“This is the blanket that Terry was wrapped in when the nuns brought her to me.” Beverly held the blanket up and Lily saw the Good Samaritan Hospital stamp across the back.
“Nuns? Don’t you mean nurses?”
Beverly shook her head. “No, sweetie. They were nuns.” She lifted her eyes, and they were full of nostalgia and regret. “We never told her, or you.” She paused. “Terry was adopted.”
Lily was speechless, but her face must have spoken volumes because Beverly’s crumpled a bit.
“Oh, honey, I don’t defend not telling her. We always thought the right moment would present itself, that we had all the time in the world to find a way to break it to her gently.” Beverly’s eyes misted over, and her voice cracked. “I even wrote her a letter. I bet you think that’s pretty chicken shit, huh?”
Lily just blinked. Hadn’t she used those same exact words to chastise herself for not calling? Guess emotional avoidance was a learned behavior. In this family, anyway.
Except for Terry…
Beverly reached into the trunk and pulled out a flat rectangular jewelry box. She lifted the lid and took out a small stack of papers and official looking envelopes. “It’s in here, along with her adoption papers,” she said, handing Lily the stack. Lily took them from her hand and placed them on the carpet next to her.
“Can I see that for a moment?” she asked, extending her hand toward the receiving blanket.
Beverly nodded. To anyone else it may have seemed an odd request, but not in this house. The girls had kept Lily’s secret just between them until they graduated from college. When they decided to open a paranormal investigation company, they knew the idea would raise more than just eyebrows. Beverly and Carl were going to want an explanation. And boy did they get one.
Lily took the blanket from Beverly’s hand. The woman’s grief, mixed with her apprehension at what Lily might see, passed along, as well.
She gave the woman a reassuring smile, and then closed her eyes, wrapping her fingers around the faded fabric. Images formed slowly, incongruous at first. Lily focused her concentration on Terry’s essence, her strong life force, willing the hazy images to clear and align.
Frames resembling an editor’s reel, choppy and flickering, played across her mind—a woman straining, her feet in stirrups, nurses by her head and one next to the doctor at her feet, counting down the contraction time.
“Push Teresa…come on, work for your baby. One more big push!” Lily’s lips curled in a soft smile as she watched the scene play out. “It’s a girl,” the doctor said, as the baby slipped into his hand, covered in blood and a white, cheeselike substance. Wailing, her tiny puckered face turned red and purple as nurses took her, cleaned her and wrapped her in a blanket, before placing her in her mother’s arms. “Seven pounds, two ounces and nineteen inches long. She’s perfect. But don’t get too comfortable, Mommy, you’ve got one more to go!”
The mother placed a kiss on the baby’s head, but her weak smile suddenly turned agonized as an unexpected contraction tore through her. Her back arched, and she screamed, blood gushing from between her legs.
“Take the baby!” the doctor yelled.
“Christ, that was fast…” one of the nurses said, but before she could finish her sentence, another painful contraction hit right on top of the previous one.
Nurses scrambled back and forth, one taking the first baby, and the other trying to keep the mother quiet and immobile.
“Keep her still,” the doctor commanded.
“Teresa, I know it hurts, but you need to stay calm so Doctor Bennett can see what’s happening. Squeeze my hand, small breaths…”
“My baby! Save my baby!”
“The placenta separated, she’s hemorrhaging,” Bennett said, pushing the instrument table aside, shouting instructions to the nurses.
“Blood pressure is 60/40 and dropping,” one of the nurses said. “Respiration weak and thready. FHR variable.
“Start an I.V… saline, lactated ringers and get an oxygen mask on her! Call the O.R.! Tell them we’re on our way, stat! Tell them to have a supply of O Negative ready…and somebody notify the NICU. You—get that other baby to the nursery!”
“She’s crashing! I can’t find a pulse!”
“We’re losing her! Move people, move!
Lily opened her eyes and exhaled, her fingers relaxing their hold on the blanket.
