by L.H. Cosway
“I felt that one.”
“It’s crazy. I’m not even that far gone.”
“You’re thinking about this in human terms. Since you’re only going to be pregnant for three months, you are much further along than you think.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Yes, wow,” Ethan beams and pulls my face to his for a kiss.
I break it saying, “I need to ask you something.”
“Ask me anything.”
“Okay…what do you think about Rebecca living with us, like, permanently?”
“I think that’s a big decision. What happened to you finding her birth mother?”
I shake my head sadly. “That’s a dead end.”
There’s understanding in Ethan’s gaze when he replies, “She can stay with us then.”
I glance up quickly. “You mean it?”
“Of course I mean it.”
Without thinking I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as I possibly can. “Thank you,” I whisper, emotion catching in my throat before I quietly go on, “And if I don’t survive the birth, you’ll still keep her with you, right?”
His eyes grow dark and intense when he replies, “You’re going to survive.”
“Just promise me, Ethan, for my own peace of mine.”
A sigh. “Alright, I promise.” A stretch of silence elapses. “Our little family is growing bigger by the day.”
“That it is. And so is my belly,” I joke in an effort to break the tension.
“Come back out and celebrate with us?”
“I will. I just need a few more minutes in here. I’m still in shock that the baby kicked.”
“Alright, call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
I want to go and tell Rebecca the good news, but that can wait until later. Right now I just want to savour this feeling of contentment. For the next few minutes I rub my hands over my belly as the baby continues to kick. After a while it dies down and I imagine her closing her eyes and taking a nap, exhausted from all the activity.
I get a momentary fright when my phone begins to buzz where I’d left it sitting on the desk. Picking it up, I find Edwards’ number flashing on the screen. I answer straight away.
“Edwards? Is everything all right with Dad?”
“Hi honey,” a voice answers softly, a voice I haven’t heard properly in a really long time.
“Dad?” I whisper.
“It’s me,” he replies, his voice low and full of emotion.
“Are you…are you okay? I mean, are you better now?”
He coughs. “Just about. I feel like I’ve woken up from a really bad nightmare.”
His answer makes me smile. “Maybe you should just pretend that’s what it was. It would probably be easier to comprehend that way.”
“Yes, I think I just might do that,” he says and there’s a smile in his voice now, too.
“It’s so good to hear you speak,” I say in a rapid gush. “I’ve been worried sick.”
“I’m sorry about everything that happened, about never telling you who your mother really was.”
“You knew?” I breathe, shocked to say the least.
“Yes. Your mother had been running away from a life that was suffocating her. For a few years we managed to hide behind the façade of an ordinary life. But then, of course she was discovered by a maniac, a warlock of some sort.”
“I know,” I interrupt him. “He was a sorcerer and he’s dead now.”
“You say that like he’s only very recently dead,” Dad replies.
“Yes, and you’ll be happy to know he got exactly what he deserved for what he did to Mum.”
There’s a muffled sound on the other end of the line, like harsh breathing. “Are you safe, Tegan? I know you’re like your mother, but she told me she had hidden it so that nobody would know.”
“I’m as safe as I’ll ever be. And yes, she did hide it.”
“I can’t wait to see you. E.J. says I’ll be ready to go home soon.”
“That’s brilliant news,” I beam at him through the phone, my heart lifting at the prospect of seeing Dad. He’ll probably even be here for the birth of the baby.
After another couple of minutes talking, I hang up the phone and sit back in the chair. It really feels like everything’s coming full circle today.
“That was rather touching, even if I do say so myself,” comes a familiar voice from the far corner of the room. I turn in my seat to find Roman leaning against the side of some book shelves.
“Yeah,” I say, unsure as to what he’s doing here. “That was my dad, he’s fully recovered.”
“I gathered as much,” he replies and walks over to me, perching himself on the edge of the desk. “I hope you haven’t forgotten our agreement.”
I swallow. “No, of course not.”
“Very good. Your training begins tomorrow.”
“So soon?”
“The sooner the better. If you are going to stand at the side of a ruler you will need all the power you can get.”
“I guess you’re right.” I look him dead in the eye now and there’s a sparkle of excitement in his gaze. He’s really looking forward to this, and as I watch him some of the excitement begins to rub off on me, too. I have no idea what being a sorceress is going to entail, but the endless possibilities fill me with a thrilling sense of anticipation.
“Hey Tegan, I was looking for you,” comes Rita’s voice as she enters the room.
Roman turns to appraise her and she stares at him coolly. “Oh, you again,” she says casually.
“Hello, little witch. It is a pleasure, as always.”
Rita cocks an eyebrow and snickers. “Whatever. Tegan, are you coming back out or do you plan on staying in here all night?”
