Queen of Night

by Emily Goodwin

  Would Lucifer try to use me as a bargaining chip? Turn me in in exchange for his freedom?

  “No,” I whisper as I open the fridge, pulling out my leftovers from Suzy’s Cafe. “They wouldn’t let him run free.”

  Binx jumps up on the counter, waiting for me to heat up the chicken tenders so I can share with him.

  “I do believe that he’s bitter and pissed at his siblings for locking him up,” I tell him and run my hand over his sleek fur. “Turning me in would be the opposite of spiting them, right? Unless it’s just to spite Michael.” I sigh and gently close the microwave door. “And I thought I had family issues.”

  I get my food out right before the microwave beeps, and share the remaining chicken tenders with my familiars and Scarlet.

  “Need out?” I ask my little hellhound. She goes over to the door, prancing in place. I toss my to-go box in the recycling and dash into the living room to get a blanket from the back of the couch. I wrap it around my shoulders and pad back into the kitchen to go out the back door.

  The second I open the door, bright lights turn on overhead and a terrible screeching alarm rings out in the night.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, having forgotten about the stupid security system Lucas installed. I wasn’t even aware he turned it on like this at night since I’m usually asleep if he is. In just a second, he’s down here, fangs bared.

  “I was letting Scarlet out,” I shout over the alarm. “How do you turn it off?”

  Lucas takes a hold of my wrist and pulls me back in the house, not convinced bad guys aren’t lurking in the shadows, and enters the passcode into the alarm system’s control pad. It’s the same code he uses at his house in Lincoln Park: 666.

  “Sorry,” I say once the alarm goes quiet. “I forgot.”

  “You’re all right?” Lucas shuts the door and puts both hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes. The annoyance over the stupid alarm fades away as soon as I see the worry in his eyes. Being woken up by that horrible noise would be starting enough, but to be woken up by it and then think your pregnant wife was under attack would be even worse.

  “I am. I couldn’t sleep so I came down to get something to eat and then let Scarlet out.” I put both my hands on Lucas’s chest. He’s wearing navy-blue sweatpants and nothing else, and I don’t know why I find the sweatpants-only look so damn hot on him, but I do.

  “You’re warm.”

  “From the heated blanket.” He rests his hands over mine and steps in. “You couldn’t sleep?”

  I shake my head. “My mind wouldn’t turn off.”

  He puts his lips to mine and then steps back, taking my hands. Scarlet is outside, whining at the door for me to come out with her. Lucas and I both go on the porch, and Scarlet bounds off the steps, tripping over her big paws before taking off, yipping and barking as she runs around.

  We sit on the top step. I rewrap the blanket around my shoulders and scoot closer to Lucas, who puts his arm around me.

  “What were you thinking about?” he asks.

  “Everything. I don’t like not knowing how to win a fight, and I like it even less knowing Lucifer might try to use me as a distraction too. Turning me in could offer just enough time for him to get away or something.” I take in a deep breath, calmed by the scent of the night. “I wish my mom were still alive,” I confess. “She was involved with an archangel and had a baby who wasn’t quite human. Granted, I killed her on the way out, but she could shed some light on all of this…and just tell me things are going to be okay.”

  “Things are going to be okay,” Lucas presses.

  “I want to believe you,” I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder. “I kind of feel bad saying I miss my mother or wish I could have gotten to know her.”

  “Why?”

  “Tabatha was more of a mom to me than Nancy ever was.”

  “But why do you feel bad wanting to know about your birth mother?”

  “I don’t know…it’s like I’m saying Tabatha wasn’t enough.”

  Lucas turns his head in and cocks an eyebrow. “I don’t see it that way. You have a whole other side of you that you have no idea about. It has nothing to do with how much or how little Tabatha was involved in your life. I’ve heard her say many times she considers you her daughter, and you refer to both her and Evander as your family.”

  “They are my family.” I look at the stars above the trees. “I guess now that I’m having my own kid, I want to know more about where I came from. This kid is going to be more human than me, and knowing her family history could be helpful.”