“What did you see?” Beverly asked, unease lacing her tone at Lily’s daunted expression.
Not sure where to begin, Lily folded the blanket and placed it on the floor next to her. “Bev, did the adoption agency ever tell you Terry was a twin?”
“What?”
The look of disbelief on Beverly’s face said it all, and Lily simply nodded. “Based on what I just saw, it’s true. Although I can only assume the other baby died along with Terry’s birth mother. I believe her name was, Teresa.”
Beverly’s hand went to her mouth. “It’s true then.” Hands shaking, she picked up one of the envelopes from where Lily had put them on the floor next to her. Opening it, she removed a sheet of paper and unfolded it, handing it to Lily. “Terry’s birth mother’s name was Teresa Garcia.”
The paper had everything listed—birth date, weight, height, ethnicity, the record of the mother’s death and the medical explanation why: Blood loss due to placenta abruptio—everything, except a father’s name and no mention of it being a multiple birth. There was no next of kin listed either, so perhaps it wasn’t something included on the birth record if the twin didn’t survive.
Beverly looked numb, and Lily reached out to take her hand. “I don’t know Bev, but based on what I saw, neither Teresa nor the other baby survived. Terry was lucky to be born first, it’s the reason she lived.”
Tears dripped down Beverly’s cheeks. “I’m just grateful we were there for her. I don’t want to think about what life would have been like if we weren’t.”
Lily pulled her into a hug, but didn’t say another word. A sense of peace settled over her, knowing Terry’s biological mother had loved her and wanted her, and what happened was just a sad turn of fate. Somehow, she knew Terry knew it too.
“Knock, knock…” Carl said, standing in the doorway. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving. Can we take a detour off memory lane for a bit and have a late lunch?”
Beverly wiped her face, and sucked in a deep breath, holding it for a moment. “Perfect timing,” she said. “I think we could all use a break.”
Lily put her hands on her thighs and sat back. “Sounds like a great idea. I have dinner plans later tonight, so a late lunch would be perfect.”
“You have dinner plans?” Beverly asked, wiping her nose with a tissue she fished out from her shirt cuff. “You never eat out unless it’s those dirty water dogs from the cart vendor on the corner. Does this mean you’ve met someone?”
Lily laughed. “Nice. You make me sound like a social misfit. I do have a life, you know—but, yes, I did meet someone—although I’m not having dinner with him tonight. My plans are with a friend.”
“A friend, huh?” Carl chimed in, waggling his eyebrows. “Maybe we just might get a chance at grandkids yet, Bev.”
Rolling her eyes, Lily made a face. “Seriously, guys?”
Carl crossed his arms in front of his chest and glanced at Beverly, neither moved, their expressions letting Lily know they weren’t budging until she gave them details.
“All right, since you’ll only bug me from now until forever, his name is Sean. He’s from Maine. But if you must know, things are kind of up in the air for us right now. I don’t want to get into it, but my life is pretty complicated at the moment. Adding a long distance relationship on top of everything else—well, let’s just say we’re taking it day by day,” she said with a shrug.
Carl flashed a warm smile then winked, before sticking his hand out to help Beverly up off the floor. “That’s the best any of us can do, sweetheart. Take things day by day.”
Beverly slid her free hand around Lily’s waist, and gave her a squeeze. “You’ll figure it out, honey. I have faith in you. And when you’re ready to introduce your young man to your family, we’ll be here.”
They turned to walk out, and Beverly let go, her hand trailing in Lily’s as they stepped through the door.
Words sprang to mind from nowhere, probably from some long forgotten English class. Beauty is truth, truth beauty—that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. Nevertheless, in that moment they rang true as Lily watched her parents, together.
“I love you guys,” she murmured from behind.
Carl grunted. “Yeah, yeah, we love you too. Can we eat now, please?”
Lily threw her head back and laughed. Things had changed, but then again they hadn’t. Terry would always be with them and Jack was right. It would be enough, as long as she allowed it.
