What Doesn't Kill You (13 page)

She wasn’t surprised to see Theresa there, Mindy Kay standing beside her. Claire invited them herself, just days after calling to let them know about Simon. She was startled when two other guests turned around, smiling at her.

Michelle and Penn, looking like the proverbial cats. Annie had been even busier than she thought. Claire waved at them as she passed, her throat tight, and some of the weight on her heart eased.

Marcus waited for her, devastating in solid black. Those wild black curls framed his face, the silver hamsa glinted in his ear, and the jade green eyes watched her. When he stepped forward and took her hand, it felt like coming home.

Zach leaned in and kissed her cheek, moving over to Eric’s side. He looked so serious, and older. Claire’s breath caught as she realized she looked at the young man he had become, replacing the boy forever.

Marcus lifted her hand, pressed it to his lips. “Ready for this, sweet?”

“Last chance to back out.”

He smiled, and her heart skipped. “Never.”

Wrapping his fingers around hers, he turned to face the minister. Claire met her eyes and nodded. To avoid any more heartache than they would already have today, she found a woman to marry them. Cinda, a friend of Billie’s who was happy to step in at the last minute.

“Friends and family. We gather here to celebrate love, and beginnings.” Cinda glanced down at Claire, and she nodded, bracing herself for the next part. “I know most of you were part of the end of another friend’s journey not long ago, and his absence is keenly felt. Claire and Marcus asked for a moment of silence, to bring Simon Asher here in memory, and to honor his life.”

Marcus tightened his grip on her hand, and Claire finally let Simon in.

Tears slipped down her face. She closed her eyes, his image filling her mind. Very clear, very green eyes, a strong, sculpted face, and a smile that could soothe or infuriate. God above, how she missed him. She would, for the rest of her life. But she could also find her way back to joy, knowing he would be happy for her, would stand for her if he were here.

Gentle fingers touched her shoulder. Claire looked up at Cinda. “Are you ready to continue?”

“Yes.” She let go of Marcus long enough to wipe at her face. Then, taking his hand, she met another pair of green eyes. “I’m ready.”

“Friends, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of—”

“Oh, God.” Annie’s strangled voice cut over the minister. Claire looked at her—and saw the stain on her dress, the puddle of water at her feet. “I think—my water broke.”

Claire moved to her, took her small bouquet and handed it to Cinda. “Annie.”

“Claire—”

“It’s all right, honey. I’m right here.”

“Okay.” Tears filled Annie’s eyes. She gave Claire a shaky smile. “We’re having a baby.”

*

B
efore panic could erupt, Claire turned around and raised her hands.

“Everyone—thank you for being here. I’m afraid we are going to postpone the ceremony for the moment. I’m sure Annie and Eric would like for you to come by the hospital later, to welcome their baby.” She reached past Marcus, who stared at Annie, and caught Eric’s hand. “Eric.
Eric
.”

He jerked at her voice, looked at her. “I don’t—what do I do?”

Claire tried not to smile at his panic. “Bring the car up, park in the handicapped spot. We’ll bring Annie to you.” She cradled his cheek. “She will be fine, Eric. Now, go get the car.”

“Get the car. Right.”

He ran across the sand, a man on a mission.

 “Zach.” He swung around, his face pale. “I need you to help Marcus take Annie to the car. Breathe, sweetheart.” She smiled, squeezed his hand. “This is perfectly natural.”

“Mom—don’t ever get pregnant.”

Shock widened her eyes. “Zach—”

“I mean it.”

“We’ll talk about this later, sweetheart. Now help me with Annie. Marcus—close your mouth and give me a hand.” Claire brushed windblown curls off Annie’s cheek. Her friend still stood in the puddle, staring down at the stain spreading over the front of her dress. “Annie—honey, it’s time to go.”

Annie’s head snapped up. “I ruined this beautiful dress. Oh, Claire—I ruined your wedding.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Claire framed her face. “You’re about to make me an honorary aunt, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Now, these two strong, albeit nervous men are going to help you to the car. Let them do the work, Annie. You focus on breathing.”

“What are you talking about? I can breathe just—God—” She clutched her stomach.

Claire was waiting for this, and caught her arm. Both Marcus and Zach jumped forward, supporting Annie until her contraction ended. They looked absolutely freaked out.

