Queen of Night

by Emily Goodwin

  “The kids were pretty drunk,” Ruby assures everyone. “They were ranting about a werewolf and aliens and sounded pretty crazy.”

  “The cops have to know something is going on in this town.” Evander cuts into his food. “They might not be the brightest, but you’d have to be pretty damn dull not to catch on.”

  “The cop who showed up today was the same one who questioned me after I stopped the demon in the root cellar the day before my wedding,” I add ruefully. “If memories need to be wiped, I’ll have Lucas do it.”

  “It’s more than memories,” Kristy replies, looking a little nervous. “There were reports filed and things put into the computer system. Are you worried they’re going to investigate you further?”

  I quickly shake my head. “It’s not like they’ll find anything.”

  But they could. Because I killed someone, someone human, someone whose family could be looking for him. Anxiety starts to make its way up my spine. If anything, Roger’s family will think he was killed by demons. He was a hunter, after all, and it’s not like hunters are rule-abiding citizens.

  And there’s no body. No murder weapon. The police can investigate me all they want.

  “True, and even with the existence of vampires, people are still denying anything else is out there,” Ruby adds.

  “Hell, some people still think vampires are humans with some sort of blood sickness,” Nicole quips, shaking her head.

  “They won’t take the report of werewolves seriously,” Evander starts. “But they will take a vicious animal attack seriously. The last thing we need is a band of redneck hunters walking through our woods with rifles.”

  “Our warding will keep them away,” Naomi says confidently. “And if it doesn’t…well…it might be fun to scare them off ourselves.”

  “Ohhh, that would be fun,” Nicole giggles, looking at her twin. “We could make them think they’re crazy.”

  “And shoot at each other,” Naomi suggests. They both look at me, waiting to see what I’d do to drive the hunters away. I open my mouth only to snap it shut.

  “We’ll put up another warding. Keep them away.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Naomi mumbles.

  “We want to make them think there’s nothing here,” I remind them. “Not give them reason to investigate further. You never know if one of the nons might be a believer.”

  “That’s a good point,” Evander agrees. “There are a handful of nons who believed vampires were real before they came out of the coffin, and even more who believe in other supernatural powers, like witchcraft and ghosts.”

  “We’ve warded nons away for centuries,” Ruby says. “We’ll keep warding them away.”

  I nudge Kristy’s arm. “And come on, guys, this is the fucking Feast of the Blood Moon. We’re supposed to be getting drunk and running around in the moonlight naked. Except I can’t drink so you have to do it for me, okay?”

  “My clothes are staying on,” Kristy says firmly, and Nicole, Naomi, and I all laugh.

  “I seem to remember two years ago there was a certain incident where you lost your pants.” I cut into my steak, mouth watering. I’m starving and suddenly craving meat bad.

  “You promised not to talk about that again.” Kristy’s blue eyes drill into me, but she’s trying not to laugh. “And I’m wearing a dress this year. So, I won’t be losing my pants.”

  “You’ll just be losing the whole thing,” Nicole chuckles.

  “Don’t worry.” I give Kirsty a wink. “You got me here as your lame DD. I’ll wrap you in my cloak before anyone sees your pasty butt.”

  Kristy presses a smile. “What a good friend you are.”

  “I’m the best,” I say with an over-the-top smile. We all laugh and dig into our food, shifting our conversation and our attitudes back to the feast. Time goes by fast, between the eating, dancing, and partaking in the ancient tradition of standing in a circle under the moonlight, letting it bathe us in its power and glory.

  I feel energized and refreshed—and totally wiped out—when the feast starts to wind down. My friends are still going strong but I’m ready for bed. We’re outside in the courtyard of the Covenstead, with a big bonfire going and bottles of wine have been laid out in offering to Lady Diana, and will be considered blessed by the sunrise.

