard bulge that used to be a very flat and trim waistline, gained by years of substandard meals while buried under a mound of books in the Oxford University library.
Sliding awkwardly out of bed, Isobel dragged her bloated body into the bathroom. Staring at herself in the mirror, her mouth fell open in panic. She looked a lot bigger than she felt. Turning to the side, she inspected her profile, and her throat tightened in alarm.
She was growing faster than she should, so why did she feel fine? Besides the odd bout of morning sickness, she hadn’t experienced any discomfort. Well, only when she looked down.
Peering into her eyes, she poked at the lack of dark circles under her eyes and didn’t know what to do. Shouldn’t there be something she ought to be doing? Didn’t pregnant woman take birthing classes, down special vitamins, and eat weird things? Shouldn’t she have heartburn and want to pee all the time? Something other than blowing up like a balloon should be happening.
Beginning to panic, she threw on a dressing gown and cursed when it wasn’t even big enough to cover her stomach. Leaving it open, she made do with one of Nye’s T-shirts underneath, which was stretched taught, and her usual pajama bottoms that she could only pull up half as far as usual. If she twisted the wrong way, it would be a comedy of errors.
She found Gabby in the study.
“Gabby,” she said as she waddled into the study. “I expanded again.”
The witch glanced up from her grimoire and the spell she was conjuring on the surface of the desk. She took one look at Isobel’s stomach, and her eyes widened.
“I’ll say,” she said, her spell forgotten. “Are you feeling okay?”
“That’s the thing. Other than a bit of puking, I’m fine. That’s not natural, right? Two days in and I’m like four months pregnant. Not that I know what it’s meant to look like. All I know is I’m probably going to pop in a couple of days. Days, Gabby! This shit is meant to take months, and now I’ve got hours to prepare myself for being a mother to a magical baby none of us knows a thing about.”
“Izzy, you need to calm down.”
“I can’t calm down! I’m going to squeeze a baby out of my vagina. A week ago, my biggest problem was worrying why Nye didn’t want to kiss me and now… Well, he kissed me all right!”
“Sit down before you fall over,” the witch said, practically dragging her to one of the armchairs by the fireplace.
Sinking down onto the leather, Isobel sighed loudly. “What’s happening to me, Gabby?”
“The curse must have altered your body,” she mused. “In order to withstand the fast growth of the baby, there must’ve been some tampering with your natural form…”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Isobel muttered, wiping her palm across her forehead.
“Eleanor was meant to bear the child herself,” Gabby went on. “She must’ve planned this spell in meticulous detail. Changing one thing would cause it to unravel, and she would have to redo everything.”
“Then she used the same one on me, delivered by the curse. She would’ve had to be alive afterward to help the child grow into her powers, right? Then that means I’ll get through this. Right?”
Gabby didn’t look as excited as she felt, and her hopes began to fade.
“The only person who knows for sure is Eleanor,” she said. “And she’s not fond of talking.”
“Only taking,” Isobel whispered. “She’ll come soon, right?”
Gabby nodded, her gaze falling to Isobel’s enlarged stomach, which began to squirm, followed by a sharp pain on her left side.
“Ow!” Isobel said, wincing. Her hands flew to her stomach, and the squirming came again, but this time, a little softer.
“What is it?” Gabby asked, kneeling before her.
Isobel’s eyes widened, and her fear subsided, replaced by wonder as she realized her little girl was waking up. “I think she’s kicking.”
The witch placed her hands on Isobel’s stomach and smiled as the little girl sank her foot in again.
“Bloody hell!” Gabby exclaimed. “She’s got a bit of strength in her.”
“It’s going to be okay,” Isobel whispered, more to the baby than to herself. “Everything is going to be okay. I know it.”
Gabby stood beside the olive tree in the garden, watching the sunrise through the branches.
Regulus’s remains were buried under its roots, the tree she’d grown herself the night they’d laid her lover to rest. Sometimes, she imagined she could feel his presence if she concentrated her earth sense hard enough, but she knew she wasn’t really feeling anything. Her imagination was strong in those moments, tricking even her. Even with all her power and abilities, she couldn’t talk to all of the dead. Katrin had told her as much when she’d spoken to the founding witch on the other side. He’d gone someplace even she couldn’t reach.
If there was any time she needed his council, it was now.
The baby had grown at a pace none of them had anticipated. Isobel’s stomach had doubled in size each day, her body hardly keeping up with the accelerated pregnancy. Would her friend survive the birth?
A shuffling sound alerted her to a presence, and she glanced over her shoulder. Reed stood behind her, his hands jammed into the pockets of his leather jacket.
