Eve stood, and he noticed the rounding of her belly. Pregnant again. He had seen her give birth well into her fifth decade before, though she could not be much older than thirty now, and her husband seemed to take good care of her. Provided well for her.
A little girl ran into the room shouting for her attention, and Eve laughed and swept her into her arms, lifting her up and kissing her cheek. The little girl could only be Eve’s daughter, and she reached for the loom. Eve sat down with the child in her lap and guided her fingers, showing her how to weave the threads, patiently.
The sound of male voices carried into the room, interrupting them, and Eve set her daughter back on her feet, sending her running back out of the room to greet her father and brother. From where he was standing, Thor could see the angel-man kneel and catch her, tossing the little girl into the air. Eve followed more sedately, and her husband, Joseph, looked on her with love. His hand touching her stomach briefly, reverently.
Gabriel, or Jesus, as Eve called him now, kissed his mother’s cheek, still holding his little sister in his arms.
The contrast between this young man, and the one Thor had met on the road was astounding. Gabriel’s eyes were kind and patient. How much of that disposition was due to Eve’s mothering, even for so short a time? Certainly she seemed to have a loving household. A joyful household. If Michael had been chosen as the prophet to be born, would he have benefitted in the same way?
Thor crept around the house to the next window, following Eve as she moved and staying in the shadows where he could. She went to the hearth, uncovering loaves of bread to bring to the table. There was another girl, there, stirring a pot. Another daughter? And another boy came running in from the workshop.
It seemed to be some kind of occasion, and Thor barely had time to slip out of sight as a young man not much older than Jesus arrived at the house. He did not have the look of either Eve, or Joseph, and Thor didn’t think he was another child, but Joseph clasped hands with him, and welcomed him to the table. Jesus broke the bread, sharing it with his siblings and their guest, while his sister served bowls of some kind of stew and Eve poured wine cut with water for everyone.
After they were served, and before anyone ate, Eve took the hands of those on either side of her, and the family bowed their heads while Joseph said a prayer of thanks, offered to the True God. Eve’s God.
Gabriel alone did not close his eyes, and it was in that moment he looked up directly at Thor. He barely nodded, smiling reassurance, his expression knowing and understanding.
Your time comes, Odin-son.
Thor stared, feeling almost as if he couldn’t bring himself to move. My time for what?
She’ll know you, Thor. You’ll have her love again. Go on as you’ve begun.
He shook his head. I don’t understand.
The angel, the man, the prophet, smiled again. God doesn’t forget what he owes you, Son of the Earth. Son of Jörd. Did you never wonder what drew you here?
More riddles. Do angels never speak plainly?
Gabriel twitched one shoulder. Not enough to draw the attention of any of the others. Some secrets are meant to be kept. We offer you enough to cause you to wonder. To cause you to ask the questions you are meant to ask. It is God’s greatest gift to his children, curiosity and even doubt. Free will to choose your fate, to choose your path. Free will to choose love.
And then the prayer was ended. Gabriel turned to smile on his mother, and though Thor waited, he offered him no further explanation.
He did not linger for many more days, for fear of drawing Sif’s attention, but the life Eve seemed to be living brought him peace, and he thought perhaps with the angel at her side as her son, she would be safe. For a time, at least.
He left Syria for the House of Lions, to give them the truth of what he had learned. Jesus was not a true prophet, in the way they believed, but he still spoke with the True God’s voice as his angel, and as Eve’s son. Humanity could do much worse than to listen.
Chapter Thirty-seven: Present
It was getting close, Eve decided, as she tried to ignore the twinge of what seemed like false labor. She closed her eyes and swallowed against the discomfort. If she could just get through tonight and tomorrow, she could have her baby in peace without Adam or Mia or her parents. The front sitting room was her latest retreat, and fewer people thought to look for her there when she had established herself so firmly in the library. But that afternoon, her father had joined her with his drinks and his bluster and his rattling snores, and she couldn’t find a comfortable position in her seat, to save her life.
Not that there was much pain, yet. And the spasm in her back, combined with the ever so slight ripple of contraction across her stomach didn’t feel like the real thing. But it had been a long time since her last child, and she didn’t like the waiting. With everything else, it just seemed like an extra set of anxieties she didn’t need.
She would be happy when the baby finally came and she could be comfortable again, even if it meant sleepless nights. Though she did have the advantage there. She would always know what the baby needed when it cried. It amazed her how other women managed to raise their children without the advantage of telepathy. Every time she became a mother, she was reminded of how precious and powerful that gift was. But even with it, she was still so baffled by the choices people made, the things that people did; how much more difficult was it for everyone else, who didn’t have her advantage?
A car door slammed outside and Eve frowned. As far as she knew, they weren’t expecting anyone, coming or going. She ignored another twinge and moved to the window, looking out at the drive. Adam was loading a suitcase into the trunk while Mia watched, pouting.
Eve frowned. Leaving?
Adam stiffened, but didn’t look back. A happy surprise, I’m sure, for your DeLeon family.
I don’t understand. She could see him speaking to Mia, but couldn’t hear the words. Mia’s forehead furrowed, her expression crumpling.
