by M. J. Haag
“Have you seen this one before?” I asked as he came to sit beside me.
“Yes. She doesn’t listen and stay home.”
I snorted a laugh and leaned into him as he put an arm around the back of the couch and set his hand on my belly. His touch, his attention, and the movie chipped away at my common sense not to fall any deeper into my attraction to Shax. I felt the way my stomach dipped when his thumb made little circles of the past places the baby had kicked.
“You know what? I'm pretty tired and think I should go to bed.”
He didn't comment as I stood and went upstairs. I partially closed the bedroom door and listened to the water run in the kitchen. Guilt poked at me for not helping him clean up, but I needed to play it smart. There was no time for a broken heart in a broken world.
“Cassie told me what's healthy. I will find you the right food. Do not let your mommy eat Garrett food. It might not be healthy for you.”
It was a good thing I was a morning person, or his words would have annoyed me. That was a lie. There was no chance of being annoyed with him when his hand was circling my stomach like that. The warm, soothing caress made a full journey around my belly, then paused. His lips pressed to a spot just to the left of my navel, and he started the journey again, dipping low toward my public line. My breath caught.
“Men will talk nice to your mommy. You should not let her listen. You know who is best. Shax is best.”
His hand made another circle around, and this time his fingers nearly hit the V of my legs.
I stage-yawned.
“Boy, am I hungry,” I said, sitting up and dislodging his touch. “I could sure go for some Shax food.”
Shax’s hand immediately went to my belly again.
“Good morning, Angel.”
“Morning. What's for breakfast?”
“Oatmeal. It does not taste good, but Cassie says it is healthy.”
I grinned at him.
“I've noticed how you guys like eating meat more than all the grains and vegetables. I like meat, too. But Cassie’s right. A variety is good for me.”
“And good for the baby. I know,” Shax said.
I nodded, reminding myself that I should be grateful by his focus on the baby’s wellbeing and not hurt by it.
He gave me the room to myself, and I took my time taking a shower. When I got downstairs, there was a bowl of oatmeal waiting on the table. This one had bits of red in it. I inhaled deeply.
“Strawberries and cream? This is perfect. I haven't had this in so long.” I sat down and immediately started eating. Shax watched me closely.
“Should I make more?”
“No, this should be good,” I said between bites.
Before I scraped the bottom of the bowl, someone knocked on the door. Shax went to answer. Given how big he was, I couldn't see who was there before he slammed the door shut again.
“Who was it?” I asked.
“Angel?” Garrett called from outside.
I quickly stood and tried to move around Shax to open the door again. He blocked me.
“He ate your food.”
“Shax, move,” I said, shoving at him with all my might.
He made that adorable frustrated sound, but he moved back a step. I quickly opened the door.
“I'm so sorry, Garrett.”
“It's okay,” Garrett said. “I just wanted to come by and see if you’d thought of anything that you might want.”
“I really meant what I said yesterday. I'm not picky. Any food will be welcome.”
Shax made a growling noise behind me, and Garrett’s gaze shifted to just over my shoulder. I held onto the door and the frame to block Shax from trying to close Garrett out again. I knew how he felt about Garrett food, but food was food.
“All right. I'll be back later tonight with some stuff then.”
“Thanks.”
I closed the door and turned on Shax.
“Food is food, Shax. You know people can’t afford to be picky. So, what’s your deal?”
“He ate your food,” Shax said again.
“First of all, no, he didn't. Well, I mean he kind of did, but the other people took it and split it up. He was just there. He was actually pretty nice about saving me some. Second—”
“He should have taken it back from them and gave it to you.”
“Second of all,” I continued as if he hadn’t interrupted, “getting me food now is like replacing what they took.”
“Why take it and then offer to replace it? He wants something.” Shax’s expression was getting more thunderous by the moment. “A deal. You will not be friends with benefits with Garrett.”
I held up my hands placatingly.
“It’s not like that at all. Garrett knows I'm pregnant. He's just trying to be nice. He doesn't want anything to happen to the baby. Just like you.”
That seemed to anger Shax further.
“You do not need Garrett food. I will get you food.”
Without grabbing his jacket, he stormed out the door.
I rolled my eyes and went back to my oatmeal. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with mood swings. The fey always seemed so dramatically outrageous when it came to females. It seemed to be worse with babies, and telling Shax that Garrett knew about the pregnancy probably hadn't been the best move.
Shax had been very clear in his desire to stake a claim on the baby. He’d been possessive of my baby bump since the moment he knew what it meant. Now, he would be even more jealous. For both his sake and mine, I really needed to come up with a way to get him back on track with Hannah. As much as I hated the idea of going to her, letting Shax get any more attached to the baby would just cause us both problems.
As soon as I finished my breakfast, I got dressed and went outside. The day was yet again crisp and cool. But sunny, too. It would have been a nice day if it were filled with normal life sounds. Instead of birds and the rumble of engines passing by, I heard the unhappy murmurs of people walking around, giving each other suspicious glances.