  Lucas plants a kiss on the top of my head. “You’ve only known your true heritage for a few months, and you’ve gotten more questions than answers thus far.”

  “Right. And I know I’m never going to get much from my dad’s side. It’s not like they’ll invite me to the next extended family get-together where I can show up with a bottle of wine and a bowl of store-bought potato salad I’ll try to pass off as my own recipe. But my mom’s side…” I trail off, slowly moving my head back and forth. “They could be really awful people. I can’t imagine anyone being worse than the Martins, but they could be pieces of shit I want nothing to do with. Or I could have a cousin that looks like me. Or an aunt who can tell me stories about my mother from their childhood. It’s not knowing that bugs me.”

  “Can you try to find her? You know your mother was a witch named Callista, who died on your birthday.”

  “I could ask around. Callista isn’t a common name, but at the same time—”

  “Let sleeping dogs lie,” Lucas finishes.

  “Exactly.”

  Scarlet comes trotting back, dragging a big stick with her. Lucas gets to his feet and holds out a hand for me to take. “Come back to bed, my love. You need to rest.”

  “I know.” Physically, I’m exhausted. This baby is the size of a seed and is draining my energy. I’m going to be practically comatose by the time she’s ready to be born. We go back inside, and Lucas rearms the security system, and then we go back up into bed. We snuggle together and Lucas runs his fingers up and down my arm, lulling me to sleep.

  The wind wakes me up five hours later. Lucas is awake and sitting in bed next to me with his computer on his lap.

  “Morning,” I say with a yawn.

  “Good morning.” He leans over and kisses me. “Did you sleep well? It seemed like you did.”

  “Yeah.” I stretch and move my pillow, getting comfy again. “I’d still be asleep if the wind wasn’t rattling the house.”

  “A storm is blowing in.”

  “Oh, that’ll make some good napping weather.”

  Lucas puts his computer to the side and takes me in his arms. “What do you want for breakfast?”

  “Cheerios. And maybe some bacon. Yes, definitely bacon.”

  “What are Cheerios?”

  I laugh. “Cereal. Like really basic cereal that toddlers eat. I don’t have any in the house.”

  “Monica is delivering blood today,” he says, unable to keep the grimace off his face. I know Lucas hates drinking bagged blood, but he’s unable to take what he needs from me right now. “I’ll have her bring you Cheerios too.”

  “I can go shopping myself,” I remind Lucas.

  “Yes, you can, but you don’t have to.” He smooths my hair back and puts his lips to my neck. “Don’t forget, Callie, you are mine, and I take care of what is mine.” He gently nips at my neck. “Now you are my wife, with my child inside of you.”

  Desire washes over me, and if I didn’t have to get up to pee, I’d flip Lucas over on the mattress and climb on top right now.

  “Hold that thought,” I tell him, lifting my head off the pillow so I can kiss him once more before shimmying out from under him and going into the bathroom. I use the toilet and brush my teeth, then run a brush through my messy hair.

  The upstairs of this house is smaller than the downstairs, and the bathroom door is between the two bedrooms. There’s a small landing at the top o
f the stairs, and I pause as I walk past it on the way to my room. The air feels…different.

  Familiar, but different.

  I close my eyes and hold out my hands, trying to get a read on it. There’s a slight vibration, and whatever it is calls to me.

  “Julian?” I whisper and inch toward the stairs. He doesn’t answer. “Do you feel that?” I ask Binx, who’s winding around my feet. He meows softly and pads down the stairs, going to the front door. I make a move to go outside and then remember the alarm system.

  “I’ll make you breakfast,” Lucas says, coming into the kitchen and stepping up behind me. I enter the password and the alarm system beeps once, letting me know it’s been disarmed.

  “In just a minute,” I say quickly and move away from him, hurrying to the front door again. A gust of wind rattles the windows and pushes the door in as soon as I open it. My hair flies wildly around my face.

