Reign of Night (Thorne Hill 7)

“She didn’t know how to be a vampire, and as much as I didn’t want to feel for her, I did.”

“Romantically?” I ask, needing to be sure.

“No. I’ve never felt that way about her. I cared for her like a daughter, and the thought of something bad happening to her was awful. I knew you felt bonded to any progeny you make, but I didn’t know just how strong the bond would be with her. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if she too was killed by her father or if she burned in the sunlight because she didn’t know how to find shelter. I went back, and instead of being happy to see me, she was angry.” He smiles. “Very angry.”

“Shocker,” I chuckle. “She told me she tried to hate you.”

“She did, and I think I made it easy when I didn’t return her feelings of attraction. She couldn’t help them, as many progenies are attracted to their sire in that sense. Over time, our relationship became what it is, and I will always view her as my child.”

“She’s going to be a good big sister, though I do take her for the jealous type.”

Lucas laughs softly. “Only a little.” He slips his hands, warmer now from the heated blanket, under my sweater. “What happened at lunch?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.”

I lift my head off his chest. “Remember how I said I thought Tabatha knew something about my mother but wasn’t telling me?”

“I do.”

“I was right, and she fessed up today. She said my mother was Callista Lancaster, hailing from an old and established line of witches on the East Coast. And she said that my mother…my mother was excommunicated for practicing Satanism.”

“Fuck.”

“Right?” I shake my head. “Maybe I should stop looking for answers. The more I ask, the more I wonder, and the answers I have gotten are less than satisfactory. It felt so good to know my mother was a witch. But now…I wish I didn’t know. I had her on a pedestal in my mind, and now the pedestal has been knocked over and broken into a million pieces. The other angels don’t think I should live because I could be too easily tainted with darkness. If my mother was already dabbling, then doesn’t that mean—”

“Callie, stop, my love. Who your mother was has nothing to do with who you are. I know you want to find out about that side of you, but it won’t change anything. You could actually be related to the Martins and it wouldn’t change a damn thing about you. And you know my feelings on fate.”

“You don’t believe in it.”

“Not until you. But, Callie, if you are meant to find out more about your mother, you will. Just remember, it won’t change anything,” he repeats. “You are you. My wife. The mother of my child. And concernedly obsessed with Christmas.”

“Just wait until my cheesy Advent calendar arrives.” I look up at Lucas, smiling and feeling much better. Because he’s right. The only thing changing who I am is me, and it doesn’t matter what my mother did—or didn’t do—in her past. I’m not going to stop wanting to know more about her, but I won’t go looking anymore.

Lucas pulls me onto his lap so I’m straddling him, keeping the heated blanket around my shoulders. He kisses me and puts a hand on my stomach. “We are less than a month until Christmas, and we have a lot to celebrate this year. Try not to worry, and let’s enjoy this time together as a family. We both know this is the calm before the storm.”

“Are you talking about demons or the baby being born?”

He slips his hand to my waist, pulling me closer. “Both, but we both know one is going to come before the other.”Chapter 8“I come bearing gifts!” I set bags of candy on the counter of the bookstore. Our winter window display that was up for most of January is coming down next week, and we’re putting together a “cuddle up with a book boyfriend” themed display now for Valentine’s Day, which is coming up fast in just a few weeks.

“Perfect!” Kristy says, looking in the bags. “I also thought we could set up some sort of Instagram background for people to pose against, holding their favorite romance novel. I have to come up with some sort of hashtag for them to use.”

“I love that idea!” I pull off my gloves and unzip my coat. It’s bitterly cold today, with a windchill below zero. “Maybe Betty could set up some sort of contest on social media, so we can get tons of people participating and using the hashtag.”

“Ohhh, yes, and Betty would love that! Maybe we can get some signed books to give away! Did you see how many more followers we gained on our Instagram account?”