Keeping my head down, I made my way toward Hannah and Emily's place. I spotted Emily rushing my direction before I reached the corner.
“You're going the wrong direction,” she said. “Come on.” She hooked her arm through mine and steered me toward Mya's house.
“What's going on?”
“Thallirin and Merdon are back. They were spotted by the fey on the wall.”
I tried to remember those names and couldn’t come up with anything.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“With Molev not here, it will be,” she said to me. Then, more to herself, she added, “I wonder how many hearts they have.”
“Hearts?” I asked, lost in the conversation.
“Do you really not know? The only way to kill a hellhound is to remove its heart and crush it. Something only the fey can do. Thallirin and Merdon did something, I’m not sure what, that caused them to be banished by Molev. To win their way back in, they have to kill twenty hellhounds apiece. Their count’s pretty high already. But for a kill to count, they have to crush the heart in front of Molev.”
“So they can’t crush the hearts yet.”
“Right. And, until the hearts are crushed, the hellhounds will try to get them back.”
I finally understood. The hellhounds were coming.
Chapter Eleven
Emily and I weren’t the first ones to reach Mya’s house. A good-sized crowd already stood on the lawn. As we joined those standing near the back, I caught sight of two fey walking down the street.
“Molev!” one of them shouted.
Some of the people in front of us started to shout back.
“Turn around and go back where you came from.”
“You’re not wanted here.”
I glanced at Emily, who had a slight crease of worry in her brow. Open hostility toward the fey was new. People normally weren’t that stupid.
The door to Drav’s house opened, and he stepped out.
The shouts quieted to murmured grousing as his angry gaze swept over the crowd gathered in front of his house. When his gaze touched me, I wanted to turn around and go back home. However, more people were arriving, locking Emily and me in place.
I leaned toward Emily.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be here.”
She shook her head, her focus locked on Drav and the two-approaching fey. I studied them as well.
Like all fey, the two newcomers towered over the average man. Even from this distance, I could see their long dark hair, grey skin, and bulk. Yet, for all their impressive strength and grace, one of the two was limping heavily.
“He looks hurt,” I said.
“Merdon was already hurt when he left.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Not sure. A week?”
“The fey are supposed to heal fast, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. They are.” I could hear the worry in her voice.
The fey ignored the remarks yelled at them by the humans and strode forward, parting the haters, to approach Drav. I grinned. The survivors might talk shit, but they knew damn well who was in charge. Drav spoke to the two, but I couldn't hear what he was saying over the grumbles coming from the people nearest the front.
“Let's move closer,” Emily said, tugging me through the crowd.
“Two days behind,” one of the fey said. “Maybe less.”
“You traveled far,” Drav said.
“We went further west, looking for more survivors.”
One of the fey grunted.
“We do not know when Molev will return,” Drav said. I could tell by his change in expression that he was troubled by Molev’s continued absence.
The crowd didn’t seem to like it either because the shouts started again.
“You can't expect us to stay here.”
“You need to get rid of them.”
“You're jeopardizing our safety.”
“Send them away.”
The antipathy was ridiculous. The two fey looked utterly exhausted. One of them more so than the other. Even exhausted, though, both fey could probably kick the complainers’ asses.
“Stay and rest,” Drav said. “Mya would like to talk to you before the sun sets. Come back then.”
The two fey moved away, and the crowd got angrier.
“Mark my words,” someone else said above the rest of the shouting. “We’ll be dead in two days if those two don’t leave.”
Someone jostled into me, and I felt a sharp elbow in my side as someone pushed past me.
“Mya and Drav are doing this on purpose.”
“Too many mouths to feed.”
Others started to push forward as well.
“They want to kill us all.”
Where in the hell did these people think they were going? Did they actually believe something good would happen if they started pounding on Drav’s door?
“We have to go,” I said to Emily.
She nodded but was moved away from me in the next moment. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I kept my head down and wedged my way out of the group.
When I cleared the bodies, I looked back for Emily. She was moving her way toward the side of the group just as the first person reached the front door. Not wanting to hang around for what would happen next, I pivoted and hurried down the sidewalk.
I wasn’t the only one leaving. A few fey turned away from their positions where they’d been watching from the shadows between houses or near trees. My heart went out to them. How had they not given up hope on us yet?
I hadn’t made it very far when Drav’s roar echoed from behind me. At least, I figured it was him. No other fey had a reason to be mad other than an overprotective fey. I hoped he knocked some sense into the complainers.
A few houses up, I spotted Hannah talking to one of the fey. Whatever the guy was saying to her had her shaking her head vehemently. They exchanged a few more words, and she turned away angrily.
I tried to speed up my pace to get out of there before she noticed me.
“Angel! Wait up,” she called. Without any other choice, I slowed down.
