Stolen Dreams

by Christine Amsden

“No, I wasn’t.”

  Evan gave me an exasperated look. “You were. I felt it. I’ve been working on the design of that crystal I gave you so you don’t even have to think about it if you’re hurt.”

  “Well, work harder, because I wasn’t….” I smacked my forehead. “Seriously? I fell out of a chair and it sensed that? I think it’s too sensitive.”

  “I disagree. I’m glad to know it wasn’t serious, though.”

  “You’re still trying to protect me.”

  “You expected me to stop?”

  No, I hadn’t. “Where are we going?”

  “You said you wanted to talk to my father.”

  I had said that, although now that I knew I was heading in that direction, I felt a terrible sense of dread at meeting my father’s murderer face to face. And I would never think of Victor Blackwood any other way, even if I did find out someone else had lent a helping hand. Victor had delivered the death blow. He had done so in anger, and for vengeance; after all the enmity between them, he had to be feeling pretty satisfied right now.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, Victor had always given me the creeps. He had always had this way of looking at me, as if I were a bug. I’d always had the impression that if he thought of me as anything, it was as a tool to help his campaign of vengeance against my father. In a way, I don’t believe I had ever evolved in his mind beyond the mere possibility I had been when he had drunkenly cast the curse upon my mother that stole the magic from her firstborn child. He had loved the idea of Evan marrying me all along, something that had surprised me at the time, although now I understood his twisted humor all too well. How ironic, he would think, to have his son marry the woman whose magic he possessed. How fitting to top off his revenge.

  I shuddered, though inside the car the air was warm. I was all too aware of Evan’s closeness beside me, but try as I might, I could not paint him with his father’s brush. I couldn’t hate him the same way. If only they looked alike, then maybe I would have an easier time hating the son, but Evan didn’t look like Victor. Neither of Victor’s children looked at all like him.

  Damn. I hadn’t wanted to consider Madison. Her very existence made it that much harder to draw hatred from blood ties.

  “Are you okay?” Evan asked after I’d had some time to brood.

  “You could have warned me,” I said.

  “And give you time to let someone know where you were going?” Evan shook his head. “I don’t want anyone to follow us.”

  “What are you going to do with me after we’ve finished the conversation? Or were you planning to blindfold me on the way up?”

  “I thought about blindfolding you, but I bet you could count and feel your way to the location.”

  I probably could have. It was nice to have someone recognize and appreciate my skill.

  “As for after. Well, you’re moving back in with me for a while. You and Madison both, although she doesn’t know it yet. I won’t allow that loophole to get through my defenses again.”

  “Are you going to follow her to work or something?” I asked.

  “I’ve got something in mind.”

  I let the subject drop for the moment. Staying with him simply wouldn’t work, but I knew better than to argue when he had that look on his face. Something would come up, but in the meantime, I had a dreaded interview to get through.

  Or so I thought. We were barely halfway there when my cell phone jingled a familiar ring tone, and when I answered, I actually found myself hoping for a reprieve.

  “Kaitlin?” I said without preamble. “Is it time?”

  “My water broke. Madison’s driving me to the hospital. Can you meet us there?”

  I didn’t even try to hide the surge of relief that flowed through me at the news that my friend suddenly needed me. “Give me ten minutes.”

  * * *

  Evan didn’t hesitate to turn his car around and head back into town, but he also made it clear that he would remain in the hospital waiting room in case I needed him. I couldn’t imagine what I would need him for, but I didn’t argue with his overprotective attitude. By now I knew it was a part of him that would never go away; besides, I had more pressing concerns when it came to Evan. Such as his determination that the wager was already won. It was one thing to say it to me, to tell me that I would be his, but to say it to someone else…. Cocky or confident? Or did it matter?

  By the time I arrived, Kaitlin was settled into a cozy private room. Someone had obviously made an effort to make the room look homey, complete with a giant wooden armoire, a pink rocking chair, floral wallpaper, and a lime green sofa that become a bed if needed. An attached bathroom contained a soaking tub with massaging jets.

