Forever (Book #3 in the Fateful Series) (33 page)

Danielle valiantly tried to hide the fear in her eyes, but he’d seen it anyway. Ethan felt his mouth tighten, his fingers curl into fists. “That bloody miscreant! I’m sorry I never told you.”

“No,” she said. Her fingers touched his chest. His hand came up and kept the caress pressed to his heart as little shocks of pleasure rode his fury, soothing it. “Don’t be. I’m glad you didn’t tell me. And, thank you.”

“For what?” He didn’t deserve her gratitude when this might not have ever happened if he’d handled Lucas differently, killed him before he’d become a vampire.

“For not telling me. You knew me well enough to know I
wouldn’t
want to know. And for being so incredibly possessive and overprotective you
wouldn’t
believe me, or let me leave you when the witches made us lie.”

A low sound of amusement rumbled in his chest at the odd comment. “You’re thanking me for that?” he asked in utter disbelief.

Her expression turned serious. “It gave me hope.”

Ethan didn’t know what to say to that, so he again steered the conversation to things still worrying him. “You fought with Lucas, then.” She hadn’t explained how she’d been bruised up, and he needed to know if he was going to correctly determine her medical needs without letting her see Dr. Deveroux. “He’s the one who did this to you.” Carefully holding her chin between his fingers, he turned her face, letting his gaze travel over the damage on both sides even though it made him want to dig up the already dead Lucas and murder him again.

“He attacked. I defended myself.”

That still wasn’t enough information, so he more narrowly focused his query. “Where did he hit you, Danielle? I need to know.”

She sighed, and he understood that she’d recognized his intent, but she didn’t say anything about it. Touching each location, her cheekbone, jaw, ribs, hip and left thigh, she said, “I
feel
fine, I promise.” When he just blinked at her, a muscle along his jaw jumping as his lips thinned, she added, “You’re worried about internal damage, aren’t you?”

The fact that she knew him so well never surprised him. “I—I know what he’s capable of.”

A tension-drenched quiet saturated the room. Ethan knew she absolutely hated doctors, but he had to get her the medical attention she needed. He couldn’t risk losing another baby. Raising an eyebrow, he offered a concession. “An x-ray and an ultrasound, and then I’ll drop it.”

Danielle deflated, but surprised him when she said, “Okay.”

Ethan blinked. “What?”

“I don’t want to lose this baby either.”

“How sure are you that you’re pregnant?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Can we get you to a hospital now?” he asked.

“
Right now
?”

Hearing the nervousness in her question, Ethan exhaled. She was still terrified of doctors and hospitals, but he could also see that she was trying very hard to be brave for him. “Very well. But not much later.”

Her eyes widened with sudden excitement. “Are there vampires outside?”

“Uh, yes.” He thought of Cedric, Richard, and Merrick, but couldn’t figure out why she wanted them.

“Do you remember when Sophia listened to our baby last time? And how she’d been able to hear the baby’s heartbeat even during the day?”

Ethan gasped. “Right! Even when the curse was weak, and you weren’t far along.” Lunging to his feet, Ethan ran for the door and wrenched it open. His eyes landed on Merrick first. “You! Come here!”

“What is it?” Merrick asked, clearly worried by Ethan’s actions as he moved forward.

Ethan grabbed a handful of the vampire’s shirt and tugged him toward his wife.

“Is something wrong?” Merrick asked, following without resistance.

Pointing at Danielle’s stomach, Ethan snapped, “Listen!”

“Huh?”

“To the baby, you dimwit!”

Danielle leaned up and reached for the Highland knight’s hand. When Merrick’s gaze touched hers, the annoyance at Ethan’s overzealous behavior softened in his expression. “Oh.” Still letting her hold his hand, he dropped to his knees. “The wee baerin?”

As Richard and Cedric joined them, Ethan realized they’d guarded Danielle so closely when she’d been pregnant the first time that they had probably grown attached to the idea of the baby, and felt the same sense of loss when she’d been stabbed by Dorin. “Can we all listen?” asked Richard, proving his theory.

The three men took turns listening to her belly and each one confirmed that the he or she had a perfectly healthy heartbeat. Sitting down on the bed quickly, Ethan managed to hide the fact he was about to collapse in relief.

As the vampires again left them alone, Ethan caught a hint of what he perceived as jealousy for
his
mortal life that he’d never witnessed before. There were definite advantages to being mortal, and perhaps deep down the big bad vampires recognized it. Setting that aside, Ethan took Danielle back into his arms as gratitude filled him, and he silently thanked God for taking care of her, for taking care of their baby, for blessing him with this precious thing that could only come to mortal men.

Her breath brushed against his neck when she asked, “Do your dreams have volume now too?”

He jerked backward to catch her gaze with his. “You can hear what we’re saying?”

“You can’t?”

He shook his head, a little jealous and definitely confused. The fact that he’d eaten the cherries first must have added volume to her dreams and not his. The fairies had said something about them both needing to consume them. He shoved a hand into his pocket, hoping the fruits hadn’t been squashed. Relief swamped him when he found they were only bruised a bit, but still whole. “The fairies gave me these. I ate mine, so I suppose this is what added volume to your dreams.”

With eyes widening at the way she snatched them up, plucked the plump purple fruit free of the stems and leaves, and devoured them, he asked, “I take it they didn’t feed you well?”

“Only breakfast,” she answered around a mouthful of fruit.

Feeling his teeth clench in anger, he scanned the room for something else to sustain her.

