I couldn’t think of a way to circumvent Siobhan and my fingers hurt almost as much as my heart. If I could just sit here in the rain for five minutes, maybe I could think straight again.
Shoes crunched on the wet gravel. I looked up to see Jason Allerton. He had a black umbrella, which he graciously extended to cover me as well, but I was already soaked and past caring about it.
“I’ve got to leave,” he said. “I’ve got reservations on a flight to London. The Great Council is convening tomorrow to discuss what’s happened within Mac Tire.”
I bit my lip.
“I wanted to say goodbye. Liam informed me today that he no longer wishes to be my Advisor. I wondered if you felt the same way.”
“Guilty,” I croaked, damning my stupid throat. Jason leaned forward, his brow crinkled in confusion. “Murphy,” I tried to clarify. “He feels guilty. For killing Mick.”
“Ah,” said Jason, his face clearing. “Are you saying he feels he doesn’t deserve to be an Advisor?”
I nodded vigorously.
“So I shouldn’t take his resignation seriously?”
I kept nodding.
“Does this mean you’ll talk him around for me?”
More nodding. Jason gave me a blinding smile that made him look ten years younger. Younger than me.
“So you can’t possibly resign either under these circumstances. Not without being a hypocrite. It’s settled then. I have two Advisors still.”
“I want to keep the Pack safe.” Every word felt like acid in my throat, but I forced them out. “Like you do.”
Relief and affection lit up his face, and before I knew it I was in his arms, the umbrella dropped to the muddy gravel, so he could spin me around in a giddy, undignified circle.
Jason Allerton, man of surprises. For once I was not dismayed by the break in his facade of control and perfection. He was a man as well as a Councilor. It had only taken me a frigging year to figure it out.
Epilogue
“I’m dying!” Fee, sweaty hair plastered to her face, clutched at my hand and gritted her teeth as another painful contraction swept through her.
“You’re not dying,” said Siobhan. “You keep mentioning death, Fiona Carmichael, and I’ll kill you myself. You think this is bad, try having twins.”
Fee gave her mother the finger with her free hand, and Siobhan swatted her bare calf but didn’t take her attention from between Fee’s legs.
I, on the other hand, steadfastly avoided looking in that general direction. This whole experience had been bad enough before the baby’s head crowned, but ever since then, I’d been in a constant struggle not to puke.
Maureen and Siobhan, the baby’s grandmothers, seemed unflappable. Fascinated, even. Alannah Doyle, the baby’s aunt, looked a little green around the gills. That didn’t stop her from shooting me death glares when she thought no one was looking.
In the weeks since her bond mate’s death, her hatred had intensified. I was shocked she would even deign to stay in the same room with me, but apparently she was not going to let me witness the birth of our niece or nephew without being in attendance as well.
Siobhan Carmichael had not warmed up to me in the intervening weeks either. Glenn was a taboo subject. She didn’t talk about him to me. Murphy didn’t. Fee didn’t. It was as if he’d never existed. The same with Declan Byrne. They’d betrayed the pack.
Everyone talked about Paddy, though. Every day his name came up at some point. Sometimes I could even talk about him without crying. Baby steps.
Maureen O’Shea, Paddy’s mother, bent closer to the baby’s crowning head. I tried not to gag. Birth was supposed to be beautiful, but it so wasn’t. Not even close. It was disgusting, actually.
“Just a few more pushes, Fee,” Maureen said, and Fee groaned as another contraction rippled across her huge belly. Revolted, I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
“You’re next, you pussy,” snarled Fee and dug her goddamn nails into my wrist.
“Fuck you,” I retorted. “You think I’m going to go through this bullshit?”
“I do.” Fee’s grin was malicious. “And I hope you have triplets, you horrible, horrible bitch. I’m gonna be there laughing.”
“Less talking, more pushing,” suggested Siobhan. The look she directed at me was cold. If she could have sent me from the room for instigating childbirth rebellion, she would have, but when she’d originally tried to say the room was too crowded, Fiona suggested she ought to be the one to leave. And since then I’d been tolerated, but I had a feeling a lot of Irish cursing of my name was going on beneath the breath.
“Fee, do you want to stand up, darling?” Maureen was the calmest influence in the room. I liked her, but I wasn’t sure how she felt about me. Her black, curly hair was piled on top of her head in a careless knot, and her dark eyes were compassionate. I wanted to talk to her about Paddy, but I didn’t know how to begin. I thought maybe after she and Andrew had bonded with Siobhan she would approach me, but so far she hadn’t.
Deirdre Collins, Fee’s new bond mate, rushed back into the room with bottles of water. She saw the baby’s head and blanched.
