When Shannon had to repeat herself for the fourth time, as she drove me to Chuch and Eva’s place, she finally asked, “What is with you today? Are you stoned?”
“Not anymore. But there’s something major on my mind.”
“Chance,” she guessed.
“For once, no.”
“Kel?”
“Colder.” I wasn’t trying to be annoying; I just didn’t know if I was ready to share such fresh, earthshaking news.
“Just tell me already. What?”
I pressed both hands to my abdomen. “Baby.”
The car slung sideways as she slammed on the brakes, as she’d nearly run a red light in gawking at me. “No way. You’re knocked up?”
“Yep. Apparently.”
“Dude, this is huge.”
She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know; my skull still felt too small for my baffled brain. I mean, I could ask Eva for practical advice, but down the line? All of this rested squarely on me. If I had eaten more of the gross hospital food, just the worry could make me upchuck, forget about morning sickness.
“I know.”
“Is it . . . does it change your plans any?”
I understood what she was asking; maybe it was too risky to keep trying to bring Chance back—and I’d wrestled with the question as I sat on the hospital bed. “I’m still considering,” I said softly. “This is . . . there’s no road map for where I am, you know?”
Shan nodded. “Yeah, it’s not like there’s a self-help book for this.”
“Common sense says I should stop. Take this no further and start making plans for the baby. But . . .” I shook my head. “I don’t think I can live with myself if I do that. He gave up everything for me. I’ll be careful, play it safer than I have been, but . . . I think I have to try. No matter what.”
“I’ll back you up . . . but trust I’m not letting you take stupid risks anymore. That’s my future niece growing in your belly.”
“Niece? You’re sure of that, are you?” Inwardly I smiled over her assumption of an auntie’s role, but it was true. Shan was the closest I’d ever get to a sister.
“I can hope, anyway. A boy would be cool, but less fun for shopping.”
A few minutes later, we pulled up at the Ortiz house. I was thinking about how to break the news, but Shannon saved me the trouble. The girl could run like the wind, even in platform Mary Janes. By the time I hobbled out of the car and into the front room, she’d already told everyone. So it was just as well I hadn’t planned to keep it secret. Eva and Chuch hugged me while Booke studied me with equal measures of awe and a single man’s terror of reproduction.
They were all asking questions faster than I could process them. I swayed on my sore leg, and Kel scooped me up, carried me toward his favorite armchair. Weird that a half demon would have such strong preferences in furniture, but there you go. Oddly it made him seem more human to me; that he enjoyed small comforts and watching TV Azteca while curled up with my dog. But even though his wounds had healed, the sorrow hadn’t left his icy eyes. I wasn’t sure it ever would.
“I think she’s feeling a bit overwhelmed,” Booke observed. “Let’s give her some space, shall we?”
To my relief, the others took him at his word. Kel knelt beside me, offering Butch like a gift, and I huffed out a choky breath. Gods, pregnancy hormones—no wonder I was tearing up over the smallest thing. But it felt like a century since I’d cuddled my dog. The Chihuahua settled into the crook of my arm after spinning around multiple times. Good to see some things didn’t change.
Kel asked, “Are you well, Corine?”
“Mostly. Are you hiding from Barachiel?” I didn’t ask if he had been crashing at the Ortiz house this whole time.
“Not hiding. Planning. This can only end in his death . . . or mine. I can’t think of any other way I’ll ever be free.”
“Kel,” I started to say, but he held up a hand.
“This isn’t your concern any longer. I’ll handle it.”
“Like you handled him before?” As soon as the words came out, I wished I could swallow them.
Kel flinched, dropping back onto his haunches as if I’d kicked him. “You’re right to remark upon my weakness.”
“No. I didn’t mean it like that. Look, Shannon just bitched me out for taking too much on myself . . . for forgetting I have friends to help me out. That’s all I’m saying to you in turn. There’s no need for you to be a lone wolf. Maybe we can figure something out together.”
“After all the harm I’ve caused,” he said humbly, “I don’t deserve your friendship. But I treasure it.”
“Bullshit.” I tried on a do not argue with me look, and it worked.
Kel didn’t say any more about his inadequacies, which was just as well. I didn’t feel emotionally equipped to reassure anyone else; at the moment, my psyche was held together with duct tape and baling wire. But I did give him a hug, as those I could offer freely. He returned it fiercely, burying his head in the crook between my neck and shoulder. I stroked his back, feeling maternal toward him, possibly because he was so very broken.
Eventually, he whispered, “I can’t fight him and win . . . but I think I can grant you time to do what’s needed.”
Though I had no idea what that meant, Eva interrupted the conversation by asking how I felt. The others tiptoed around me that night, though Chuch was adorable, bringing me food and beverages, standing in for Chance, as he put it. I kinda loved him in a nonsexual, utterly platonic fashion.