  “This is nicer than I expected,” I said as I set my purse down on the floor near Kaitlin’s bags.

  “That’s what I tried to tell your mom, but she would never believe me.” Kaitlin lay comfortably in a standard hospital bed with rails and call buttons. She looked far too relaxed for a woman in labor.

  “How bad are the contractions?” I asked.

  “There aren’t any.”

  “But you said your water broke.”

  Kaitlin shrugged. “I know. I’m waiting for the doctor. The nurses won’t say anything.”

  Madison sat in the rocking chair, flipping through channels on the small TV set in the armoire. “Not much on in the morning, is there?”

  “News and game shows, mostly,” Kaitlin said.

  “Was the water clear?” I asked, struggling to remember half the information Linda Eagle liked to volunteer about childbirth, usually unasked.

  “Yeah. I remembered to check.” Kaitlin shrugged. “You may as well sit and relax with us. There’s not much to do right now.”

  Relax? I was supposed to be holding her hand and helping her breathe… or something that would take my mind off my own worries. But there really didn’t seem to be much to do so I plopped down on the sofa and zoned out, my eyes fixed on an infomercial about an exciting new exercise system that promised to give every man a six pack and every woman the appearance of a professional tummy tuck.

  “Oh!” Kaitlin said suddenly.

  I stood, rushing to her bedside. A line on a nearby monitor shot up as Kaitlin clutched her abdomen, then gradually, the two eased together.

  “Was that a contraction?” Kaitlin asked.

  “Shouldn’t you know?” Madison asked.

  Just then the door opened and a gray-haired man in blue scrubs and a white lab coat strode into the room. He sized up the three of us briefly before letting his eyes come to rest on Kaitlin. “Hi, how are you doing?”

  “Okay,” Kaitlin said. “I think I had a contraction.”

  “That’s good. You’re just over forty weeks, so I think if we just give it a few hours, labor will start on its own. If it doesn’t, we’ll start a Pitocin drip. In the meantime move around, walk up and down the hall. Sometimes that helps get things going.”

  Kaitlin nodded. Dr. Williams did a quick exam, determined that she was dilated to not quite two centimeters, and left, saying he’d be back in a few hours unless things started to move.

  About that time, Kaitlin had another contraction. They didn’t seem to be hitting her hard yet, so I backed off and let her get through it on her own.

  “This sucks,” Kaitlin said. “I can’t even get my epidural until five centimeters. I thought things would go faster.”

  “You’re already in that much pain?” I asked.

  “No, just kind of bored, actually. Let’s go for that walk.”

  For the next three hours, Madison and I took turns walking Kaitlin around the maternity ward. She kept grumbling about how long it took, but I knew the early stages of labor could take many hours. My mom rarely stopped doing her normal household activities until the contractions started coming every few minutes.

  During that time, I kept an eye on Madison as well. She maintained a brave face most of the time, but every once in a while her mask would slip, and I could se
e the pain underneath. She’d lost a baby yesterday, and today she was helping a friend with a healthy delivery. She didn’t show it though, except for the occasional brightness in her eyes, or indirectly during her frequent trips to the bathroom. She’d still be bleeding fairy heavily, and was probably in quite a bit of pain herself. I still couldn’t believe she’d gone into work that morning.

  Kaitlin’s contractions started to hit her hard around the time the sun went down so we stopped walking; but when the nurse told her she was still only at three centimeters, I thought she would cry. The nurse brought in a great big exercise ball and showed her a few positions that were supposed to help her get through the contractions, but Kaitlin didn’t seem convinced by the process.

  “I just need a distraction,” Kaitlin said. “It’s too early for primetime TV, so just start talking.”

  “What should we talk about?” Madison asked.

  “Anything!” Kaitlin started to breathe through another contraction. “Something to stop me thinking about me. Cassie, talk about your family or Madison….” Kaitlin trailed off, but not for long. “How are you doing, anyway?”