“Oh,” she groaned in pleasure, “these are so good. Are there more?” Her fingers were instantly searching his pocket.

“I’m sorry, love, that’s all they gave me.”

Her shoulders slumped as her tongue slid along her bottom lip, seeking any residual juice. He had to fix this, but first, he had to know. “Tell me why? Why were you crying in the dreams?”

She swallowed and blinked. “We knew that we’d be born into this life more than a century apart.”

An enormous sigh of relief left his lungs, puffing against her face, moving the hair hanging across her forehead. Her distress hadn’t been his fault. “Why hadn’t I thought of that?” It was so simple, actually. Because that was what had happened—they’d been born into different eras and feared they’d never make it back to one another.

Redirecting his thoughts to Danielle’s hunger, Ethan’s eyes landed on a tray lying on a small table in the center of the room, and he realized the warlock had mentioned it before he’d left them alone. Ethan had been so concerned for Danielle, he really hadn’t taken the time to study his surroundings, or listen to the man’s words. As he moved to collect the offering of tea and biscuits for Danielle, he let his gaze pass over the small room. From the dried bunches of herbs and flowers hung from the rafters, and the glass bottles filled with odd-looking things, Ethan gathered that this was a witches’ dwelling—a basic one, without electricity or convenience. From an iron rack near the fire hung a variety of different pots and pans. Clearly the fire was the only available stove. It was hard to believe they chose to live so simply in such a modern world. The other witches hadn’t lived like this at all in that enormous mansion they had.

Listening to Danielle crunch at the biscuits, he prepared a cup of tea for her. It wasn’t her favorite peach, but a simple chamomile. Even so, he knew she was probably hungry enough to not complain about it. Stirring in about four lumps of sugar because he knew she liked it sweet, he watched her. His heart swelled with how great it was to finally have her back, and safe, but his smile wilted when he remembered that even though they had escaped, they hadn’t exactly stopped all of the things hunting her. Pixies would still want to turn her into one of them. Some witches would still want to take something from her, and mermaids could still have some dark purpose he didn’t know about yet. Ethan suspected he never would know, unless they managed to get their wet fingers on her again. What were they going to do now?

Seeing that the sugar was sufficiently dissolved, Ethan handed her the teacup.

Watching her lift the edge of the teacup to her mouth, Ethan realized with a start, that Danielle was watching him even more closely than he’d been watching her.

Her eyes touched on the tears in his clothing and the cut on his cheek. “Did the pixies hurt you?”

“The wretched little things dumped us in the trees.”

It was her turn to gasp.

“It’s all right, we got down without injury.”

“They’re still going to hunt me, aren’t they?” Danielle shuddered. “I hate pixies.”

Before he could answer, the door opened and Little Red entered. Her rounded hips swayed as she moved forward. She fiddled nervously with a strand of her long red locks like she had something important to say, but feared his reaction to whatever it might be. “We might be able to help you with that.”

She’d been right; he didn’t want to hear that. There was no bloody way he was moving here for safety. “Thanks, but the fairies couldn’t—”

“You’ll be able to stay in your own home this time. We’ll join our magic with the fairies’ and Lilith’s. We do know Lilith, in case you were wondering. No one will be able to take her again.”

“How can you promise that?”

Her light-green eyes rounded with excitement as she began searching the bottled ingredients as though looking for something she needed for the potion she was referring to. “Can’t you imagine how impenetrable the magic of three would be?” Not looking at him, she lifted one jar and peered at the contents. “This is just the thing to help.” Holding the clear-glass bottle out for him to see the slimy-looking, blue contents, she announced with a wicked smirk curving her pouty pink mouth. “Pixie guts.” At that moment she looked more like a witch to him than before.

Danielle gagged, the sound drawing his gaze. She spied the pixie gore with two hands covering her mouth. Ethan shifted his position to block her view.

“Little Red, please. My wife—”

Shoving the offending bottle behind her back, she muttered, “Sorry.”

Checking on Danielle again, Ethan was relieved she’d held onto her small meal of tea and biscuits, but she’d lost a bit of color. “Shall we step outside and discuss this further?” he offered because Little Red had sparked his curiosity with her offer. He’d give almost anything to return even an ounce of normalcy to their future.

That day, they gathered the magical beings together while Little Red produced a potion that smelled a lot like spoiled apples and asked them to drink it after Lilith, the witches, and the fairies had combined their magical ingredients. Ethan was the first to test it, and it tasted like fishy apples spiced heavily with ginger and cumin, as well as sweetened with honey to make it taste better. He supposed it had worked well enough since Danielle was able to get it down without tossing up the contents of her stomach.

Little Red had been right. They’d been able to return to their home in England and, not only that, they’d been able to resume their movie and fine-dining outings as well,
without
bodyguards lurking beside each doorway or following them everywhere they went. For Ethan, that was easily the best part. How the spell had worked, Ethan didn’t have a clue, but he didn’t bloody well care either. All he cared about was for them to be free to live a quiet and peaceful life. Correction ... that was almost his only care ... well, not really. The pregnancy was definitely the best part, if he was to be honest. Ethan’s heart swelled with a full dose of pride, a satisfying measure of contentment, and an eagerness he couldn’t contain with the swelling of Danielle’s stomach as their child grew. He’d spent literally hours of time holding her while he felt for movement, his hand roving over her while seeking each jump. Every time his little one pushed out against the palm of his hand, his smile grew until he wondered if the expression was now a permanent part of his features.