He came back over to me, and took my hands. This time, he helped me stand up. He gazed into my eyes. “You think you’ll be okay if I go out for a few hours?”
“I guess so,” I said.
“If you don’t want me to go, I’ll stay,” he said.
I considered telling him to do exactly that. Maybe I should order him to stop being so cryptic and to level with me. But instead, I only said, “I’ll be okay. You do what you need to do.”
“You sure? After what Ophelia said about finishing everything?” He gestured around the room. “We’re done.”
“For the last time, I’m not going into labor anytime soon.”
“Right.” He nodded.
“Besides, wherever it is you’re going, you’ll have your cell phone, right?” I said. “It’s not like last time where your battery was dead.”
He tugged his phone out and checked the screen. “Ninety-four percent battery,” he said, turning it to show it to me.
“Well, if anything happens, I’ll call you,” I said.
“Okay,” he said. “That works.”
I hugged him. “Be careful.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I’m not leaving right this instant.”
I still clung to him. I wasn’t sure that I wanted him to leave at all.
CHAPTER THIRTY
~Lachlan~
Lachlan kept second-guessing himself. Why was it so important that he hide this from Penny? After all, he’d been on the verge of telling her everything a short time ago.
He had originally kept it all to himself because he didn’t want to get her hopes up if it was all going to come to nothing. He didn’t see any reason to tell her that he might find some answers and then come up empty. No, he’d thought, better to keep her out of the loop. That way, she could never be disappointed.
But now, what did it matter?
She knew there was something to know. She knew there was a reason he was leaving. She wanted to ask him about it, too, he could see that. She kept taking a deep breath, starting to say something to him, and then breaking off, saying nothing.
I should tell her, Lachlan said to himself.
But he didn’t. He kept it in, because he didn’t even know how to talk about it anymore. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to be asking for from Bartholomew Collins. Assuming the vampire was old enough to remember such things, if he had never heard of these children of the deep, of this court of the Green King, then it meant nothing anyway. Just because he hadn’t heard of them wouldn’t mean they didn’t exist.
No, Lachlan realized, the only true thing that Collins could do for him was confirm the existence of the children of the deep. He could only confirm there was some prophesy of a blood dragon, confirm that the fate of Lachlan’s tiny son was, in fact, sealed.
So, he didn’t tell Penny what was he was doing, because he wasn’t sure what news he could bring her except the bad kind. If he was successful, they would have to face the horrible truth. He didn’t want to have to do that.
He held onto her for a long time when he said goodbye, held onto both of them. It all seemed so fragile, but then it always did, at least these days it did. Everything he loved could be taken from him more easily than he wanted to admit to himself. He was probably crazy to leave her alone here.
Why was he going off to seek out the truth? Why not stay here and remain ignorant? Rub her back while they watched TV, wrap his body around hers in bed, try to force himself so close that they ran into each other, like wet paint. Maybe then he’d stop worrying about losing her. Maybe then, he’d be sure that she was safe, because they’d be part of each other somehow, and it wouldn’t matter.
That wasn’t possible.
And he left anyway.
It was bitterly cold outside. An icy wind was whipping off the ocean. It cut through his clothing, made it hard to breathe.
As he started the car, he thought to himself that it would be quite ironic if he’d spent all this time worrying over the confirmation of these dark matters, and he didn’t even find Collins after all. Or if he arrived, and Collins knew absolutely nothing about what he was talking about.
But if anyone knew about things so old and ancient, it would be Collins.
He pulled the car out of the parking space, and drove through the darkness to Atlantic Avenue. The wind was blowing so hard that he could feel the resistance as he drove, even though he wasn’t going that fast.
He tried to speed up, but the wind seemed to be driving him back. It made the stop lights dance frantically as he drove through the green lights.
Lachlan wondered if it was going to storm. They hadn’t had much snow this February, and from what he heard, that was the month when it really tended to let loose. He knew that he and Penny had talked about it, had talked about what they’d do if she got snowed in when she was going into labor.
There were so many things to worry about. So much was tenuous. Her safety, the baby’s safety, their collective future, all held by fragile threads. He didn’t like it.
He drove up the coast, to the north, following the directions that the guitarist had given him. Finally, he reached the place where Collins had met the guitarist.
It didn’t look abandoned, so that was something.
The house was two stories, surrounded by wraparound porches on both floors. It was lit up with blue Christmas lights, and there were strands of them wrapped around a fenced walkway to the beach.
Lachlan parked his car and got out.
The wind blew gusts of sandy cold air at him. He shut his eyes against it, shut his mouth. But he could feel the sand penetrating his crevices anyway, going up his nose, under his collar, inside his ears.
He bend over and fought his way through the wind, walking between the blue-light covered fences to the front door of the house.
There was movement there, actually, people on the porches holding drinks. The wind blew their hair away from their faces, but they didn’t seem to mind. They were laughing and talking.
Lachlan struggled forward, and as he did, he realized there was something in the air. White spots. Snow. Snow was blowing through the air. He turned to look back at his car. He thought about going back to Penny.