  Madison’s eyes started to glisten with extra moisture, so I stepped in. “Did anyone think to bring a deck of cards?” I asked.

  “I did.” Madison sounded relieved for the distraction as she began rummaging through her purse. Within a few minutes, we had a game of rummy going, frequently interrupted by increasingly intense contractions.

  * * *

  Kaitlin’s mom stopped by around eight o’clock. Since the ward only allowed two visitors at a time, Madison and I both decided to give mother and daughter some time together. Kaitlin, at odds with her mom over so many aspects of child rearing, hadn’t wanted her mother present at the delivery, but I thought Mrs. Meyer’s feelings had gotten hurt by the decision.

  Madison and I grabbed some dinner in the hospital cafeteria, managing to slip through just before they closed down for the night. When we finished, I volunteered to take our trays to the tray return while Madison went upstairs to check on Kaitlin.

  I had just set the trays in the return when I sensed a new presence behind me. I felt chilled even before I turned to face the newcomer, and when I did, I felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath my feet.

  I recognized him from his wanted posters. In person Xavier looked as nondescript, even harmless, as he did on his wanted posters, thanks largely to his cherubic face. Only now his eyes were yellow and feral. They were the eyes of a hunter, and they told me quite plainly that if I lived through this encounter, it would be at his sufferance.

  My fingers flew to the cross around my neck. After running into Jason the month before, I was taking no chances. I routinely carried around holy water, and I never left home without the cross. I hoped they would be enough, but couldn’t believe it. Surely, the seven vampire hunters who had cornered him had also carried crosses and holy water?

  “That won’t save you,” he said, gesturing at my cross.

  Faith. Have faith. “You can’t touch it.”

  He took a step closer. I tried to step back, but I ran into the tray return. His eyes bore into mine, and in my mind I could hear the seductive song of the vampire urging me to his will. The song had no words, but resonated within me. Within my soul. I’d felt it once before, briefly, before turning my eyes away, but this time it was harder. He was stronger. Then again, so was I.

  “No!” I managed to tear my eyes away, feeling gratitude toward all my would-be suitors for the first time.

  “So strong. The rumors suggest otherwise.”

  “I’ve had practice.”

  “I see.” He stepped forward, so close I could feel his breath on my cheek. Then, ever so gently, he ran his finger along the center of my throat, starting just under my chin, and ending at the cross pendant, which he lifted gently.

  “How are you touching that?” I asked. It had to work. Faith magic always worked.

  “A magician never reveals his secrets.” Xavier let the cross fall. “I’ve come to issue a warning.”

  “You have a lot of nerve.” I tried to sound brave, but inside every cell in my body trembled. I still had the crystal. Could Evan sense my distress?

  “Oh?”

  “Eagle Rock is full of sorcerers. They’ll track you down if you hurt me.”

  He laughed, a sound that reverberated painfully within my bones. “Child, I’m not afraid of your family. I’ve killed many powerful people before, and I’ll do it again if I have to.”

  Not wanting to dwell on death, I lashed out against a minor irritation. “I’m not a child.”

  He chucked me under the chin, as if to prove me wrong. “Better I call you child than dinner, don’t you think?”

  I swallowed, trying to find more of that inner bravado.

  “I don’t intend to hurt you as long as you stay away from my protégé.”

  “Jason?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s not a vampire. I saw him. I talked to him.”

  “Yet,” Xavier said. “He’s not a vampire yet. He will be soon. It really is the only way.”

  “To save him from his father?” I asked.

  Xavier forced my face upward to look into his eyes. “What do you know about that?”

  Not much, but I intended to pretend I knew more. “Enough. The man’s a monster, and Jason needs help taking him down.”

  “Oh, I intend to help him.” Oddly enough, I believed Xavier on that point. “Don’t go thinking there’s anything you can do, child. My brother is way out of your league.”