That night, I called Tia to check in, and she seemed delighted to hear my voice. “Hola, mija.”
Until this moment, I hadn’t realized how much I missed her . . . and Mexico. We chatted a little about how she was doing, she promised to wire me some more money in the morning, and then she said, “Are you coming home soon?”
Five words, but they broke my heart, because I had to answer, “I don’t know when. I’m still following some leads here, looking for Chance.”
Feels like I’m totally Cat-in-the-Cradle-ing her. I hadn’t told her exactly what happened or how I ended up stranded in the U.K., but her tone became sympathetic. “You don’t come home without that boy, okay? He’s the one for you.”
“Si, claro,” I promised, hoping I could make the words true.
Once we hung up, I struggled with the pit opening in my stomach, sadness wrapped around despair. I beat them both down because that couldn’t be good for the baby. Oh, gods, from this point on, that refrain would haunt my every moment. Part of me wondered if it was okay to be this conflicted, so ambivalent about bringing a life into this world. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Chance’s baby, more that I doubted my ability to raise a kid properly. Shit, what did I know about anything?
The next day, Kel disappeared. He didn’t say good-bye, and I hoped like hell he had sense enough not to go after Barachiel a second time on his own. There was no way I could cut him free again. Not now. Between a bun in the oven, a bum leg, and an impossible quest, I had too many other chainsaws to juggle.
That night, I found a note from him in my purse. Corine, he wrote in perfectly elegant calligraphy. Where I’ve gone, you must not follow. For while Barachiel chases me, he cannot hunt you. The time I can grant you is limited; eventually, he will find me, and I do not know if we will meet again. Yours always, Kelethiel.
I pressed the note to my heart, trying to stem a pang of pain. Fear for my friend tightened my chest. And so I brooded while my other loved ones gave me a wide berth. Though it hurt, I couldn’t go after him this time; my priorities had changed forever.
For the next week, my life consisted of sleep and food. It couldn’t go on in that fashion, however. Once I started physical therapy, the crew had to admit I was well enough to get on with my mission, regardless of how crazy it sounded. To their credit, my friends didn’t argue with me, and I half suspected it was out of a desire not to enrage the pregnant lady. They’d learned that lesson with Eva.
Booke approached me when the others didn’t dare. “Are you recovered enough to get on with saving Chance?”
I stared, astonished that he seemed to understand how driven I was. Physical pain didn’t matter. Nor did obstacles. If there was a brick wall between Chance and me, I’d demolish it. “Where do we start?”
“I’ve been reading on Area 51 . . . and it seems that there’s one place we can start looking.”
“Oh?” I hauled myself out of the chair. The stitches pulled, but I could walk if I took it slow. I wobbled a bit, despite the tight wrap on my upper thigh. This was both to protect the surgical work and to provide extra support. If Eva caught me, this mission would end in an argument.
He answered, “It’s an arcane library in San Antonio, and like most gifted places, the actual purpose is concealed from the public.”
“So where is it exactly?” I asked, pushing to my feet.
“You’ll see.” Booke could be annoyingly mysterious. “First, we need to see about a home base while we’re in San Antonio.”
I nodded. “It’s too far to drive back and forth.”
While Eva and Shannon were occupied with the baby and Chuch was in the enormous garage, showing Jesse the rebuilt 440 Magnum engine he’d dropped into the car recently, I limped back to the guest room to gather up my stuff. I hoped to sneak out without it becoming a big deal. Which would mean stealing a car from my friends.
Dammit.
I had just realized my getaway plan had a fatal flaw when Eva said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”
Every Dog Has His Day
“To San Antonio,” I murmured.
“Are you coming back? What’s our plan?” Eva was already summoning everybody back into the house for an impromptu meeting.
While I appreciated the support, it just wasn’t feasible for them to put their lives on pause, especially when I didn’t know what I was doing. What I needed. Sighing, I sat down at the kitchen table and perused some listings on Booke’s phone, which we’d purchased at the mall the other day. Within minutes, I found a furnished apartment for five hundred bucks a month, and it made sense to get my own place, as it was hard to say when I would be up to the task of finishing what I’d started. Physical therapy would go slower than I preferred—not that I expected an insta-fix—and I couldn’t impose on Chuch and Eva forever. An argument ensued, wherein they all talked about me as if I wasn’t present.
“She can’t be on her own,” Eva protested. “Corine needs support.”
“Yeah, we can’t be sure she’s sleeping right or eating enough,” Chuch agreed.
Shannon and Jesse both had opinions; he said I could stay with him, but that would be super awkward, and Shannon had a roomie who might object to a long-term houseguest. Finally, Booke cleared his throat—and it actually worked. In a quiet, understated way, he had quite a commanding presence. The others fell quiet.
