Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

  I snuck another irritated glance at my father as he pulled up in front of our apartment. We would be staying in Building C on the second floor. His jaw was clenched, lips pressed in a flat line, and eye sockets shadowed with exhaustion.

  Remorse swept through me at the knowledge he was worried to death about me. For one heart-wringing moment, I wished I could open up right now and tell him everything, the whole truth about Stellan and me. Our marriage. The fact I was carrying a vampire in my womb. My growing fear that someday my dead husband's enemies — whomever they might be — would come after our child just because he or she was a Romolov.

  The longing to bare my heart to my father grew so strong I reached across the console to lay my hand on his arm, but he was already opening his door and stepping out of the car.

  I lowered my hand. The moment was gone.

  No sooner had Bax and I climbed the two flights of exterior stairs and dragged our few belongings through the front door, I doubled over with a cramp. I stood in the entry foyer, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Around the corner, Bax clattered in the kitchen, putting away a bag of dry-goods groceries we'd purchased on the way here.

  After a few seconds of cramping, nausea took over. I gagged and dashed down the hall in search of a restroom, which turned out to be the first door on the right past the kitchen-dining combo. I slammed the door and vomited my guts out in the toilet.

  "Gracie?" My father pounded on the bathroom door. "You okay in there?"

  What does it sound like? "I'm fine," I called weakly. Leaning over the sink, I washed my mouth out and rinsed my face with cold water. It offered a small amount of relief from my heaving insides. Until the next wave hit.

  After I cleaned my face a second time, I slid to the cool, tile floor and rested my head on my knees. Looked like I was going to spend a lot of time in the bathroom over the next several months.

  I'd read everything I could on pregnancies, but there was no information available on what to expect when carrying a vampire. I had no idea if what I was feeling was normal or not.

  The nausea and cramps got worse as I neared the end of my first trimester, not better like the prenatal books had indicated they should. It got so bad one afternoon I yanked open the medicine cabinet and stared drearily at its contents. Bax had it stocked with over-the-counter pain medicine, cold medicine, and cough drops but nothing strong enough to end things permanently —

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Lord help me! What am I thinking? Knowing I could never make such a decision with an innocent life growing in my womb, I shut the cabinet door. I slammed it a little harder than I meant to, and it bounced back open and smacked me in the nose.

  Slipping on a damp tile, I lost my balance and flailed to catch my footing, knocking several bottles from the cabinet. I managed to step on one of the rolling bottles, and my feet shot out from beneath me. I crashed to the floor, hitting the back of my head. Hard.

  I awoke to a rip-roaring headache and the sound of male weeping. Bax held me draped across his lap, rocking me.

  "Come back to me, Gracie. You and the baby are all I have left. Please don't leave me."

  His reference to my mother's death made my heart ache as much as my head.

  I tried to say something comforting but gagged instead. All that came out was a gurgling sound.

  Bax jolted to realize my eyes were open. He stared at me, swallowing hard and trying to collect himself. Then his ashen pallor reddened and his expression evolved into a scowl. "What were you thinking, Gracie? I know things are bad right now, but taking your life won't solve a thing."

  My heart sank through the floorboards to realize my father had once again jumped to the worst conclusion.

  "I wish I were dead," I told him bitterly, struggling to sit up. "I really really really do, but I'm not selfish enough to take an innocent life with me. The fact that you think I'm capable of such a hideous thing after the way you raised me. . .well, that's not cool. I slipped on the tile, okay? That's it."

  "Okay, Gracie," he whispered, still looking and sounding shaken. He helped me sit up then remained on his knees staring at me awkwardly for several more seconds.

  I stared back, chin raised.

  "Okay, princess." He held up both hands, palms facing out. "I'm going to get out of here and give you some privacy, but you holler if you need anything, you hear?"

