Julian gave me that power-binding potion as a one-time use, but maybe, just maybe, I should ask him for more.Chapter 17“I just don’t know.” I bite my lip and shake my head. “It’s such a hard decision.”
“I’m sure you’ll make the right choice,” Lucas says, hand landing on my thigh as the car speeds along the highway. Binx, who is sitting at my side, rubs against me to let me know that he too feels I’ll come to the right choice.
“But what if I don’t?” I look at Lucas with wide eyes as I run one hand over Binx’s sleek fur. “What if I regret it?” Letting out an exasperated sigh, I look back at my phone. “I just had pizza when Easton and Melinda were here a few days ago, but it’s not like I have legit Chicago-style pizza very often. And I have real Chicago-style hotdogs even less.”
“Order both,” Lucas tells me, trying to keep the amusement off his face. We’re maybe ten minutes from the city, and I’ve been debating what to order for lunch for most of our drive. “And eat the other later. It could be a while before we get into a room in the ER. You’ll be hungry later.”
“True, and I think I’m going to go with the hotdog, but I’ll have to microwave it before I can eat it so it’s not contaminated with listeria. While it’s cooling, I can have some pizza. Fuck, I’m going to gain a million pounds.”
Lucas laughs. “The baby is growing, and you’re supposed to gain weight.”
“Not a million pounds.”
He gives my thigh a squeeze. “You’re not going to gain a million pounds. Your breasts have gotten bigger and you’re showing, but you haven’t gained weight anywhere else. And you consumed more calories than the average human before. You need even more now.”
“True.” I put my hand on my stomach, feeling Elena flip around. Hearing Lucas call her by name last night cemented it for us both, and there’s no going back. Elena King is our baby.
“What do you think?” I ask Binx, and he tells me to order both as well. He’ll help me eat whatever is delivered. “Good choice,” I tell him and put in an order with Uber Eats to deliver both a Chicago-style hotdog with fries as well as a pizza, which should arrive shortly after we get to the Lincoln Park house.
“She’s doing somersaults.” I move Lucas’s hand from my thigh to my stomach.
“She must like the car,” Lucas says and revs the engine, speeding around a semi-truck. He took the McLaren today, saying it was a “special occasion” and we deserved to travel in style. I had to enchant the windows to keep the harmful rays of the sun out, and Lucas grumbled for a good twenty minutes nonstop about how his car smells “like sage and magic instead of leather.” Not even Eliza could roll her eyes hard enough at that.
“She doesn’t care about the car.” I look at Binx and roll my eyes. He doesn’t care about the car, either, and is only riding with me to oblige me. He can easily shadow his way from Thorne Hill to Chicago and go completely unnoticed, as he’s done more than once.
“She likes going fast, then.” He pulls up my shirt up and rubs my stomach. His hand are cold but will warm up quickly.
“We need to pick a middle name.” I rest my hand on top of his.
“Do we, though? I don’t have a middle name.”
“Were middle names a thing back when you were born?”
“The aristocratic Romans had three names. I did not. King wasn’t the surname I was born with. You knew that, didn’t you?”
“No, this is news to me, and I’m not sure if it’s going to put me into an existential crisis or not. You’re not Lucas King?”
“I am, legally. When I registered as a vampire, I had to put down a last name. King felt fitting.”
I look at Lucas, blinking. “You named yourself Lucas King because it felt fitting?”
“Yes.”
I blink a few more times and then laugh. “It is fitting. You are a king amongst vampires.”
“And every king needs his queen.” He looks at me, sexy smirk on his face. “And an heir.”
“I am the unofficial Queen of Hell.”
“That would be hot if it wasn’t so…so dangerous for you both.” He pulls my shirt back and puts both hands back on the steering wheel. “You would look good in a crown, which reminds me, I have one I’ll get for you.”
“You have a crown?”
“Yes, from seventeenth-century Spain. It was a gift from a queen.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. “Hold the phone. What? You just have a crown lying around?”
“It’s preserved in storage.”
“Like a real crown?”
“Yes. I did a favor for the royal family and was given the tiara along with other jewels.”