Reign of Night (Thorne Hill 7)

“I think I feel her moving again,” I tell Lucas, smile taking over my face. I rest my hand on top of his.

“I feel something, too.”

I press his hand a little harder against me, and there’s a definite feeling of something moving inside me. “Do you feel that?” I ask him.

“I do,” he says, looking away from the road again. “It’s our daughter, Callie.”

“Fuck,” I grumble, blinking away tears. “It’s real now, isn’t it? I mean, it’s been real since I peed on that stick and that positive sign showed up, but she’s growing and I wasn’t sure if she would,” I confess.

“You didn’t think she would?”

I shake my head, worried I’ll start crying if I talk.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to make you upset,” I croak out. “I’m not human, Lucas.”

“Don’t keep anything from me for my expense, my love,” he says gently. “I am here for you, and I told you, you’re not going through this alone. I am here, in every way I can be. Tell me your worries and your fears. Tell me your frustrations and annoyances.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“I’m not,” he tells me, taking my hand. “I’ll never be enough, no matter what you say.”

And now I’m losing my battle with tears, and it doesn’t help that we start talking about how we want to celebrate our first wedding anniversary the rest of the way to Chicago. Traffic isn’t too terrible, and I was right about Lucas using the valet parking so we don’t have to walk in the cold.

My surprise reservation is at a fancy French restaurant, one we’ve planned on going to but have had to cancel because of demons. I can tell right away this place is expensive, and the hostess checks Lucas out not once but twice on her way to take us to our table. I can’t really blame her, though. Lucas was an impressive specimen of a human man, and the fact that he’s nearly two thousand years old is alluring, drawing you in before you realize why.

I order sparkling cranberry juice instead of wine and look at the appetizer menu, needing Lucas to translate it for me. He leans in, taking both my hands in his.

“Order for me,” I tell him, lacing our fingers together. “I’ll butcher whatever I try to say.”

“What do you want?”

“Surprise me again. But if it has a lot of carbs and cheese, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“Carbs,” Lucas echoes and looks at the menu. It hits me that he has no idea what food are high in carbs, and the last time he ate human food, people probably didn’t know about carbs and proteins and eating specific amounts of either.

“Pasta,” I say with a laugh. “And bread. Those are carbs.”

“So you’ll like the croque monsieur, then. It’s a pastry with cheese.”

“Heck yes. I want that. And please tell me it serves two so I can eat both my share and yours. And don’t tell me how eating for two isn’t really eating for two. I know, but I really want cheesy bread now.”

Lucas’s lips curve into a smile, and he leans over the table, going in for a kiss. Then he suddenly stops, jerking his head to the side. Nostrils flaring, he smells them the moment before I see them, but fuck, there they are: Nancy and William Martin.Chapter 11My fingers tighten around Lucas’s hand, and I shift my eyes from him to the Martins and back again. It’s then I know I have a decision to make, one that will change the course of the evening. Lucas and I are out together, having a good time and excitedly talking about the future and not demons. Lucas put thought into our date tonight, and I need a fucking night off.

The last time I saw Nancy was at Thorne Hill’s trick-or-treating event, when she tagged along with Abby and Penny saying she didn’t want to miss her granddaughter’s first time trick-or-treating. I’m sure that was true, but I’m also sure another part was her wanting to come and creep on me. And I know that’s the only reason my asshole former brother showed up. I completely ignored Nancy that night, and it felt good. I didn’t waste my time engaging with her or Scott. I focused on the night and had a nice time.

Well, until a scrapper demon ran into the road and dented my poor Jeep.

And William…I haven’t seen him since I accidentally transfigured Scott into a cat, and I still regret not taking him to the vet to get neutered. Seeing him used to make me crippled with anxiety. I’d feel like that little girl once again, scared and helpless, crying in the waiting room of what I was told was a doctor’s office. I knew it then, even though I was young, and didn’t want to believe it.