  I say bye to my friends and look around the courtyard for Tabatha. As High Priestess of the coven, she’s been busy going around and talking to everyone as well as leading any rituals tonight. I took a picture of the photograph of my mother before I got changed to leave, and I have to ask her if she recognizes her. I might not get a chance to come back to the Covenstead before Lucas and I leave for Florida, and I want to enjoy every single second of this trip.

  I don’t want to spend our whole vacation being anxious to get back to Thorne Hill just so I can mostly likely be disappointed that she has no idea who the woman in the photograph is.

  Mentally calling my familiars, I go inside the gathering hall and find Tabatha sitting at a crowded table filled with some of the coven’s eldest members. It’s customary to say goodbye, so I walk through the hall, eyeing an untouched Shepherd's Pie on one of the tables. If it weren't cold, I’d grab it and eat it.

  “Callie, my darling,” Tabatha greets me, standing and pulling me in for a hug. “Taking off already?”

  “Yeah, I’m tired.”

  Tabatha smiles, knowing the reason I’m tired and also knowing I’m not making my pregnancy public just yet. “Rest is important. How are you otherwise?”

  “So much better. Thank you.”

  “Good. It saved me,” she says, referencing the potion she made to get rid of my morning sickness.

  “Can I talk to you for a quick second?”

  “Of course.” Concern flickers over Tabatha’s face for a second. “Excuse me,” she says to everyone sitting at the table. We walk out in the hall, and the music and laughter slowly fade. “Did something happen in the woods? I was informed about the scrappers.”

  “Maybe, the kids swear they were attacked by a werewolf, but I was actually going to ask you something.” I pull my phone out of the deep pocket on the inside of my cloak. “Michael left this for me. It’s my mother.”

  “Your mother?”

  “It has to be her. Look.” I hand her the phone.

  “Oh!” Tabatha’s eyes widen when she gazes down at the photo, looking almost shocked. “I see the resemblance.” She looks at me and then back at the photo. “You got your green eyes from her.”

  I work hard from getting emotional. “I did. This photo is a little over twenty-six years old assuming that’s me in there. Do you recognize her or anything about the photo?”

  Tabatha zooms in on the photo, looking at the necklace my mother is wearing. It’s the triple-goddess symbol, widely used among witches. It’s the unofficial symbol of our coven.

  “No,” she tells me, handing the phone back. “I’ve never seen her before.”

  “I figured it was a long shot.”

  Tabatha forces a smile. “I should get back to the feast. Take care, my darling girl.” She pulls me in for a quick hug and turns on her heel, long scarlet dress whooshing around her feet. That was a little odd, and I can’t shake the feeling that Tabatha isn’t telling me the whole truth.

  But…why?

  Chapter 18

  The house is dark when I emerge from the woods. Freya and Pandora shadow ahead, bounding up onto the porch. Binx stays by me, winding between my legs. We always move in perfectly harmony, and I’ve never once tripped over him. I pause, looking at the house, and wonder what Lucas is doing in the dark. Though it’s not like he needs the light.

  I pick up Binx and he rubs his head on me, purring. Holding him like a baby, I kiss the top of his head and walk the rest of the way to the house. I’m tired and feeling almost winded from the walk through the woods. I really need to get back into a good workout routine. My life is a bit too unpredictable for routines, unfortunately.

  Usi
ng magic, I open the back door and step into the house. I can smell the fire going in the fireplace before I see the soft glow of the flames. Smiling, I untie my cloak and hang it on the back of a kitchen chair.

  “Lucas?” I call softly.

  “Hello, my love.” He comes in through the living room, handsome face shadowed by the dark. My heart swells in my chest at the sight of him, and every nerve in my body comes alive when he pulls me into his arms, dipping me back for a kiss.

  “I missed you,” I tell him, sliding my arm down his chest. “Is that pathetic?”

  “Maybe a little,” he teases and kisses me again. He scoops me up and carries me into the living room, sitting us both down on the couch. A roaring fire crackles before us, warming the room.

  “That feels good,” I say, closing my eyes and holding my hands out. “It got cold fast tonight, and the temp is still dropping.”