Gabby narrowed her eyes and turned her attention back to the olive tree, but he didn’t take the hint. He stood beside her and watched the sunrise, annoying with all his young vampire hotness.
Finally, Reed glanced at her. “You good?”
“Of course, I am,” she retorted.
“Hey, just asking,” he said, holding up his hands in mock defense. “Everyo
ne’s fussing over Isobel. Understandably, since she’s full up with the baby plague, but no one’s asked you if you’re dealing.” Gabby eyed him with suspicion, but he went on, oblivious to her concern. “You’re the one who’s going to swoop in and save the day. Magic always trumps all, or so they say. That’s gotta be heavy.”
“You’re cocky,” she said, turning to face him. “Lurking around the manor, eavesdropping on conversations you’re not privy to. You know more than you’re supposed to.” She allowed her power to hum, the air charging around her. “Don’t you think it’s time you explain yourself before I jump to conclusions?”
“What kind of conclusions might they be?”
“That you’re in league with Eleanor. Perhaps not willingly, but you never know.”
Reed snorted and shook his head.
“Or there’s the fact that Tristan’s gone missing. I believe he left of his own accord, but that doesn’t mean you never found him. Are we going to find him strung up somewhere with a rune carved onto his desiccated body? Or should we set another place at the table when he rolls up all zombified?”
“You have one hell of an imagination,” Reed said with a laugh. “I can see why you’re so jumpy. It’s admirable.”
“Admirable?”
“Yeah, the way you protect your friends despite your differences.” He glanced at the sky, which was streaked with brilliant shades of red and orange. “It would be nice to be part of something like that. I’ve spent a lot of time…wandering.”
Gabby watched him closely, her magic flowing around the humanoid and into the earth of its own accord. She didn’t have to listen to the emotions feeding back to her to understand she was wrong. Reed wasn’t their enemy. He just wanted to be a part of something.
“I wouldn’t mind being a part of this place. London. I’ve been watching and listening, not because I want to do you harm but in case I was needed. I have all time in the world. Too much, in fact.”
“Is that the only reason?” she asked, sensing he was holding back.
He grunted.
“You seem to know everything while I know nothing. Nye trusts you on reputation alone, but that’s not enough. Not anymore.”
“No matter what I do, no matter how hard I fight, I’m still on the outside,” he said, his scowl deepening. “How many more times do I need to pledge my allegiance?”
“Don’t you think it’s time you give me the whole story?” she asked, thoroughly annoyed at his constant evasion. He was angry? Well, so was she.
He ground his teeth together, his jaw tightening, and he turned away from her.
“Reed,” she snapped.
“I never met my father,” he said after a moment. “I was still in my mother’s belly when he went off to war. He never came back. I don’t even know if he knew I existed. Not for a long time.” He sighed, his shoulders rising and falling. “I grew up with my mother and my older sister, knowing my father had gone off to fight in a pointless war. It was truly shit knowing that, but it was what it was. Nothing I could do would change the fact he was gone.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabby murmured, beginning to feel rotten she’d threatened the vampire.
“What they say about vampires is true,” he went on. “The most defining moments of your human life follow you to the grave.”
She didn’t have to ask him to know one of his moments was his father’s death.
“For a very long time, I thought he was dead,” Reed went on. “It wasn’t until I became a vampire that I learned he still lived.”
“He was alive?”
“Is,” he replied, turning to face her.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “He’s…”
“Reed isn’t my real name,” he said, looking worried.
“Then what is it?” Gabby’s hackles rose, hoping this wasn’t going to be bad. The last thing she needed was another conspiracy that could tear them apart. One was more than enough.
Reed cast his gaze away and swallowed hard. “Aedan na Tri Tor.”
Gabby’s heart skipped about a thousand beats. “You’re…”
“Tristan’s son.”
“But that would mean…”
“I’m nearing my nine-hundred-and-eighty-something birthday. Give or take a few years. It’s hard to keep up.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. “Try sticking that many candles in a cake.”
Gabby stepped forward, no longer suspicious of the vampire’s intentions. Placing her hand on his arm, she drew his gaze back to hers. “Why didn’t you say anything? All this time, you’ve been working by his side in the Six…”
“I was afraid, I suppose. He never knew me.” He shrugged. “After a billion years, you’d think I’d have a handle on that shit.”
Feeling his anguish, she attempted to soothe him with her power, but he shook her away.
“Now he’s gone, and he’s not coming back,” he went on. “It took me a thousand years to find him…it can’t take me a thousand more.”