He took his phone out of his pocket. Maybe he’d call her?
With the wind like this? She’d never hear a word he said. In fact, it wouldn’t do to have the phone going off in the middle of a conversation with Collins. Lachlan turned the phone off, and then put it back in his pocket.
He reached the stairs to the first level porch and began to ascend them.
A woman saw him. She was dressed like a flapper from the 1920s—shapeless dress, string of long pearls, even a headband around her short hair. A fur stole was thrown over her white skin almost as an afterthought. She was smoking a cigarette from a long, silver cigarette holder. “Well, hello there,” she said, leaning down to look at him.
“Hi,” Lachlan stepped up next to her. It was a little better here. The wind wasn’t as ferocious. But he was still cold.
The woman didn’t seem bothered at all. Her lips were painted bright red, and the contrast with her pale, pale skin was shocking. Her skin looked delicate, almost translucent.
Old vampire, Lachlan realized. This woman must be over five hundred years old.
“What’s your name?” she said, coming in close to him.
“Lachlan.” He tried to pull away from her.
But she caught him by the collar of his jacket and tugged him close. She ran her nose against his throat, smelling him. “Vampire,” she whispered. She released him.
Lachlan had an urge to wipe himself where she’d touched him. He squelched it. What was she smelling? He couldn’t smell any difference between people and vampires. Was that something he’d be able to do if he grew old like her?
She took a drag on her cigarette and turned away, apparently bored with him now.
“Is Bartholomew Collins here?” Lachlan asked.
She didn’t turn around. “You want
to see Collins?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Whatever for?” She started to walk away, into the brisk wind.
Lachlan went after her, yelling over the howling air. “I need to ask him about something.”
The woman shot a smiling glance over her shoulder. “Collins always likes making deals.”
That was right. The guitarist had said something like that. But Lachlan didn’t have anything to offer. He couldn’t give the older vampire blood. Should Lachlan have brought something else? Money?
“I might like to watch,” she said. “I’ll take you to him.” She flitted between people on the porch and then pushed open a glass door.
Warm air hit Lachlan’s face as he walked inside. The bottom floor seemed to be one large, open room. Several couches flanked a large television screen to his left. To his right, there was a lounge chair sitting around a fluffy white throw rug. The furnishings were very modern—bright, bold colors, sparse. Directly ahead of Lachlan was a pool table. A man wearing a fedora and a gray suit bent over it.
Was this a costume party? Lachlan wondered. Now that he noticed it, everyone seemed to be dressed like it was the 1920s. It was as if Lachlan had stepped back in time to a speakeasy, or as if he’d been transported into one of Jay Gatsby’s fictional parties.
“Oh, Bart,” called the woman Lachlan had been following. “Yoo-hoo.”
The fedora-wearing man straightened and turned from the pool table. He pointed his cue stick at the woman. “What is it, Mischa?”
Mischa gestured to Lachlan. “Found you a stray wandering around. He was asking after you.”
So, this was Collins.
Lachlan locked eyes with the ancient vampire. He was shorter than Lachlan had expected. He had a long, crooked nose and deep blue eyes. His skin was very white, like Mischa’s. But there was nothing about him that screamed out his age. He didn’t look decrepit, like a mummified corpse. He didn’t look monstrous at all. He appeared like a harmless uncle. There was even a twinkle in his eye as he smiled.
“Looking for me?” said Collins. “Do I know you? Do we have an arrangement?”
“No,” said Lachlan. “I came because I was hoping, that is, I thought perhaps you’d allow me to ask you for…” He felt tongue-tied. Why hadn’t he practiced what he would say to Collins? He was tripping over his words like an idiot.
“You want something from me,” said Collins. “Everyone wants something. But I’ll only give it to you if I can have something in return.”
“I didn’t bring anything,” said Lachlan. “But I have—”
“He’s a vampire,” Mischa spoke up.
Collins smile widened. “Really. What is it you want from me?”
“I’m looking for information. I’ve been looking all over for it, and I was told that you might know something about it, that you are one of the oldest, wisest—”
“Skip the flattery. Spit it out,” said Collins. “What do seek information about?”
Lachlan licked his lips. “The court of the Green King,” he said in a low voice.
Collins’s response was immediate and violent. He thrust out his hand, and Lachlan found himself hanging three feet off the ground, dangling there by Collins’s magic, which was quite strong. Collins made a gesture.
Lachlan was hurled through the air, heading directly towards the door.
At the last second, before impact, the door was flung open by an unseen force.
And then Lachlan was dangling in the air over the porch.
Collins was there too. He lowered Lachlan to face the ancient vampire. Collins slammed the door behind them. They were quite alone.
“Who said I would know about that?” Collins demanded.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I sprawled out on the couch, my feet propped up on an ottoman, staring at the TV. Geez. Maybe Lachlan and I had worked a little too hard today on the nursery and stuff. I needed to remember that I was too pregnant to act like a regular person.
I felt sore. And my abdomen was angry with me, throbbing as I lay there.
Wait a second.