  Lucas holds me tighter and gets the blanket. “Did you enjoy the feast?”

  “I did.” I take the blanket from him and spread it out over our legs. “It felt good to be back to normal.” Resting my head against his chest, I give myself a minute to enjoy this moment. I’m snuggled on the couch with the love of my life, my hellhound is chewing on a bone, actually using the dog bed I got her, and my familiars are near at the hearth, enjoying the fire as well.

  It’s simple. Safe. I wish it could last. But I know it won’t.

  “I showed Tabatha the photo of my mother,” I start, lifting my head so I can look at Lucas. His hair is messy, with the ends starting to curl. It looks so good on him. I don’t want him to cut his hair anytime soon. Vampires’ hair and nails grow much slower than humans, and it weirds me out too much to stop and actually think about it.

  Lucas died the day he became a vampire. Someone drank all of his blood and then fed him their own, the moment before he took his last breath. Dark magic rose inside of him, bringing him back in a sense. His heart doesn’t beat, yet blood—mostly my blood now—circulates through his system. His hair still grows, just very slowly.

  “Did she recognize her?” Lucas kisses the side of my neck.

  “She said she didn’t,” I start, closing my eyes as I see it play out in front of me all over again. “But I think she lied.” Guilt hits me as soon as the words leave my mouth. Tabatha has been nothing but good to me. She’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother, and I know she truly loves me.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “She looked shocked when she saw the photo, and it was just a feeling I got. Like she was hiding something.” I let out a heavy sigh. “But I don’t know why she’d lie. If she knew her, why not tell me?”

  “I don’t know,” Lucas says gently. “It’s not the first time she’s kept something from you. She knew you weren’t human the day she took you out of that research lab.”

  “Right. She was trying to protect me.”

  “Did it protect you, though?” Lucas tips his head, looking at me. “Did keeping the fact you weren’t human from you actually protect you? You knew deep down you weren’t like the other witches. Until recently, you thought you were a member of the Martin family. If part of you wasn’t human, then it would have made sense to assume William Martin wasn’t your biological father. Yet for years, you thought he was, and I know that hurt you.”

  “It did,” I say quietly. “I understand why she hid the truth them. I might not have been welcomed into the coven if everyone knew I wasn’t fully human. I’d already dealt with a lot too.”

  “As a child, yes. But you deserved to know the truth.”

  I let out a shaky breath, really wishing I could drown my sorrows and dull my senses with a big glass of wine right now. “Does Abby deserve to know the truth?”

  “That’s different, Callie, and you know it. Not knowing who you are isn’t the same as protecting her from a traumatic memory she has no need to remember.”

  “You’re right.” I close my eyes, feeling all shaky and it’s not from the cold. “And I’m sure my life would have turned out a lot different if I’d known from the start that I wasn’t actually human. Like you said, it would have meant that one of the Martins wasn’t my actual parent, and I probably would have assumed it was my dad, because I saw the photos of Nancy when she was pregnant with the baby I thought was me.”

  My throat suddenly feels tight again, as thoughts I’ve refused to let come into my head come crashing down.

  “Callie?” Lucas asks gently when he sees me tearing up.

  “A baby girl died. Nancy gave birth to her real child, and she was born sleeping.”

  “You know that’s not your fault, right? It was just good timing,” Lucas says and then winces. “Well, not good, favorable?”

  “I know what you mean. I didn’t kill the baby, and my father didn’t. At least Nancy got to take a baby home from the hospital.” Lacing my fingers with Lucas’s, I rest his hand over my abdomen. “We already feel attachment to this baby and it’s the size of a seed. I can’t imagine having a baby, raising a child for years, and then…then…”

  “Giving them up?”

  “That too, but realizing the kid was never really mine. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I feel bad for Nancy or give her a pass for what she did, but the whole situation was so fucked up.”

  “It was,” Lucas agrees. “Though wouldn’t you still love the child just the same. Like you said, she raised you. Cared for you and loved you. How can you throw that all away?”

