by Kristie Cook
Now, he'd missed the birth of his babies. How much more would he miss? Nobody knew. As far as I knew, we'd heard nothing since his disappearance, though I lay in bed withdrawn into myself, just trying to stay healthy enough for the babies' survival while my world fell apart around me. But if anyone knew anything, they didn't tell me. Tears leaked from my eyes.
"What about my daughter?" I whispered. "I haven't even met her yet."
Mom moved from her chair to sit on the side of my bed. She took my hand in hers. Her expression was bleak.
"Honey," she said, her voice rough and thick. Something was wrong. "Honey…you don't have a daughter."
I stared at her, uncomprehending. "Of course, I do. We have to have a daughter."
All Amadis daughters had baby girls. We didn't even accept a male sperm unless a female embryo was already formed. This much I had learned. A girl was needed for the future of the Amadis. How could I not have a daughter? Mom and Rina had both sensed a girl in the womb.
Mom shook her head slowly. A tear trickled down her cheek. "I'm sorry, honey. We were wrong. For some reason we don't know right now…you just didn't have one."
I swallowed hard. "No daughter? What happens to the Amadis now?"
Mom shook her head slowly. Her words came out so quietly, I barely heard her. "We don't know."
"Is there any hope at all? Can I still have a girl? I mean, when Tristan comes back?"
"No Amadis daughter has been pregnant more than once." The corner of Mom's mouth lifted in a half-grimace-half-smile. "But that's what we hope for. After all, you are unique."
Obviously. Always different. Never normal, not even with the weird stuff.
"Right now, you have this beautiful little babe," Rina said, entering the room with Dorian cradled in her arms.
I hadn't really seen her since shortly after that fateful day. She had to return home to attend to business as matriarch of the Amadis. By the time she arrived for the birth, I was deep in labor and barely aware of her presence.
Rina looked at me now and smiled, but despite how hard she tried to hide it, I saw the sadness and disappointment in her eyes. She placed Dorian in my arms and left the room. Guilt overcame me. I really screwed up. Why do I have to be so messed up? Though I had no control of it, it was my fault the Amadis would collapse.
I looked down at the precious bundle in my arms. His hair was dry and fluffy now. He didn't have much of it, but what was there was a shocking light blond, almost white. I could see his dad in his features already. He opened his eyes and I was surprised they already changed colors. They were no longer newborn-blue. They had wide, emerald-green rings on the outside of the irises and brown around the pupils. And yes, tiny gold flecks that sparkled.
Tears streamed down my face, happy and sad tears mixed together. Dorian was the greatest gift I'd ever received from Tristan and from God. He was a little bit of his father I could finally hold again. I felt so blessed to have him, but the despair of no daughter weighed heavily. As did Tristan's absence.
Nearly two years ago, I thought I knew what I wanted: a career as a writer, a family, true love and an explanation of the quirks that made me weird. Now I was about to become a published author, my first book due out in six months. I didn't yet have a full explanation of who I really was, but I knew I would one day lead the Angels' army, fighting real-life demons, though I was half-Daemoni myself. But, without another daughter, the Amadis would end when I did.
Only two things mattered now: family and true love. I was a mother now, a single-mother in most ways, but I refused to believe I was a widow. Nobody knew if my true love was dead or alive, but I knew. I could still feel him. I knew he would return to me. He promised. I had to hold onto that promise and to Dorian. Otherwise, I could feel an abyss not far away—a darkness I could easily slip into, letting the evil blood within my veins consume me if I wasn't careful.
Dorian started crying and I held him against my chest, sobbing with him. His tiny hand flailed, then latched onto my pendant. He quieted immediately. I wrapped my own hand around his to keep him from yanking on it. Warmth radiated from the pendant, through Dorian's hand and into mine.
"That's our link to Daddy, Dorian," I whispered against his cheek. "He can't be here, but he'll be back soon. Right now, you be my light, okay? Keep me out of the darkness."
His little fingers released the pendant and grasped my finger. And I swore I felt a squeeze of affirmation. A second promise to hold onto…but not all promises can be kept.
About the Author
Kristie Cook is a lifelong writer in various genres, from marketing communications to fantasy fiction. Besides writing, she enjoys reading, cooking, traveling and riding on the back of a motorcycle. She has lived in ten states, but currently calls Southwest Florida home with her husband, three teenage sons, a beagle and a puggle. She can be found at www.KristieCook.com.
For information on the next installment of the Soul Savers series, visit www.IHavePurpose.com
Table of Contents
Promise