I sat up. Those throbs. They weren’t… contractions?
I tried to remember what the contractions had felt like when I’d been induced before. They hadn’t quite felt like this, had they? They’d been stronger, for one thing, and more frequent, and…
Ugh.
Honestly, though, these couldn’t be contractions. I’d read all about how first-time mothers were always thinking they were in labor when they weren’t. I didn’t want to be one of those women. I figured that it would be super, super obvious if I was in labor. And this wasn’t obvious. These were really … twinges.
I knew what they were. They were Braxton Hicks. Practice contractions. They weren’t even real. They were starting to happen now because I was so close to having the baby.
But I wasn’t going to go into labor for weeks.
I sighed.
I focused on the television screen.
Those twinges were kind of distracting.
I turned the TV up.
I watched the rest of the television episode, and then I decided I’d go back to the bedroom and maybe watch some more TV.
The twinges were still happening. I sat down and tried to time them. They seemed to be coming kind of frequently, but what did I know? They still didn’t hurt much, and I remembered that the contractions when I’d been induced had hurt a lot. Of course, I’d been told that the induced contractions were more intense than natural ones. I asked my doctor about it, though, and he said that didn’t make any sense, because it was all the same hormone causing them.
Whatever.
Point was, this didn’t hurt. I was fine.
They were sort of… annoying.
I considered calling Lachlan. Maybe he’d talk me down, tell me that everything was okay. But then I realized he would probably get worried and come home, and whatever he was doing, he’d acted like it was important, so maybe it was better if I left him alone.
I went back to the bedroom, put on my pajamas, got into bed, and watched another episode of the television show.
After that, it was late, so I switched off the TV and tried to go to sleep.
I couldn’t get comfortable. The twinges were really, really distracting. Every time I thought I was starting to get close to going to sleep, I got another one.
Were they getting more intense?
I really couldn’t tell.
I sat up in bed. It was time to face the facts. I was in early labor. I’d been to the classes, and this was what was going on. Now, I knew that early labor could go on for hours and hours and hours, so it wasn’t as if I needed to rush to the hospital now or anything.
Still, I didn’t particularly want to go through it alone. I went and got my phone and dialed Lachlan.
It went straight to voicemail.
What?
I tried again.
Goddamn it, did he have his phone off? What the hell?
I glared at the phone. Then, angry, I fired off a text. Turn on your phone, Lachlan. I’m in labor.
Ass.
* * *
~Lachlan~
Lachlan shivered in the cold. “I can’t remember exactly who it was that told me about you,” he said. “I was asking all over. Your name came up. More than once. I immediately focused on finding you.”
“The Green King? He is not spoken of,” said Collins, turning to grip the railing of the porch and to stare out at the snow swirling over the crashing waves. “To speak of all of that is to tempt fate, to wake them from their slumber.”
“So, they’re real,” said Lachlan, his heart settling like stone in his gut.
“Real, yes, but asleep,” said Collins. “And not to be spoken of. Who told you of them?”
“Olsen Hunter,” said Lachlan, figuring that the mage could handle himself if Collins chose to retaliate.
Collins shrugged. “I don’t know who that is.”
“Does it matte
r?” said Lachlan.
“What do you want to know about them?”
“Whatever there is to know,” said Lachlan.
Collins turned to look at him. “Why?”
“I’ve been told that my son is meant to beat them back, that he is—”
“Your son?” And Collins was instantly next to him, though Lachlan hadn’t seen the ancient vampire move. Collins was smelling him, the same way that Mischa had done. “Yes, you are a vampire. She was right. But a bonded one. You have a dragon tethered to you, yes?”
Lachlan squared his shoulders. “Is that any of your concern?” The wind was battering him with snow—tiny icy pricks against his cheeks and forehead.
Collins raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you think to protect her. Your blood bond is shriveled and atrophied inside you. I can smell its hunger. And yet you think you have some kind of chance against me?”
“I’m the one who’s here,” said Lachlan. “Not her.”
“Bonded to a dragon. And a son? A son with the dragon?”
“Yes,” said Lachlan.
“So, it has happened at last.” Collins took a step backwards, and something passed in front of his eyes, something very like fear. He looked back out at the ocean. “They are coming back. After all this time, they are coming.”
“What are they?” said Lachlan.
Collins laughed wildly. “You should have asked that before you set all this in motion, boy.”
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” said Lachlan. “I didn’t ask for this.”
“Oh, as if that’s going to save you,” said Collins. “Tell that to the children, when they press their dark hands into your mouth. Try to get them to listen. You will die sputtering and trying to scream no matter what you knew.”
“They live in the water,” said Lachlan. “They’re some kind of monsters?”
“They are nightmares made real,” said Collins. “I remember… it was so long ago, but I remember them. I remember the screams.”
“I don’t understand,” said Lachlan. “If they’re so awful, what happened to them? Were they beaten back? Killed? Why would they return?”
Collins took a long, slow breath. “So, this is why you come to me. For answers to these questions.”
Fire Born (City of Dragons Book 5) Page 21