Chapter Seven
“I’m back!” Lily called from the hallway, dropping her keys on the credenza against the wall next to the closet.
“I’m in the kitchen,” Jack answered, above the clatter of dishes and the sound of the refrigerator door opening. “How’d it go?”
She hung up her coat and stopped in the kitchen doorway, Jack’s butt greeting her as it peeked out from behind the open refrigerator door. “Are you cleaning the shelves or just taking inventory?” she said, leaning on the doorjamb and crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Poking his head up, he flashed a quick smile. “None of the above,” he said, closing the door with his foot, his hands full of sandwich fixings. “By the way you’re looking at me, I guess everything went okay today.”
“Yeah, everything went fine,” she answered, shaking her head as she watched his elaborate set up at the kitchen counter. Eight slices of bread, stacks of pickles, lettuce and tomato were all paired neatly across the Formica. “Jack, what are you doing?”
“I’m hungry,” he answered with his mouth full.
“I can see that,” she said, as he peeled off layers of sliced turkey and stuffed his mouth, while at the same time, piling thick layers onto four slices of bread. “Is this your way of telling me, you don’t want to go out for dinner tonight?”
“Depends on where you’re taking me.”
Lily smirked. His back was turned, but she knew his face held the same wry smile, despite the soft rustle of plastic wrap as he wrapped and unwrapped.
“We’re going to Peter Lugar’s. It’s one of the best steakhouses in the city. Well, actually, it’s in Brooklyn, but it’s the best.”
“Terrific. I can’t wait,” he mumbled, turning around and shoving half a sandwich into his mouth.
Lily grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “Tell me the truth, are you really that hungry, or are you just bored? Because you’ve been doing nothing but eat, lately.”
“You make me sound like a chick with PMS,” he said, taking a sip from his own water bottle. He took another bite of sandwich, shoving a stray piece of pickle into his mouth, and chewing slowly.
“This city of yours may not be much in terms of fresh air, but it certainly has its diversions.” Tilting his bottle of water her way, he winked. “So, definitely not bored.”
Waving her hand at him, she shook her head. “Let’s not go there, okay? I don’t need to know what diversions you’ve found to keep yourself busy.” Cracking her bottle of water open, she considered him. “Could it be because tonight’s the first night of the full moon? I mean, you’ve been cooped up here with only me for company, and let’s face it, I’m not much fun when it comes to Were-related activities.”
He chuckled. “You could be...”
“Jack…”
“I’m just saying. Sean would supply the right bite in a heartbeat if you said the word.”
“Yeah, well. Let’s not go there, either,” she said dryly, placing her water bottle on the table.
She glanced back up as Jack stacked the last two sandwiches together and took a couple of bites. Just the mental image of lengthy incisors left her shivering, and she unconsciously slid her hand around the back of her shoulder where Sean had marked her.
The spot tingled under her fingers, and a rush of warmth spread through her lower belly. Lily pictured him in her mind. His blue eyes as they burned with desire, his long, lean body and wide shoulders, and the way the smooth, hard muscles of his chest and belly felt under her fingers. In that moment, her body craved his and the miles between them suddenly seemed like vast oceans.
What was it he’d said about the full moon and uncontrollable urges? The sky was dark, but the moon was absent from its blackness. Moonrise was still hours off, yet here she was panting on the inside like a bitch in heat. How was she going to get through this so far away from Sean?
Jack’s eyes were on hers as he finished eating, watching as if he could smell her inner arousal. He cleared his voice and wiped his hands on a napkin.
“I don’t know if the moon has anything to do with my excess appetite,” he said, deftly shifting the conversation to neutral, and away from the dangerous ground they both sensed. “Could be, but I don’t really have a frame of reference. I’ve never been away from the pack during a full moon.”
Grateful for Jack’s tact, Lily exhaled, stilling her mind and pulling herself together.