  The next day Bax filed for his retirement from the Army and managed to get emergency leave approved while he waited for them to process his application. All the sudden, his sad and cranky self was stationed in our apartment seven days per week, all day long. It was like a new and horrific chapter to an already bad nightmare. It was all I could do on a normal day to juggle my online classes and pregnancy sickness, and now I had to add co-existing with him to the mix.

  My only break from his brooding disapproval and over-attentiveness was when our new neighbor moved in next door.

  We were sitting on our cramped little balcony consuming one of our silent dinners one hot, humid evening, when the man leaned over the railing of his empty balcony.

  He stuck out a hand to Bax. "Vinny Stone. Airline pilot in training." He looked to be about average height and wore his auburn hair closely cropped, almost military style. The yellow ceiling light picked up the gold and red tones in his hair, making several strands almost appear as if they were on fire.

  Though he spoke to Bax, Vinny's gaze strayed to me and sparked with interest. I almost laughed in his face, because I couldn't think of one good reason for him to be looking at me.

  It was late August and hot as Hades. I was wearing a sleeveless blue maternity top with white stars on it, cutoff shorts, and no makeup. My hair was tied back in a loose pony with a few strands stringing in my face. No doubt I looked like a sticky, sweaty, pregnant mess.

  Bax laid down his beef au' jus sandwich and shook Vinny's hand. "Bax Livingston," he answered easily, not bothering to enlighten our new neighbor with any details about his own vocation. That was part of our cover. Lay low and don't say much about us.

  It made it impossible to have any sort of social life, not that I wanted one or felt up to it health-wise these days.

  "Grace." I offered Vinny a careless wave, not much more than a single wrist-flop. Best to discourage his attentions at the get-go. I took a deep breath and wound up for the kill shot.

  My father shot me a worried glance.

  "I'm an unwed, pregnant, struggling college student without a job," I announced wickedly.

  A shocked silence followed my atrocious introduction. Bax's face turned red. He stood up and walked through the sliding glass door to the kitchen with the rest of his uneaten sandwich lying on his plate.

  I would have followed him except I was too busy trying not to throw up. Maybe if I didn't move for a few more seconds, I might actually keep the two bites of sandwich down I'd just eaten.

  It defied all logic, but Vinny continued to lean across our shared balcony railing. He tipped his head back a fraction and sniffed as if enjoying the night breeze "So, ah. . .what school do you attend?" His bright, interested smile didn't waver, as if I had not just created the social blunder of the century.

  Since he obviously didn't know how to take a hint and since I was feeling too ill to move, I decided to play along and pretend we were having a normal conversation. "UT. I'm double majoring in dance and dance studies and plan to open my own studio someday." Technically, I was still working on getting all the prerequisite classes out of the way, but I hoped to start my first dance electives as soon as next semester.

  "Sounds like you know what you want out of life." Admiration infused his voice.

  "I thought I did," I returned bluntly. "Until my boyfriend died." I pulled out the promise ring of caged hearts I wore on a chain beneath my shirt. "We were going to get married." Technically, we had gotten married.

  "I'm sorry for your loss." Vinny stared down at the red plastic cup in his hands, looking and sounding genuinely like he meant it. "I was en
gaged once myself. She died . . ." He looked like he was trying to decide if he wanted to say more. ". . . of leukemia."

  "Oh, wow. That's rough." I imagined that's why my melancholy hadn't turned him off. It struck a sympathy chord in him.

  "At least you have something really worthwhile to remember him by." Vinny's voice took on a note of envy.

  "This ring?" A slightly hysterical laugh escaped me. It was nothing more than a hunk of twisted metal with two cold, lifeless gems encased in it. It was a memorial of sorts to the commitments we'd made to each other, but in no way did it compensate me for my loss.

  "I was referring to your baby," he corrected dryly.

  "Oh." I squinted across the railing at Vinny, trying to determine if he was entirely sane. It wasn't often a girl ran into a person envious of her unmarried pregnant status. What a novel twist to a conversation that had started out with my full intent to scare him away!