“Better?” Annie nodded. Claire used the edge of her veil to wipe the sweat trickling down Annie’s cheek. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Annie gripped Zach’s shoulder. Marcus took her other arm, and they half-carried her across the sand, where Eric nearly danced with impatience next to the open back door of the SUV.

“Hey, punk.” Annie smiled at Zach. “I’m okay. Thanks for keeping your cool.”

“I didn’t really—”

“You did great, Zach.” Claire gently moved him aside and slid her arm around Annie’s nonexistent waist. “You’re doing just fine, honey. Breathe like they taught you in class. Here comes Eric.”

He charged across the boardwalk, meeting them at the stairs. “Annie!”

“She’s fine, Eric.” Claire kept her voice calm. It seemed to have the same effect on Eric. He looked less frantic. “Good choice with the back door. She’s going to want to lie down.”

He reached out, taking charge of Annie. “Slow, sweetheart, just take a step at a time, and all the time you need—”

“I’m not two, Eric, I’m in pain.” She doubled over again. Claire stepped up her pace; the contractions were coming too fast.

She snatched the keys out of Eric’s hand. “We need to move. Zach—ride with Marcus. I’ll see you at the hospital.”

“Mom—”

“Go. Everything’s going to be fine. Now shoo.” He took off after Marcus, who was already running for the Jag.

“Claire, I’m so sorry.” Annie grabbed her hand. “This is your day, I don’t want to ruin—oh, damn—” She squeezed both Claire’s hand and the headrest of the passenger seat. “Too fast, Claire—God, I’m so scared.”

“I’m right here. Eric, get in the car. We’re on our way, Annie.” She closed the door and ran around to the driver’s side. “Eric—get in the car.” He blinked, and nodded, pulling the door open and all but falling inside. “Okay, kids. Here we go.”

*

C
laire banished herself from the delivery room. She still had no idea how much control she exerted over the demon, and she had shed some of the removable barriers for the wedding.

She knew the demon was still there, because her tattoo healed. Overnight. And the last of the burns on her left wrist were gone, along with the gouges in her forearm and the still raw wound from James’ sharpened cross. Not only was she healing as fast as in her prime, she felt strong, and whole, for the first time in over a year.

For now she pushed the issue aside. But it would have to be dealt with, whether Marcus wanted to or not. She had a feeling the demon was back for good.

Zach burst into the large waiting room, pale but excited, Marcus talking to him. He headed straight for Claire and lifted her off the floor in an enthusiastic hug.

“Mom—I drove the Jag!”

“That’s—great, sweetheart.” Her knees felt weak at just the thought of him behind the wheel of that powerful, dangerous car.

“It’s okay—Marcus made me stay at the speed limit. Most of the time.” He flashed a grin over at Marcus, who shrugged, an equally stupid grin on his face. Claire shook her head. Boys and their toys. They never grew up. “How’s Annie?”

“In labor.” He blinked, the last of the color draining from his face. “You can stay out here with me, if you like. Eric is with her.”

“Yeah—I think that would be best.” She had never seen him look so relieved at being stuck with her company. “Marcus?”

“I believe I will go in search of cigars, for the soon-to-be father.” Before Claire could stop him he strode out, just as half the reception came rushing in, everyone talking at once.

Theresa got to her first, clutching her hand. “How is Annie?”

“She’s doing well—almost to the end now.” Claire brushed hair off her cheek. “How are you doing?” Simon was the second person Theresa had lost in the last year, after her father died trying to stop a witch determined to take over his town.

“Okay. It hurt, hearing about Simon. But this, and you and Marcus—being a part of it helps. A lot. Thanks,” she said, wrapping her arms around Claire. “Thanks for including me.”

Surprised by the spontaneous show of emotion, since Theresa always held back in front of her, Claire returned the hug, holding on to her. “You are always welcome, sweetheart.”

“Claire!” Eric rushed in, looking frantic. He spotted her and sprinted over, pulling her away from Theresa. “Annie needs you—hell, I need you in there. She’s not happy right now.”

“Eric.” Panic shot through her. “I don’t think I should—”

“Do you think I’d ask if I even thought you’d be a threat? I trust you, with every life in there.” He started for the doorway, dragging her behind him. “We’d better get back, or Annie will haul herself off that bed and come looking for us.”

Claire had no argument for that. Since she could actually picture Annie doing it, she let Eric take her back into the delivery room. The demon had been quiet since she went over the cliff with James, but she knew it was there, behind her soul. That her friends still trusted her was more than she deserved. She was determined to be worthy of that trust.