  His brother? I tried not to let my surprise show. Xavier was over two hundred years old, so how could Jason’s father be his brother? Then my mind remembered another recent snippet of conversation, something Nicolas had said about our father. His rejuvenating potions are only skin deep for a reason, and it’s not because he didn’t know how to achieve true immortality.

  “He didn’t tell you that part, did he?” Xavier said. “Jason is still hoping for a miracle, but it won’t come.”

  “If that’s true, then why warn me off?”

  His eyes darkened, and he bared his fangs. “Because if you encourage him he’ll make the wrong choice, and he’ll die.”

  Better dead than a vampire, I thought, but before I had a chance to say so, my white knight rushed onto the scene. Only, I didn’t want him there. For some reason Xavier didn’t seem inclined to kill me, but if Evan attacked, I couldn’t be as sure about him.

  20

  A NONE-TOO-GENTLE WIND BEGAN TO STIR THE air of the cafeteria, whipping my hair around my face. Evan was not happy, and he wanted Xavier to know it.

  “Get away from her,” Evan said.

  Xavier turned slightly, so he could see both of us at the same time. He didn’t look the least bit afraid of Evan, which from anyone else would have been sheer stupidity. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same for him.

  “Remember my warning.” Xavier’s eyes were fixed on Evan, though he spoke to me. “I won’t give it again.” Then, with a blur of motion too rapid for the naked eye, he was gone.

  With the immediate danger gone, I allowed my body to give into the overwhelming sense of fear and shock. My knees gave out, and I started to sink to the ground, but Evan caught me before I could make it there.

  “Shh. I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

  I didn’t see how. Evan couldn’t protect me from everything. “He could have killed you.”

  “I know.”

  I stiffened, surprised by the admission. He always gave the impression that he thought he could handle anything.

  “What was his warning?” Evan asked.

  “To stay away from Jason.” Briefly, I told him about the time I’d seen–the day he’d interrupted us before Jason could tell me the whole story.

  “Jason saved my life last summer,” Evan said. “I knew he wasn’t a vampire then, but things can change. I’m glad to hear he’s still hanging on.”

  “I want to hel
p him, but I don’t know how. I still don’t even quite understand what’s going on. Xavier said something… he said Jason’s father was his brother, but Xavier’s over two hundred years old. How is that possible?”

  Evan looked away.

  “Nicolas said there were ways,” I began. “You know them too. Or your father does.”

  “You don’t want to know, Cassie. There are some things you truly don’t want to know.”

  “I know.” I shuddered. “But I have to help Jason if I can.”

  “I know. It’s who you are. It’s part of what I love about you.”

  Evan’s arms around me suddenly felt confining, and I backed away. He let me go without complaint.

  “I have to go,” I said. “Kaitlin needs me, too.”

  * * *

  Kaitlin and her mom ended up spending so much time arguing over the best method of pain relief that Kaitlin missed her window of opportunity and had to forgo the epidural. By the time I returned to her side, Kaitlin was screaming about never having sex again, and she looked ready to strangle her mom.

  “Oh, thank God!” Madison hadn’t been far from the door, and when she spotted me, she pushed her way through. “Only two visitors allowed. Guess I’ll go wait downstairs. Good luck.”

  Before I had a chance to protest, Madison had gone, leaving me alone with a woman who was arguing when she needed to be relaxing.

  One of the nurses tried to intervene between the two, urging Kaitlin to relax, take deep breaths, and get ready to push, but she clearly didn’t know how to get between a mother and daughter. Luckily, I did.

  “Out!” I said to Mrs. Meyer.

  Kaitlin and her mother both gaped at me.

  “You heard me,” I said to the older woman. “You’re upsetting her. I don’t care who’s right and who’s wrong at this point.”

  “But–” Mrs. Meyer began.

  I softened my voice ever so slightly. “I’ll let you know as soon as the baby is born.”

  She nodded once, squeezed Kaitlin’s hand, and left.

  Kaitlin let out a cry of pain.

  “Breathe.” I took her hand and let her squeeze so hard it hurt, then talked her through a few Lamaze exercises.