Her pregnancy hadn’t started to show yet, and every time I tried to imagine her four-foot-ten body attempting to expel the child—or children—of six-foot-six-inch Colm O’Reilly, I shuddered.
The men—Murphy, Colm and Andrew Brody, waited in the living room of the apartment the Alphas shared. I suspected there was a lot of Jameson’s being handed around. Andrew was standing by to help if necessary, but so far the birth had been nearly textbook and we women were handling it. I wished I could have had a shot of Jameson’s but instead I took a bottle of water from Deirdre and made do with that.
Fee’s glazed gaze sharpened as another contraction hit her. I looked over my shoulder for the fifth or sixth time that hour, but nobody was there, even though the space between my shoulder blades itched as if somebody was staring at me.
“You see him too, huh?” Fee’s face contorted as she tried to breathe. She looked straight into the corner, past me. “You ought to be in the other room with the men, you feckin’ idiot!” Her tone was exasperated, yet affectionate.
Shivers went down my spine.
Maureen and Siobhan exchanged looks and said nothing.
Alannah’s face pinched in on itself.
“Never tell me he’s here. Only the miserable ones walk. He’s miserable, Paddy is, and he’s gonna haunt us forever, isn’t he?” She let out a wail and covered her face.
“Alannah,” remonstrated Deirdre. “You’re not helping.”
Alannah bit back a sharp retort. Deirdre was her Alpha.
“She’s not lying. Restless spirits walk. They don’t go to the otherworld. I keep waiting for Paddy to go, but he won’t. Wretched bastard.” Tears streaked Fee’s blotchy face, and Maureen winced.
Deirdre rushed to Fee’s side and smoothed back some of the sweaty hair from her face.
“Don’t you fret about this. He’s here to watch his child born. Then he’ll go, you’ll see. Won’t he, Stanzie?” Deirdre appealed to me as if I would know.
“Maybe I’m dying. Or the baby will die, and he’s here to bring us to the otherworld,” speculated Fee in a sepulchral tone.
“For fuck’s sake, Fiona,” I yelled. “You’re not gonna die. Nobody with a mouth as big as yours is dying.”
“Piss off.” Fiona pinched me, and I pinched her back. Deirdre bit back a smile.
“You tell him to go then, you sanctimonious bitch. Tell Paddy he’s breaking my heart. I want him to be safe in the otherworld, not fucking floating around in this one. He can’t talk, he can’t touch me—he just fucking hovers there staring. You tell him to move on, Stanzie. You think you know everything.”
“I don’t see spirits,” I said.
“You don’t believe he’s there?” A sly look spread across Fee’s face. “Why are you casting looks over your shoulder every fifteen minutes then? Looking right at him in the corner if y
ou don’t see spirits. You’re a fucking liar, Newcastle, you know that?”
“He’ll go when he’s ready.” Maureen O’Shea looked wistfully into the corner where Paddy supposedly hovered. I didn’t see a fucking thing. I don’t think she did either.
Fee burst into tears.
“I don’t want him to be alone. I wish I would die so I could be with him.”
“Fiona!” Siobhan’s cheeks paled. “Please don’t say things like that. Your baby needs you. You had your time with Paddy and now you’re with Colm and Deirdre and you’re Alpha of the pack. We need you strong.”
“Then tell him to leave. Tell him to rest,” Fee begged and thrashed in the bed as another massive contraction took over her body. She screamed, and I felt the bones in my fingers cracking beneath the pressure of her grip.
The stench of blood filled my nostrils. Blood and other fluid. Maureen and Siobhan put their hands out, and Alannah covered her face again. Deirdre watched for a moment and then turned her face to mine.
“I think I’m going to pass out,” she remarked conversationally and slumped across the bed.
Alannah grabbed for her and dragged her to a chair.
“Oh. Jesus God, what am I doing here?” I groaned beneath my breath.
“Fuck. You. New. Castle,” Fee managed to say between screams.
Thin, reedy wails filled the air. More blood and fluid.
“It’s a boy,” cried Siobhan, jubilant. Tears poured down Maureen’s cheeks as she cradled the newborn for a moment before she handed him to Siobhan.
I saw a small scrap of a baby with a huge mop of black hair. He had more hair than anything else, and when Siobhan laid him on top of Fiona, I saw his eyes. One was blue, the other a cloudy indeterminate color between blue and brown that I was sure would resolve into pure brown. Just as I was certain the hair on his head would curl.
Fee let go of my hand so she could touch her son. I stumbled away from the bed. My hand hurt like frigging hell, and I flexed it to get the circulation moving again.
Nobody stood in the corner that I could see, but I stopped just short of where I thought maybe his toes would be.