She walked into organized chaos.

“Claire!” Annie lay on the bed, her knees already drawn up and her doctor, the unflappable Karen Meecham, sitting on a wheeled stool at the end of the bed. Annie lay on the bed, clutching the thin sheet, her curls so wet they were plastered to her head. Claire moved forward, took the hand stretched out toward her. “I don’t want to do this—I’m not ready—what if I’m a horrible mother—oh, shit—”

She cursed in between gasping breaths as she rode out another contraction. Sitting at her feet, Dr. Meecham rubbed her bare leg. “You’re doing just fine, Annie. We’re almost there. Talk to her, Claire. It will help take her mind off the pain.”

Claire leaned over, fingered sweat soaked hair off Annie’s cheek. “You and Eric are going to be the best parents. Look what you did with Zach; if you can wrangle a teenager, this will be a breeze.”

“But what about—you know.” She mouthed the word “magic” and tightened her already bone-cracking grip on Claire’s hand. “We never—damn—”

Eric sat on the other side of the bed, holding Annie’s shoulders as she curled over her stomach. “Focus on your breathing, sweetheart.” He positioned himself behind her on the bed, so she rested against his chest when the contraction let her go.

Annie dropped her head to his shoulder. “I hate you.”

With a smile, he kissed her cheek. “I know, blondie.”

Dr. Meecham stood, getting their attention. “It’s time, Annie.”

“Oh, God—I can’t do anymore—”

“Yes, you can.” Dr. Meecham took her hand, focused on her. “You are one of the strongest women I have ever met. And that is saying something, since I’ve been delivering babies for over twenty years.” Her voice brisk, she let go of Annie’s hand and moved back to the stool. “Now, let’s bring this baby into the world.”

Claire eased herself from Annie’s loosened grip and backed away. She didn’t want to take the chance. God above, she should leave now before—

“Push, Annie.”

“I can’t—”

“You’re almost there.” Dr. Meecham sat between her legs. “I can see the head. One more push. I know you can do it.”

Annie let out a scream that raised the hairs on Claire’s arms and bore down. Stunned, Claire watched the baby slip into Dr. Meecham’s waiting hands. Annie collapsed, sobbing for breath. Before Claire could panic about the baby making no sound it let out a healthy cry.

“It’s a girl.” Dr. Meecham stood. “Pull her gown away for me, Eric. I like the first meeting to be skin to skin.” Eric eased Annie’s sweat soaked gown off her chest, and Dr. Meecham stepped in, handing over their brand new daughter. “Hello, Mom—meet your future.”

Claire grinned, tears blurring her eyes. She wiped at them, in time to see both Annie and Eric bent over their baby girl.

“Hi, Elizabeth,” Annie whispered. “She’s gorgeous, Eric. Oh, God, I can’t believe you’re really here.” She kissed Elizabeth’s cheek, smiling through her tears as the baby stared up at her. “Do you think she knows I’m her mom?”

“Yeah.” Eric’s voice came out a raw whisper. He shoved hair off his forehead, tentatively reached a hand toward his daughter. “She’s so beautiful.” Eric wrapped his arm around Annie’s shoulders. “I love you, Annie.”

“Love you back.”

“All right.” Dr. Meecham’s brisk voice broke the spell. “Let’s get Elizabeth cleaned up and weighed, then she’s all yours.” She leaned over the bed and gently gathered the baby into her arms. “No arguments, Annie. It will give you time to change into a clean gown, and be ready for her. Do you have her full name?”

“Not yet—”

“Yes, we do.” Annie talked over him. Eric looked at her, waiting. And she smiled as she gave the name to Dr. Meecham. “Elizabeth Katelyn Malone.”

“Annie.” He gripped her hand. “We talked about naming her after your mom—”

“Yes. It feels right.” She cradled Eric’s cheek. “I never got to know your sister, Eric. But now our daughter can carry her name, and you will give her the memories to go with it.”

He wrapped his arms around her and just held on. Swallowing her own tears, Claire decided it was a good time to duck out.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Annie’s question stopped her at the door.

“To give the new family some privacy—”

“Not before you meet her. Now get yourself over here.”

Claire twisted her fingers together, to keep herself from touching, and moved slowly to the bed. By the time she got there Eric had Annie in a fresh nightgown, and a blanket-wrapped bundle rested in her arms.