  There’s a letter on the welcome mat. It should have been blown away, yet there is it, sitting unmoving. The familiar vibrations in the air increase and I bend down, picking up the letter. I step back inside, telekinetically closing the door.

  There’s nothing written on the letter, yet I know it’s from Michael. My fingers shake as I tear open the envelope.

  “What is that?” Lucas ask.

  I pull out a picture and turn it over. Tears immediately spring to my eyes as I look down at a raven-haired young woman with bright green eyes. She’s standing in the forest, wearing a black dress. A simple sliver bracelet is around her right wrist. She’s smiling at the camera, hands resting on her pregnant belly.

  I look up at Lucas, tears rolling down my cheeks. “That’s my mother.”

  Chapter 10

  “She’s beautiful.” I wipe my eyes, not wanting tears to splash on the photo.

  “You look like her,” Lucas says gently.

  “Michael told me that too.”

  I stare at the photo again, noticing our similarities. She has dark hair, cut just below her shoulders, and green eyes. I’m not her carbon copy, but there’s no doubt this woman is my mother. She’s pregnant in this photo, and I either have a half-sibling who was born before me, or that’s me in her belly. She looks pretty far along here, and is still smiling.

  Did she know when this photo was taken that she wouldn’t make it past childbirth? Michael told me they’d discussed it, and it was my mother’s dying wish to have Michael do whatever it took to keep me safe and alive.

  And he did.

  I flip the photo over, looking to see if anything was written on the back. July 26th is written in neat cursive handwriting at the bottom of the photo, but no year was given. Assuming this was me, then this was taken only a month and a half before I was born.

  I turn the photo back over and stare at my mother’s face. So many emotions are going through me right now, and pregnancy hormones or not, I would be a mess. I know what my mother looked like, and seeing her makes it even more real…as well as make me miss her even more.

  “How can I miss someone I’ve never met?” I choke out, hardly able to talk without crying.

  “You miss what could have been.” His hand rests on my waist. “She would have been proud of you, Callie.”

  And now I’m crying. “I hope so.”

  “I know so. You are incredible.” He turns me toward him and cups my face in his large hands. “I’ve told you, my love, in all my years I’ve never met anyone who comes close to holding a candle to you.”

  “I love you,” I whisper, more tears rolling down my cheeks. Lucas wipes them away and kisses me.

  “Do you have a frame?”

  “A frame? Oh, for the picture.” I look into the office at my cluttered bookshelf. “Yeah. We can use one of those for now.”

  Lucas kisses me once more and goes into the office, picking up a dusty picture frame. The photo inside is several years old, and is of Kristy and me at a local author event we hosted at our store. Lucas puts the picture of my mother inside and dusts off the glass with his fingers.

  “There. It’s safe.”

  “Yeah.” I put my finger over my mother’s face and close my eyes, sniffling. “Fuck, I’m a mess.”

  “I believe you referred to yourself as a hot mess, and I have to agree.” Lucas snakes his arms around me, picking me up and carrying me to the couch. Another gust of wind presses against the window, and thunder rumbles in the distance.

  “Do you think he heard me talking last night?” I put the photo on the coffee table, unable to take my eyes off of it. “Michael, I mean.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he knows how much you needed this right now.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” I reach for the blanket I keep over the back of the couch and remember I left it in the kitchen last night. “I’d prefer that. I don’t like anyone listening in, and if he can hear me, then I think Lucifer can too. I thought I had to specifically direct my thoughts to them, like a prayer.”

  “You need a Magneto helmet.”

  “You’re such a nerd,” I tease. “Though if you find a helmet that blocks out telepathy, I wouldn’t turn it down.”

  Lucas chuckles. “You and me both.”

  I curl my legs up and inch closer to Lucas. “I wonder if anyone from my coven would recognize her.”

  “It’s worth asking…as long as you think it’s a good idea.”

  “I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. If someone knows who she is, I could find out more about that side of my family.”

  “Then bring the photo when you go to the Feast of the Blood Moon.”