“Come and join us,” says Roman. “I think you might be interested in what we are discussing.”
“Oh yeah?” she folds her arms and closes the door, walking further into the room but stopping a couple of feet in front of Roman.
Roman looks at Rita for a long moment, and if I’m not mistaken he seems to be undressing her with his eyes. Rita’s casual demeanour falters a little as she clears her throat. Then Roman turns to me, “Tegan, how would you feel about having a classmate?”
It takes me a second to get what he’s saying. “You mean you want to teach Rita, too?”
“Teach me what?”
“Teach you how to become a sorceress,” Roman explains.
“Oh,” says Rita, her eyes getting all round. Her interest is clear as day on her face.
“I think it’s a great idea,” I put in. “It will be less scary than going it alone.”
“Yeah, it is a great idea, but how do we know he’s not up to something?”
“It’s always good to be suspicious,” says Roman with an approving nod. “But I assure you, I have no ulterior motives. I simply wish to pass my knowledge on. I’m not like other sorcerers, and I’m sick of keeping my powers all to myself. I feel it’s time for a change, and I want to share.”
There’s a long stretch of silence as she mulls it over.
“I’ll give you a month. If I decide it’s not for me then I can back out any time before the month is up,” says Rita. “Deal?”
Roman smiles widely and holds out his hand for her to shake it. “Deal.”
Hesitantly, Rita steps forward and takes his hand. They shake for a moment and then all of a sudden Roman is tugging Rita into him and capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss. Well, that was unexpected. She struggles for a minute but then sighs and submits.
I know I should probably turn away, but I can’t seem to stop watching.
Finally, they break their kiss and Roman lifts her hand to place one last peck on the inside of her wrist. “I very much look forward to training you, little witch,” he says with hot, smoky eyes.
Rita looks from him to me as though this is the first time in her entire life that she’s been completely speechless
.
“Until tomorrow, my lovelies,” Roman bids us goodbye and then vanishes from the room.
Rita looks like she’s still in shock as she slumps bonelessly down into a chair. After a minute or two passes, she says, “Did that really just happen?”
I chuckle. “Yes. Roman can be very…friendly.”
“You can say that again,” she replies and groans, throwing her hand over her face in annoyance.
“What’s wrong?”
“That man is going to be serious trouble, Tegan.”
“Serious trouble to your knickers, you mean,” I reply still laughing.
“Yeah,” she says, exasperated. “That’s exactly what I meant.”
I walk to her and pull her up from the chair, throwing my arm around her shoulders and leading her out of the room.
“Let him be trouble, Rita. You deserve a little fun.”
She scowls at me but there’s the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, maybe I do.”
Two and a half months later…
I never considered how much quicker vampires can build stuff compared to humans. In a matter of days the bomb site at Crimson was cleared, the remains of the building knocked down, and a whole new, completely different structure built in its place.
Now the spot where vampires and humans used to spend their time dancing and getting drunk has been transformed into a round, dome-like building. Ethan and Rita put their minds together and came up with The Hawthorne Centre, named after the river that once separated the city into two halves. It’s where they will form their future committee consisting of a representative from each supernatural species.
There has been surprisingly little resistance to this new plan, mostly because everyone is glad that the fighting has finally come to an end. Tonight vampires, magic users and all variety of supernatural creatures gathered at the river to throw white lotus flowers into the water as a symbol of peace.
I thought it was beautiful.
I stood beside Ethan, my dad who returned from England several weeks ago at my other side, and watched as the witches and warlocks lit the river up with their magic to make it look as though the flowers were glowing.
Now a big party is being thrown at the Hawthorne Centre and the entire street has been closed off to accommodate for the numbers. I sit at a table with Ethan, everyone getting drunk and merry around me. On the other side of the table Rita and Roman bounce off one another as Roman flirts and Rita tries her best not to succumb to his charms.
Gabriel and Alvie are dancing like they’re having the time of their lives – and they probably are. Finn and Allora are dancing, too, all slow and romantic even though the music being played is fast. They smile into each other’s eyes like they’re the only two people in the room. Delilah sits atop Ira’s lap, feeding him hors d’oeuvre of something that looks like fancy chicken. Beside them are Amanda and Lucas, and I have to applaud the vampire for how well he has stuck to his guns. I’ve never seen Amanda happier, so he must be doing something right.
I see all of my friends around me, happy and looking to the future. So why do I feel so sad? I feel as though I could be seeing them for the very last time, but that doesn’t make any sense. Ethan pulls me from my thoughts when he takes my hand into his, rubbing tender circles into the centre of my palm.
“You haven’t touched your crab,” he says, his deep voice resonating through me.
“Is that what it is?” I say, trying to sound light-hearted. “I thought it was chicken.”