  "Well, it was nice meeting you." My nausea was fading, but I knew my relief would be temporary. Best to get back inside before the next wave hit.

  "Right back atcha, beautiful." He winked and grinned at me, the kind of grin a guy gives a pretty girl. I don't know why I found that odd, but I did. I thought I'd made it pretty clear I was still in love with my dead boyfriend.

  He half turned away, then hesitated a moment and turned back to me. "Hey, I'm going to be here awhile for flight school, so feel free to knock on my door if you need anything."

  "I, ah . . . thanks." I had no intention of knocking on his door. Offering him a dismissive wave, I opened the sliding glass door and let myself back in the apartment.

  Bax was brewing a fresh pot of tea. He glanced up from the kitchen counter when I entered. "Vinny seems like a nice guy."

  I shrugged. "I guess."

  An awkward silence settled between us. Bax opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, then opened it again. "Listen, princess, you didn't have to put yourself down like that in front of our new neighbor. It was—"

  "Embarrassing?" I supplied acidly.

  "I was going for unnecessary, but yes. It was embarrassing, too."

  "I was merely lending a voice to your mortified thoughts. I know how disappointed you are in me every second of every day. Believe me, it shows."

  Bax leaned forward to rest his elbows heavily on the kitchen cabinet. He exhaled slowly. "Listen, Gracie, you've made a few mistakes lately, and I'm not going to lie to you. Yeah, I'm a little disappointed. If that makes me a bad father in your eyes, then so be it. But know this." His drew his brows together fiercely. "I still love you more than my own life. Always have. Always will. I'd take a bullet for you or your baby without a second thought. I—aw, hell!" He threw up his hands and strode from the room.

  I stared after him in irritation. "Stellan was not a mistake!" I shouted to no one in particular. A cramp seized my insides, forcing me to grip the side of the kitchen cabinet for support. "He wasn't a mistake," I repeated hoarsely with less energy.

  Angry tears flooded my eyes. I wanted to scream and weep and howl at the moon in frustration over not being able to share the truth about Stellan with Bax. With the world, for that matter. My husband didn't deserve to have the media muck all over his good name. He was the victim here, not the bad guy. It was so unfair.

  A shadowy movement outside the kitchen window made me wonder if Vinny was still out there on the balcony. If he was, he had no business intruding on my grief. I stomped over to the window and yanked down the shade. Then I stomped to my room to spend another night alone and miserably pregnant in the darkness.

  Vinny rang our doorbell a few mornings later to scoot two enormous boxes through our doorway. "Baby furniture just arrived," he panted. "Want some help putting it together?"

  I was about to say no, but Bax sauntered into the living room. "Sure. I could use an extra set of hands."

  You're on your own then. I left the room, having no interest in playing hostess to our uninvited guest.

  Apparently, Bax felt differently. He and Vinny clattered around the nursery for the next few hours. They stopped for a couple of beer breaks and flipped on the sports channel in the living room to loudly debate the pre-season game scores. I shut myself in my bedroom to do some reading for one of my college classes, complete a yoga stretch routine, and get ready for my upcoming prenatal appointment later in the afternoon.

  I came out of my room showered and changed at the crack of two. I reached for my keys from the bowl on the bar and froze to discover Vinny sitting on the living room couch. Bax was nowhere in sight.

  "You ready?" he asked, hopping lithely to his feet.

  I raised my brows at him. "Where's Bax?"

  "We were missing a few screws for the baby bed, so I offered to drive you to the doctor while he ran to the hardware store."

  I briefly closed my eyes. "I do not need a chauffeur. I am more than capable of getting myself to the doctor's office." I immediately ruined my show of independence by gagging and dashing for the bathroom.

  Vinny smiled knowingly when I returned. His own car keys dangled from his forefinger. "You were saying?"

  For no apparent reason, I wanted to throw something at grinning face and overly positive attitude. Additionally, I was furious at Bax's high-handedness in throwing us into each other's company. He'd never had one nice thing to say about Stellan, referring to him only as my dead boyfriend on the few occasions we'd discussed him. Apparently, he found Vinny a more acceptable candidate for dating his daughter.