I thought you would be relieved. He slammed the trunk of the car and crossed to Mia, placing his hands on her shoulders and kissing her forehead. Mia seemed to relax, though she was still scowling. He touched her cheek and brushed her hair back behind her ear. Eve pressed her lips together into a thin line as she caught the conversation from his mind.
“I’m sorry, Mia. I don’t mean to ruin your holiday. Stay. Enjoy the time with your sister.”
“I hate that you’re leaving me. You’ve never had to cut anything short because of work before. Why now? Tomorrow is Christmas! Just stay one more day, then you can go and I won’t even argue.”
He laughed and pulled her into a hug. Eve even felt his affection for her and the way Mia softened in his arms. He spoke into her hair. “If I could stay, I would. When you get home, we’ll have another holiday of our own. We’ll go pick out your car, if you like.”
“Promise?”
“Yes. Of course.” He let go of her then, tilting her face up to his and kissing her. “Give your family my regrets, would you?”
Mia pouted again. “Are you sure you can’t stay? Just one more day?”
You don’t actually have to work, do you? Eve asked.
It’s better if I go. He held Mia again, hiding his face in her hair.
Eve shook her head. She’s your wife, Adam. And it’s your first Christmas. You should be together. It isn’t right for you to go—
Enough, Eve. The sharpness of his reply surprised her, and she was sure he felt it because when he continued his tone had softened. Please. Just let me go. I’ll make it up to her.
The anguish in his thoughts made her flinch, and she withdrew from his mind. She didn’t hear what Mia said after that, or what he said in reply. But she saw him set her away and walk to the car.
He looked at Eve, their eyes meeting through the glass. His expression was unreadable. She winced at another pang in her stomach. He got in the car, waving to Mia, and then pulled away.
Poor Mia. She l
ooked as though she was going to cry, watching the car disappear. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong, just this once…
She found her mother’s thoughts in the bedroom, suggesting gently that she should look for her daughter. It was only a few moments until Anne Watson came out of the manor and Mia all but tripped into her arms.
Eve turned away from the window, and sat back down with her book. Her father still snored in the armchair in the corner, oblivious to everything that had happened. Oblivious to his daughter crying outside in his wife’s arms. Eve envied him. She sighed and reached for her brother. If he was leaving Mia this way, really leaving her, she would never forgive him. He had promised he wouldn’t hurt her. He had married her. That wasn’t something he could turn his back on. Mia loved him.
His mind was a maelstrom of regret and sorrow. And something else. Something which distressed him more than anything else. She felt him bury it beneath all the other emotions. Walling it with anger and pain.
Adam?
His mind stilled, abruptly blank. Give my regards to your husband.
Adam, I don’t understand.
I had to leave. It’s for the best.
The day before Christmas? With some specious excuse about work?
Kinder than the truth, in this instance. Don’t worry, Eve. Your sister is resilient. She’ll forgive me.
Why?
Why didn’t you tell Garrit you could reach me this way? Why didn’t you tell him you spoke to me directly about that journal, to remind me to return it?
She tried not to let her frustration show, but he chuckled in the back of her mind all the same.
It didn’t seem important. He knows I can feel you. Sense you.
You didn’t tell him because you knew he’d resent it.
What does that have to do with Mia?
It’s none of your business, Eve.
She’s my sister! You gave me your word you wouldn’t hurt her.
And I haven’t.
She’s crying in my mother’s arms!
Adam sighed, losing some of his control. And suddenly she felt what he had been trying to hide, heat and sorrow filled her body. So strong it overwhelmed her. I didn’t know. I didn’t know she was your sister when I met her.
She tried to withdraw, to filter it out, but his mind held hers fast, and he wouldn’t let her go. So much heartbreak, like an ache in her soul, a knife cutting through her heart. And then the pain dropped, shifting lower.
My Eve, he said, my love.
She must’ve cried out because Garrit came into the room. He was never far from her these days. “Abby?”
“No!” The baby kicked and then moved, and she felt the wetness of her water breaking. A true contraction made her double over in pain.
Adam released her immediately, and Garrit’s arms wrapped around her as she gasped from the shock. “Abby, what’s happened? What is it?”
Call the doctor, you fool. She’s having your son! Garrit spun to grab the phone, but he didn’t seem to notice that Adam’s voice had come from inside his own mind.
Thunder rolled in time with her next contraction, though the sky was blue, and Adam’s presence disappeared completely from her thoughts. She could have sworn she felt something else, hard and sharp and burning fire, but then that was gone too.
It was an easy birth, as Eve had assured him it would be. Garrit sat on the edge of the hospital bed as she cradled the baby against her chest, dry and fed and sleeping.
“He’s beautiful.”
She smiled. “He looks like a DeLeon. I expect he’ll even have your eyes when he’s grown.”
Garrit stroked her hair back from her face and stared down at the sleeping baby. “Hopefully he’ll have his mother’s grace.”
“Who needs grace when they have DeLeon charm and good looks?”
He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
The door opened and Mia peeked in, her face flushed with excitement. “Can we see, yet? Please, Abby!”
She smiled. “Quietly, please, Mia. He’s sleeping.”