“Hi, Hannah,” I said when she approached, her pretty dark blonde ringlets bouncing with each step. She looked like one of those porcelain china dolls. Perfect, pretty, and in need of protection. No wonder Shax had a thing for her.
“Did Emily find you?” Hannah asked when she caught up with me.
“Yeah. She should be coming this way any minute.” I looked back the way I’d come.
“No. Emily knows I’m covering this side of Tolerance. She’ll try the other side. How did the meeting go? Were there a lot of people?”
“More than there should have been. All wanting to bite the hand that feeds them.”
“I'm glad you see it that way, too. We need the fey as much as they need us. Well, the females, anyway. How many hearts did Thallirin and Merdon have?”
“They didn’t say. At least, not that we could hear.”
She swore softly.
“I should have gone, but I hate crowds.” She shuddered lightly and paled. “God, I wish I had something to drink.”
She took a calming breath and tucked her hands in her jacket pockets.
“I heard you’re staying with Shax.”
“Yeah. The people who took over the house I was staying in found my stash of food and got a little mean about it. Shax didn’t seem to mind giving up a spare room. I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure. It’s a smart move. I would have done the same if he wouldn’t read into it. Especially now. Things are going to get way worse once we have hellhounds howling outside the walls. I’m never going to sleep again.” She swallowed hard and looked away for a moment. “Mind if I walk with you?”
“No. I don’t mind.” I did, though, because I was having a hard time not feeling sorry for Hannah. Like all the rest of us, she had a story. And I had a feeling it wasn’t a pretty one.
We walked in silence for a bit before she spoke again.
“I know there aren’t many of us humans left, and we need to watch out for each other, but having the people from Whiteman live here is a bad idea. Not only are they going to sour the fey’s opinion of us, but these people are going to start fighting. And, between you and me, this idea of Matt’s isn’t going to help. These people don’t need a Tolerance lookalike. They need a Whiteman. Whiteman kept them so worn down they didn’t spend their time thinking about their next meal or if they were getting their fair share. They were just happy to be alive. It also highlighted their need for the fey. Creating another place like this will give people the idea that we don’t need the fey.”
“Only until they need to go outside the wall for supplies,” I said. But I wasn’t disagreeing with her assessment of the situation. Things would likely get worse before they got better. If they ever got better.
“Hey, can you wait here a second while I go talk to that fey?” Hannah asked, nodding toward a fey watching us.
“Sure.” I watched her jog toward him and wished she wasn’t so right about there not being anything in Tolerance to keep people busy. If there was, I would have had an excuse to get home instead of standing on the sidewalk as another fey seemingly annoyed Hannah.
She jogged back toward me with a scowl on her face.
“I know one of them did it,” she said, clearly frustrated.
“Did what?”
“There was a box full of food on our porch this morning. Unfortunately, Emily and I didn’t find it first. One of my other housemates did. I need to find who left it and arrange another way to leave supplies so Emily and I can tuck some away first.” She glanced at me and shrugged. “These people aren’t rationing. They get food, and they eat it all.”
“Maybe they're hungry.”
“There were leftovers in the fridge from the last meal. No. They're bored, and they’re scared. A dangerous combination for the rest of us.”
She was right about that. We were already seeing the results
of bored and scared. If Hannah and Emily were right about hellhounds showing up in a few days, the mood of those in Tolerance would take a nosedive.
“Hopefully, Molev returns soon,” I said.
“Yeah. Hopefully.”
I spotted Shax’s house ahead. It felt weird walking with Hannah toward his home.
“How is it living with him?” she asked.
“Fine. He’s nice.”
“They’re all nice. Has he made a pass at you?”
“No.” He hadn’t. Not really. Everything that had happened between us was because he was trying to learn what Hannah wanted in a man, not because he was interested in me. So, none of it counted. At least not in a way that mattered to Hannah.
“Good,” she said. “Is he feeding you?”
I thought of Shax’s shit-fit over the food Garrett had given me and chuckled a little.
“He’s trying but is a little stubborn about what I’m allowed to eat. I think he went out today to find some more supplies.”
“During the day?”
I shrugged. He had done it the day before. I didn't understand why she seemed so surprised.
“That's what I love about him. He’s got balls. I hope no one catches him coming back in with the goods. It'd be a shame if he had to give it all away before he even reaches his house.”
I stayed quiet, not sure what to say to that.
“Well, tell Shax I'm looking for him,” she said.
I’d known the slap had been a shock reaction. Hell, if he’d asked to knock me up like he had Hannah, I probably would have wanted to deck him, too. Yet, despite her use of the L-word, a protective part of me needed to be sure that her need to talk to him wasn’t just about the supply box she found.
“He gave me the impression you were mad at him and not speaking,” I said.
She waved her hand dismissively.
“It was nothing. He said some stuff I wasn’t ready to hear. But, after I cooled down, I realized he hadn’t said anything I hadn’t already known. I just needed to get used to the idea.”