“Okay,” I said through the tears that clogged my throat. “He’s born, he’s safe and he’s going to look just like you, the poor little thing. Now you can go. It’s like Alannah said, only miserable spirits walk, and you’d better not be miserable, Paddy O’Reilly. We love you too much for that. Nobody as loved as you can be miserable. It’s the law, you bastard.
“I swear I’ll look after Fee and when your son’s old enough, I’ll initiate his wolf like I promised. Paddy, I don’t even know if you can hear me.” I grimaced and felt like an idiot, but then something weird stole through me. A feeling as if I weren’t alone. I swore I smelled Paddy’s cologne, but that was impossible. I swallowed the tears in my throat. “Jesus, Paddy, no matter how many Alphas I ever have, there will always be a piece of me that belongs to you. Always. Now go on, get the fuck out of here. Move on. Please.”
I still didn’t see a damn thing, but I swore I felt the tip of someone’s tongue in my ear, and a shiver danced up my spine.
I turned around and saw Fee surrounded by her pack mates, her son in her arms, but her gaze was fixed on me not him.
Her lips parted and formed two words. Thank you.
I curled my fingers around my bond pendant and the Celtic knot Paddy had fashioned for me and let the tears fall. They hurt, but they were good tears, cleansing tears.
After a moment, I went back to the bed.
“Here.” Fee held out the baby. He was so fucking small, my heart hurt. I’d never held a baby that little. I took him as gently as I could and he trembled in my arms as he struggled to find comfort. “We’re gonna call him William. Will for short. Paddy wanted that name. When we were growing up, he always said our son’s name would be William and Liam’s would be Patrick and they’d be best friends the way we all were.” Her glowing face dimmed, and unbearable grief made her eyes dark. “I just always thought he’d be here to help me raise him.”
“You’ve got the whole pack to help you raise him,” I whispered. One of Will’s tiny fists waved in the air, and I reached out a finger. His fist closed around it with surprising strength, and my heart missed a beat. “It’ll be all right, Fee. You just wait, okay?”
“But it’ll never be the same,” she said, her gaze far away.
“No,” I agreed. I thought of Grey and Elena and my former life. “But you’re wrong if you think the best is in the past. You’ll find new happiness, Fee, I know you will. I did, and so will you.”
I tried to hand the baby back, but Fee shook her head.
“Go clean him up and show him to Colm and Liam. Tell them his name. Watch Liam’s face when you do. Tell me what he says.”
* * * *
“Hi, Will.” Murphy very carefully took his nephew in his arms while Colm watched. “God, he’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” Murphy’s face softened, and his smile was indescribable.
I nodded.
“Stanzie, if we ever have a son…” Murphy began. I loved him so much I couldn’t breathe. He tore his gaze away from his nephew, and when he looked at me, I felt how much he loved me in return. His love was a blaze of warmth I felt from the inside out.
“We’ll call him Patrick, and he’ll be best friends with Will, and they’ll do all the things you two did,” I told him. He grinned at me and looked back to the baby.
“And they’ll be old grandfathers together someday,” Murphy leaned against me when I brushed my lips across the side of his face. “Because we’re going to make sure they have that chance. Right, Stanzie?”
“Right,” I agreed. I was damned if I wouldn’t make it so, in any way I had to. Whatever it took.
Amy Lee Burgess
I blame Stanzie for making me break one of my cardinal rules in writing: No conspiracies! They get so tangled up and hard to manage, but nothing is worse than one that is too simplistic and black and white. I have to admit, though, I am enjoying the ride. Maybe I should break my rules more often?
Other rules I have are–in no particular order–never mix supernaturals. No werewolves with vampire friends. No elves elbowing out warlocks. Always put out the yellow towels on Friday. Avoid highways and take surface streets as often as possible. Never name characters after exes. Lock the bedroom door when watching The Walking Dead. No singing aloud in public.
I started out life in New England and moved to New Orleans on a whim with my fiancé when I was thirty. We endured fires, floods, four cats and the peculiar stench that drifted from the river every spring.
Katrina scared me into relocating to Houston where I currently live with two dogs and a very elderly computer.
Stanzie journey is one that shows me, time and again, what it takes to start over and become better. Now if I could only shift into a wolf like she can!
I love to hear from readers, so please email me at [email protected]. I’m also on Twitter @amyleeburgess
Also by Amy Lee Burgess
The Wolf Within
Beneath the Skin
Scratch the Surface
Hidden in Plain Sight
Inside Out
Across the Line
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2013, Amy Lee Burgess
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First Electronic Edition: April, 2013
ISBN-13: 9781616504502
Table of Contents
About Face
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Meet the Author
Other Books by Amy Lee Burgess
Copyright
About Face (Wolf Within) Page 28