Her sister closed the door as softly as possible and tiptoed across the room to peer down at the baby. “I can’t believe I’m an aunt!” She sighed. “I wish Ethan hadn’t missed this.”
Eve’s smile faded. Mia didn’t seem to notice, but Garrit did. He squeezed her hand, and she felt his reassurance. “You’ll just have to tell him about it,” she managed to say. “I’m sure he wouldn’t have gone if it weren’t important.”
Mia waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I’ll live. It just means I get one more year of ripping open my presents like a little girl before I have to pretend to be dignified about it.”
“Ethan’s too, if you like,” Garrit said.
Eve frowned at him, but Mia laughed. “Serves him right for missing Christmas. Maybe I will. You’re so lucky, Abby. I bet Garrit won’t let those stuffed shirts he works for drag him away from you now.”
“Not for anything.” He smiled. “It’s my son’s first Christmas.”
“Oh!” Mia clapped her hand over her mouth when the exclamation came out louder than anything else in the room. “Oh no! We haven’t gotten him any presents!”
“I don’t think he’ll notice,” she laughed. “He barely even registers that anything exists beyond his own nose.”
“What are you going to name him, Abby?”
She looked at Garrit. His brow creased as he studied the baby thoughtfully.
“We hadn’t decided yet. I thought we’d have another week or two. A family name, I think. If Garrit will choose one.”
“Alexandre,” he said softly, and then he smiled at her. “Let’s call him Alexandre Ryam.”
She felt tears prick her eyes. Alexandre had been one of Adam’s names, when she lived as Helen. The name he had earned for his bravery, for a selfless act. Garrit couldn’t have known what he suggested, not really, but it seemed fitting, somehow, after Adam’s departure. “That sounds perfect.”
Mia touched the baby’s hand with a finger. Alexandre wrapped his little fist around it, even as he slept. “I’m going to be your most favorite aunt, Alex. You can come visit me whenever you want, and I promise I won’t make you do anything except play. And when you have brothers and sisters, I won’t make you share any of your toys with them. I’m going to spoil you rotten.”
“Why don’t you go get Mum and Dad, Mia?”
She sighed. “Do I have to?”
“Please?”
Mia left, and Garrit tore his gaze from the baby to look at Eve. “What happened to Ethan? In all the commotion I honestly didn’t think of him.”
“He left just before.” She fussed with the baby’s blanket as an excuse not to meet Garrit’s eyes.
The memory of what Adam had revealed to her was still raw. The way he had held her to his will in that moment, showing her the love which had overtaken him, though he knew she couldn’t return it. And even if she hadn’t been married, his awareness that she would have refused him, had no choice but to refuse him. It was a love laced with agony, and her heart broke for him.
“I would have sworn he was with us when I called the doctor, and we raced you to the hospital.”
She shook her head, looking up at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. He studied her expression for a moment, and she waited for him to understand.
When it came, he turned his face away, and the muscles along his jaw revealed the clenching of his teeth. “He knew you were going into labor because he was in your head. He was in my head.”
“I saw him drive off, and Mia was so upset.”
He was still stiff, and his eyes were dark with a mix of emotions. “Why did he leave?”
It wasn’t a question she wanted to answer honestly. “He said to give you his regards. That it was for the best that he go.” That he loved me. That he was leaving for me. For Mia, too, so he wouldn’t betray his love to her. To be faithful to both of us, she realized.
Garrit nodded. “If you speak with him again,�
� the words came out resentfully, “give him my gratitude.”
She dropped her gaze back to the baby, then her parents came into the room with Mia, and René and Juliette, and she was spared the problem of answering him.
Eve woke in the dark, gasping. The dream had not been this vivid since she had lived as Helen, and she pressed her hand against her womb, the phantom sword a fire in her belly. She reached to touch Alex, sleeping peacefully in his bassinet, to reassure herself he was still breathing and warm and safe. The doctors had insisted on keeping them overnight, to give her body time to rest, though how much of it was Garrit’s worry and how much a medical necessity she didn’t know. But Alex was well, his mind the pleasant susurrus of infant dreams, swirls of colors and impressions. Undisturbed.
“For the moment.”
The voice froze her, cold and hard, and the burn in her womb throbbed painfully. Michael stepped forward from the shadow, white wings folded neatly to his back, gleaming so brightly she wondered how she had not seen him until now. The Archangel laid a pale hand over Alex’s fluttering heart.
“But that can change swiftly, Eve. And I would not even need the sword to steal the breath from your son’s body.” The hand rose higher, hovering over Alex’s mouth and nose, but not quite touching. “Should I kill him for this treachery, to remind you of the risks you take? Evidently dreaming of the death that will come no longer suffices.”
“No,” she whispered, lurching forward and knocking the cradle away. “I haven’t forgotten! I need no reminder!”
“But you soften toward your brother.” Michael’s eyes met hers, glowing with blue fire.
“No!” She stepped between Alex and the angel, hiding the baby behind her. As if that would stop Michael. As if he could not force her to do anything he wished. Her gaze fell to the sword at his hip. “I am in love with my husband. Adam has no power here. No power over me!”
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