“Stand with us,” Gabby said, taking his hands. “Stand with us, Reed. Tristan’s coming back. I know it.”
“Your words are stronger than your conviction,” he said wryly.
“Reed, please.”
He stared at her for a long time, his gaze studying her features in minute detail. Just as things were beginning to get awkward, he smiled.
“Where else would I go?”
Chapter 12
Nye stood on the balcony overlooking the garden and scowled at Gabby.
She’d taken to sitting underneath Regulus’s olive tree night and day for unknown reasons, and that was where he found her, yet again. She sat cross-legged and still as a statue, her mind someplace else. The sun was setting, and the garden was alive with every shade of red and orange his vampire eyes could discern. It was a pretty scene, and Isobel would enjoy taking it in if she were here with him, but he had no heart for it.
Five days had passed since he’d escaped the Triskele with Isobel, and the baby’s growth hadn’t slowed. Of all the messed up things he’d been through, this had to be the worst. He was undead, the leader of the London vampires, and nowhere near father material. How was he meant to raise a child among all the day-to-day carnage that was his life?
He was taking things far worse than Isobel, and she was the one who was pregnant. She’d just picked herself up and gotten on with it, knowing she couldn’t change her fate. She had to, so she did. There was no other recourse, but for Nye…he struggled with it more than he wanted to admit.
Babies did nothing but sleep, eat, and cry, not to mention shit like it was going out of fashion. What did he know about children? Nothing at all. If anyone knew how to change a nappy, it was Tristan na Tri Tor, but he’d run while the going was good. Could he run right along with him? No. It was impossible. He was bound to Isobel with or without a child in tow.
Narrowing his eyes at Gabby, he wondered if she was running in her own way. Creating other worlds in her mind in an attempt to switch off because she didn’t know what to do about Eleanor, either.
The wraith would come for the baby, plucking the infant from her mother’s arms the moment she was born. It was cruel and callous, but to the Unhallowed, it was just a thing. The power it held would be used, and once the child had served its purpose…
No, Nye couldn’t run from this. Isobel would be devastated, and the child… Who knew what would become of it…her.
Gabby stirred and glanced over her shoulder. She scanned the yard, sensing she was being watched, and after a moment, she caught his gaze. Knowing she would seek him out if he didn’t speak to her now, he vaulted over the balustrade, hopped onto the roof, and leapt to the ground, hardly denting the grass.
“Show off,” the witch said as she got to her feet.
“What are you doing?” he asked with a scowl.
“Communing,” she retorted. “What? Did you think I was skipping out on you?”
“Yes.”
She snorted. “Unlikely. I’ve b
een trying to speak to the ancestor spirits, but they’ve been elusive these past few days.”
Nye rolled his eyes. “Why? Are they pissed a vampire procreated?”
“I’d say so,” she replied, completely serious. “But it isn’t anyone but the Unhallowed’s fault. The problem is convincing them. They see things as very black and white. You made the baby, so you’re at fault even though you were tricked. It’s very annoying, to be honest.”
“Believe me, it’s the last thing I expected. I was more worried about biting her again than all of this.”
“And do you want to?” the witch asked. “Bite her?”
“I’ll always want to,” he replied thinly. “It’s my nature, but I can control it better than I thought.”
He sighed and glanced up at the manor to where the windows of Isobel’s room looked down over where they stood. She was human with no supernatural abilities, and yet she had the most conviction of all of them. How was that possible? Isobel’s heart was stronger than even he understood.
“And the baby?” Gabby asked, drawing his attention back down to earth.
“What about it?”
“What will you do once she’s born? It won’t be long now. Maybe two or three days.”
He shrugged. Her guess was as good as his.
“You’re welcome to stay at the manor for as long as you need.”
Nye scowled for what felt like the hundredth time in the last five minutes and turned to face the witch. “What’s that supposed to mean? We don’t even know what she is. Not for sure. Shit, we don’t even know if we can fight off Eleanor. Once the baby is born, it could be the end of everything. Why plan for an uncertain future?”
Gabby shook her head and glanced at the olive tree. “Because a life without hope is no life at all.”
Nye’s shoulders tensed, but he nodded his understanding. After all the things he’d been through, he had to believe this would work out. Sheera had died in his arms only a few nights ago, and Isobel was about to give birth. He had to be strong despite his uncertainty. Isobel was unfaltering in her courage, after all.
“I’ll get them to talk to me,” Gabby went on. “We still have time.”
The Keeping Place (Book Six in the Witch Hunter Saga) Page 10