  “I will.” I stare at my mother’s smiling face. “I have so many questions,” I sigh. “Was she able to tell anyone about Michael? Did her friends and family know the real reason for her death? And if they knew she was pregnant, did they wonder what happened to her baby?” I roll my head to the side, stretching out my neck. “I suppose none of it matters. It won’t make a difference to anything, anyway. And if I did find my grandparents or something crazy like that, it’s not like I can just walk up and introduce myself. They’ll want to know who my father was, and I know I could lie, but I’m tired of all these lies.”

  “I know,” Lucas says gently. My stomach is a little unsettled since I haven’t taken any morning sickness potion yet today. Rain starts to patter against the windows, making me get up and let Scarlet out before it starts pouring. She dashes inside right as the clouds open up, dumping rain down on us.

  “This is the last of the bacon,” Lucas tells me.

  “I’ll go grocery shopping later.” I turn my gaze to the window. “When there’s a break in the rain.”

  “You don’t have to,” he reminds me. “You can order groceries, or I can send Monica.”

  “Yeah,” I say and pull my shirt tight over my waist, looking to see if I look pregnant yet. I don’t. Shocker, I know. “I would say I don’t want to order groceries because you can’t have wine delivered with your grocery order, but that doesn’t matter anymore.” I run my hand over my stomach, mentally saying goodbye to my abs, and heavily sit in a chair at the table. “Figures Lucifer waits until I can’t drink to bust his ass out of Hell. Because I could really use a drink right now. I might even skip the Moscato and go right for the vodka.”

  Lucas looks at me over his shoulder, frowning. He’s not one to judge me for indulging myself. Lord knows he’s the king of indulgence, but even he’s noted on my unhealthy coping mechanism of drinking my troubles away.

  In the back of my mind, I know it’s an issue, but my whole life has been one big issue after another. Which stems right back to me not actually dealing with my issues, rather ignoring them, hoping they’ll just go away on their own.

  “After the baby is born, I’m going on a bender,” I only half joke. “Well, unless I breastfeed.” I shudder and bring my hands to my breasts. “I love my boobs. They’re so firm and perky. I’ve been so blessed in the tit department, I don’t want to mess it up.”

  “They’re starting to get a little bigger,” Luca
s notes as he cracks an egg into a bowl.

  “Already?”

  He turns on the burner to preheat the pan and comes over. “There’s only one way to find out. Lift up your shirt.”

  “I mean, we have to be sure.” I pull my shirt up and Lucas cups my breasts in his hands.

  “Hmmm…it needs further evaluation.” He circles his thumb over my nipples.

  “What’s the verdict?”

  “They are bigger. How they feel in my hands is something I’m quite familiar with.”

  I look down at myself. “I don’t notice a difference.”

  “I’m more observant than you when it comes to your tits,” he says and gets up.

  “That you are.” I smile and tip my head up for a kiss. I search online for last-minute costumes, cringing at the expensive-as-fuck shipping, but I need these here in a day.

  Lucas works in the office after breakfast, and I take a book and a blanket onto the back porch, cuddling up on the bench. The worst of the storm is over, and the steady rain and rumbling thunder is the perfect reading weather.

  And apparently sleeping weather, because I wake up an hour later to my phone ringing. It slipped off the bench when I fell asleep, and misty rain blew in, making it wet. Novel Grounds comes up on the caller ID. I quickly dry it so I can answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Callie, it’s Betty.”

  “Oh, hey. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, don’t worry. That crazy storm knocked the power out. The whole block is dark. What do you want us to do? I’m here with Danielle this morning.”

  “Uh,” I start, thinking back to the last time this happened. “We can run the payments on an iPad and write down cash transaction. You’ll have to use a calculator to figure out change. I’ll come and help you set everything up. Put a sign up on the door now so people know they’ll either have to pay with cash or wait fifteen to twenty minutes to use their cards. Give me like five minutes to get put together and I’ll head out. Are the backup lights on?”