Blade Bound (Chicagoland Vampires 13)

I shook my head. “Even if we could have a child, children are fragile.”

“Children are resilient, and our child will be immortal.”

“So we assume. But we don’t know that. Not really. We don’t know anything about the biology, how it would work. And if she’s the only one—the only vampire kid? What kind of life would that be? What kind of life would she have?”

“Where is this coming from?”

I flung a hand toward the window. “From out there. From in here. From every night we have to fight to stay alive. From wondering if that will ever end.”

“It’s not like you to be afraid.”

“It isn’t every night that I’m facing down a city that is somehow possessed with magic. Only an idiot wouldn’t be afraid.”

“Merit, it’s been a long night punctuated with fear and anger and magic. You just need sleep.” His voice was soft and kind, and that nearly brought me to tears again. I didn’t want pity or consolation; this sadness, this near grief, demanded my full attention.

“I don’t need sleep.” My voice sounded petulant even to me. And that only made me feel worse.

“Then perhaps I might have said that it’s not like you to back down in the face of fear.”

“Is that what we’d be doing? Backing down? Or just being logical?”

This time, his tone was firmer. “Nothing you’ve said is logical.”

“Don’t be condescending.”

Temper flashed in his eyes. “I am not condescending. I am expecting bravery from you. If you’re afraid, we’ll work through it. But we will not back down because of her. We will not let her destroy our family before we have a chance to begin it.”

“Nothing is certain,” I said, thinking of Gabe and Claudia. “And maybe I don’t want any more risk.”

“Then maybe you aren’t acting like the Sentinel of this House.”

I had no words for him, no possible response. I didn’t like feeling afraid, and certainly didn’t like showing that fear to him. But that didn’t seem to matter. The fear still gripped me, dark and icy, just as winter had apparently gripped the city.

We stared at each other in silence until automatic shades descended over the windows, until the sun breached the horizon.

We slept because the sun demanded it, but there was a cold gap between us.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SNOWBALL

I’d planned to go for a run at dusk, hoping the chill in the air would clear my head—and some of the tension that still lingered between Ethan and me.

Wondering what I should wear—how bundled I’d need to be against Sorcha’s chill—I pushed back one heavy curtain. And stared at the canvas of white that glowed beneath a clear, dark sky.

“Ethan.”

He was already dressed, was flipping through the Tribune. He moved behind me, and I heard the catch in his breath when he realized what we were facing.