  “I don’t know.” My eyes close again as exhaustion weighs on me. “You hear crazy stories about people being switched at birth. It’s like a one-in-a-million chance thing, but it happens. And if it did and I raised a baby who wasn’t biologically mine…I don’t think I could just give them up.”

  “We have no choice in the blood that binds us,” Lucas starts, pressing his lips to my neck. “But love is thicker than blood. As our love has proven.”

  And now I can’t stop the tears from falling. I twist, moving so I’m straddling Lucas. I press my lips to his, salty tears running down my face.

  “Don’t waste a single ounce of your energy wondering or worrying about Nancy fucking Martin,” Lucas tells me, hands fastening around my waist. “Biological or not, you were here child, and she sold you like a worthless animal. She willingly let her other daughter—the one I’m sure she had DNA tested—believe for years that her own sister was thrown away like a piece of trash. Abby has done well for herself, but the guilt over the years has weighed on her. We can both see that.”

  “Now it’s my turn to be guilty.”

  “Stop,” Lucas gently scolds. “You saved your sister’s life. Indirectly, at least. And you spared her from years of therapy.”

  “I know,” I sigh, not wanting to get into how she wouldn’t have gotten shot if it weren't for me. Which if I want to be fair, I can trace back and put the blame on that fucking vampire who sent Roger after me.

  My hit list keeps getting longer and longer.

  “Try to relax.” Lucas slides his hands up my waist and cups my breasts. I’m not wearing a bra with this dress, and he lets out a throaty growl when his thumbs slide over my nipples.

  And then I wince.

  “Sorry. Sensitive nipples are a pregnancy side effect.” Lucas lowers his hands, trying hard not to look disappointed.

  “You need to stop vampire-speed reading the pregnancy websites,” I grumble. “You know more about it than I do.” Refusing to give up, I put his hands back on my breasts. I usually love when he plays with my nipples, and I’ve never suffered from tender breasts before during my period.

  This whole feeling more human thing sucks.

  “Just…be gentle?”

  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He lowers his hands again.

  “This is weird.” I let out a sigh and rest my head against Lucas’s. “It’s like my body isn’t mine anymore, and I don’t have a big stomach yet.”

  “What you’re feeling is normal,” Lucas ass
ures me as he picks me up and lays me down on the couch next to him. “I might have read through an entire thread where first-time moms discussed it.”

  “I’m going to have to get on that. Or maybe talk to Abby because she’s the only person I converse with who has children. Fuck. I’m going to be the first of my friends to have a baby. I always thought it would be Kristy. She’s so nurturing.”

  “I just couldn’t help but knock you up.”

  I laugh. “You love saying that.”

  “I do.” He kisses me and hooks his leg over mine. “Are you tired?”

  “Exhausted.”

  “Let’s go to bed.”

  I close my eyes again. “I like being by the fire.”

  “Do you want me to bring the mattress down?”

  “You’d do that?” I lift my head and turn, looking into his gorgeous blue eyes.

  “If you want to sleep by the fire, then we will sleep by the fire. I’m comfortable on the couch with you, but you do tend to move around a lot in your sleep. My pregnant wife is not sleeping on the floor.”

  “You are so good to me.”

  “You only deserve the best.”

  “I have an air mattress in the basement. It would be easier than taking the mattress off our bed and carrying it down the stairs.”

  “It’s not much an issue for me,” he reminds me. “Though I think the mattress from the guest room would fit better in the living room than the king-sized one.”

  “Probably.” I sit up, groaning at the thought of having to take my makeup off. I’m going to be lazy and just wipe my face with a makeup-removing wipe. I’ll wash it in the morning. “I’ll move the couch and you get the bed?”

  “You’re not moving anything heavy.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not fragile, remember? And I wasn’t going to actually touch it.” I hold out my hand, flicking my finger and telekinetically throwing a pillow off the loveseat across from us. “I won’t put any strain on myself.”