“Back home, the Hunter’s usually go for a run on the first night,” he continued. “…and Sean likes to include a ritual hunt at some point during the cycle. I missed last month’s because Sean had me and a couple of other newbies helping out at the research clinic. With the viral outbreak and the panic afterward, the nurses needed us to help keep things moving smoothly, although Doc Volkmann seemed to want us there about as much as we did.”
Residual tension throbbed between her shoulders and Lily rubbed at the nape of her neck, careful not to graze the edge of Sean’s bite mark, again. “So you’ve been stuck doing grunt work rather than joining in the fun, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say grunt work, but yes, Sean put our skills on ice at times. A shifter needs to exercise his inner animal, or else…” His eyes wandered the length of her, from the top of her honey-blonde head, over the swell of her breasts, to her feet and back again. “…he suffers.”
“Ah, Jack?” she said, taking a step backward. Either she was right, and he had sensed her passing spike in heat, or she wasn’t the only one affected by the approaching moonrise.
He exhaled, rubbing his face with both hands. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Or at least I will be. Give me a big, juicy steak, the rarer the better, and I’ll be right as rain. That and a quick jog before we go,” he said, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.
Lily moved out of his way as he went past. “All right, but be back in an hour. Our reservations are for eight-thirty, and they won’t hold them if we’re late.”
With a quick wave over his head, he was out the door. Lily turned back to the counter to wrap up what was left of Jack’s sandwich mess. If this was the first night of the full moon, what was in store for her over the next two days?
***
As expected, the restaurant was crowded. Weeknight or not, it didn’t matter, Peter Lugar’s was a landmark, almost as famous for their gleaming wood interiors and true gentleman’s bar, as they were for their porterhouse steaks.
They walked in from the street, and a wall of warmth, thick with delicious scents, met them by the coat check. Busy wait staff carried trays back and forth from the kitchen to the dining rooms, the sizzle of steak following in their wake.
Jack handed Lily’s long, leather duster to the coat check, and then met her next to the hostess stand. Inhaling through his nose, he raised his chin, a silly
smile on his face. “You get thumbs up on this one,” he said. “My mouth is watering already.”
“Good, because I had to call in a favor to get us this reservation.”
The maître d' coughed, and then raised his arm gesturing toward the stairs. “Your table isn’t quite ready yet. Please, feel free to wait in the private bar upstairs, and we’ll call you when all is prepared.”
Lily winked at the man, and then followed Jack up to the bar to wait. Sometimes being psychic had its advantages.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, as Lily slid onto the smooth, high-backed leather stool.
“Merlot, please,” she answered, placing her bag on the counter.
Jack grinned, swiveling his seat around to face hers. “Hair of the dog, huh?”
Hmmph. “Not even close. And the whole canine thing is your gig, not mine. Remember?”
“Ha. You just keep telling yourself that,” he said, swiveling back around to face the bar, signaling the bartender with a quick lift of his chin. “I’ll have a Sam Adams. Winter Lager if you have it.”
The bartender nodded, giving Lily a quick wink before he went to get their drinks.
“What’s with all the winking? First the guy at the door, and now the bartender, do you know these people, or is this just part of your natural charm?”
The bartender put two napkins down on the counter and then placed Jack’s beer on one, and a red wine glass for Lily on the other.” You want a frosted glass with that?” he asked while pouring Lily’s wine.
“No, I’m good with the bottle.”
The man nodded once, putting the cork back in the bottle of merlot. “I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said to Jack, gesturing toward Lily with his head. “Your friend here is a very special lady. She really saved our ass last year, if you’ll excuse my language.”
Jack looked from one to the other, his eyebrows high.
The bartender put his hand up, his face as serious as a heart attack. “You have no idea. I never believed in that sort of thing, you know, ghosts and whatnot. At least not until I got the royal shit scared out of me one night after closing. From that point on, to say things got creepy around here is an understatement. Whatever it was, spirit, entity…whatever…it raised unholy hell almost every night after closing, so much so, the owners didn’t know what to do. We all thought they should call in an exorcist, but they didn’t want to risk bad press.”
The Cursed by Blood Saga Page 26