  Mulling my options, however, I decided to accept Mr. Sunshine's offer to drive me. I was simply too sick to argue the point.

  My OB/GYN doctor took one look at me and sent me to the lab for a battery of blood tests. As if I wasn't feeling bad enough already! I got to be pricked and bled while the lab technician filled a half of dozen vials. Then he insisted I remain in the waiting room until the results came back. He returned to inform me my blood counts were severely low, which earned me a few more hours in a hospital bed receiving a blood transfusion.

  The worst part about the blood transfusion was Bax's reaction to it. He totally freaked and swore he wouldn't let me out of his sight again until the baby was born.

  After helping assemble my baby furniture, Vinny pretty much became a permanent fixture in our household. I should have put a stop to his visits. I could tell he was growing more attached to me, and deep down I knew I did not return his feelings — that I would never return his feelings. But it was a weak and ugly point in my life. I was consumed with grief and rage. At my father's disappointment and all his hovering. At the fact my mother had died prematurely. At the fact my husband had been brutally murdered. At the world in general, I guess.

  Unfortunately — or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it — Vinny had came along at just the right time to help restore a little sense of normalcy to my life. He made me laugh a few times even though I didn't want to. He helped me start to accept the cards I'd been dealt, despite how wildly unfair they were. And he helped nudge me in the direction of moving on with my life, though I fought him each step of the way.

  He was also the person sitting with me in the living room when my water broke, signifying the start of my labor pains. He rushed me to the hospital in his sports car and waited at my bedside until Bax arrived. Then he stayed and kept my father company in the waiting room.

  The pain meds they gave me had no effect. My pain escalated to excruciating levels, and I screamed my head off. Bax came dashing into my labor and delivery room with Vinny right on his heels.

  "Why is she hurting so much?" my father demanded, wild-eyed.

  "I don't know," the nurse answered helplessly, pink spots riding her cheeks. She was a short, middle-aged woman with a tight mass of salt and pepper curls. "We've given her all the medication we're allowed to. I'll page the doctor again. He'll return as soon as he finishes delivering the baby next door."

  While Bax continued to fuss at the nurse, Vinny leaned over the bed to get eye level with
me. "Tell me what I can do to help," he ordered calmly.

  I answered mechanically. "Hold my hand."

  "It's time to push again," the nurse warned a few minutes later.

  I pushed and screamed and pushed some more. All the while, I held so tightly to Vinny's hand, I swear I felt one of the bone's crack. Maybe I imagined it, though, because he didn't so much as grimace.

  It seemed like I only enjoyed a few seconds of relief before the nurse instructed me to push again. This time I pushed so hard, I heard a popping sound. Pain radiated across my lower back. It hurt like crazy, so much it left me breathless. I couldn't muster up any more screams. All I could do was whimper.

  The delivery nurse paled.

  "What just happened?" Bax snarled, white-faced.

  "It's probably her tailbone," the woman admitted weakly.

  "You mean she broke it?" His voice rose to an incredulous squeak.

  "I'm afraid so." She mashed a button on the wall panel. "We need a doctor in here. Stat!"

  Vinny stayed in front of my face, speaking quietly to me. I could no longer make out what he was saying, but I couldn't seem to take my eyes off him either. I stared in glazed fascination at his moving lips, wondering how much longer I would last. No one could be in this much pain and survive, could they?

  I kept my eyes on him even when the doctor entered the room. I think my mind had sort of detached itself from my body at this point. I didn't drop his gaze even after I heard my baby enter the world with a distant cry of protest. I wasn't aware of much of anything until the nurse laid the wailing infant in my arms.

  Only then did my attention snap back to the present. I gazed down at the freshly scrubbed, agitated baby with tiny flying fists and fell instantly in love. His dark downy hair waved to a silken peak at the top of his head.