“What’s wrong? You seem on edge.”
“I’m not. I just have this bad feeling.”
He takes both my hands into his now and looks me in the eye, his expression serious. “Nothing bad is going to happen, Tegan. You’ve lived with uncertainty for so long that you’re uncomfortable with stability. Your life is going to be good and safe from now on.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just one of those glass half empty kind of girls, always looking for the catch.”
Ethan shushes me, taking my fork and lifting some crab to my mouth. “Eat and enjoy the party, my love.”
I nod and dig into my food. Finn and Allora return to the table, Gabriel and Alvie following closely behind them. They’re all laughing about something, but Gabriel looks unamused.
“Hey,” says Finn teasingly, his hands raised in the air. “Whatever raises your flag.”
“It’s not that weird,” Gabriel mutters in annoyance.
“What’s not that weird?” Rita asks.
“We were talking about poor old Marcel. Gabe thinks he was attractive.”
“I just think he had a handsome face and an alright body for his age. Jesus, you’re making too much of a big deal out of it,” Gabriel grumbles.
“Eww, that’s gross,” says Rita scrunching up her nose. “I don’t even want to think about what the two of you got up to when you spent so much time cooked up in that shop together.”
Gabriel shakes his head and sighs in exasperation. “I should never have opened my mouth.”
Alvie gives him a peck on the cheek. “It’s okay, Gabe. I still love you, even if you do have a penchant for wrinkly old men.”
Gabriel blushes and looks away, keeping his attention on the wine glass in front of him. Everyone at the table starts laughing, all except for Ethan. His attention is settled completely on me and there’s a startling look of horror in his eyes. I follow his gaze to the lap of my pale silk dress to see it’s not so pale anymore. Now it’s covered in deep, red blood.
I lift my hand to my mouth in shock, a soundless gasp rushing from my lips, and that’s when the pain hits. Pure, undiluted agony shatters through my body, causing me to cry out. I’m vaguely aware of the vampires in the room, and how their eyes start to glow red at the scent of my blood.
I feel as though I’m being ripped open from the inside out, and all I can think about is the baby. Am I having her now? The doctor said I was still two weeks away from my due date, and judging by how much blood there is I’m more likely losing the child.
I can barely focus anymore, the pain is just too great, the strength of it tearing into my body at breakneck speed. Ethan takes me into his arms and starts shouting orders at people to get out of the way, but I’m too out of it to concentrate on his words. Then it all becomes too much. I can’t handle a single second more of this agony.
My eyes fall shut and blackness takes over.
Chapter Twenty-One
I’m Waking Up
Tegan
Birdsong twitters in my ears and the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass fills my nose; it would be pleasant if it weren’t for the lingering scent of anti-septic. It’s hard to open my eyes, but when I finally manage to pry my lids apart I find myself in a clean, sparsely furnished space, sort of like a hospital room.
I’m hooked up to an IV machine and I wince to see the tubes stuck into my arms. I try to sit up but a heady sense of weakness overcomes me and I have to lie back down again for a minute. The events that happened before I passed out rush through my head. How long have I been sleeping for?
And oh, God.
What happened to my baby?
I run my hand down my abdomen but only find a horrifically flat surface where once there was a bulging round baby bump. Pulling the pale white sheets off my body, I look down at the loose nightdress I’ve been put in. I lift it up to reveal my stomach and there are no signs of stretch marks, no signs of a pregnancy at all. A terrible swell of loss makes my throat clog with tears.
Where is Ethan?
The pain I felt at the party is gone completely. I manage to summon up enough strength to pull the IV from my arms, climb out of bed and walk to the open window. There are pretty lawns outside with a few people sitting on benches or walking the grounds. Farther away I spot an entrance gate, over which hangs a big white sign proclaiming the name of wherever the hell it is I am, but I’m too far away to make out what it says.
I startle when a knock sounds twice at the d
oor and a middle aged woman dressed in an orderly’s uniform steps inside.
“Ah, you’re awake,” she says and then frowns when she sees the tears running down my face.
“Where is Ethan? Who brought me here?” I ask frantically, my heart racing.
“Please, calm down,” says the woman. “You don’t want to go upsetting yourself.”
“Where is Ethan?” I repeat.
“I have no idea who you’re talking about, Miss, but if you would just get back into bed…”
“I’m not getting back into bed until somebody explains where I am!” I shout.
“You’re in St. Frances’ Psychiatric Hospital,” she answers. “Now please, at least sit. You shouldn’t have removed the IV. Just look at the mess you’ve made.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Psychiatric hospital?”
“That’s right. You’ve been here for quite a while,” she says as though I’m stupid not to already know this.
Suddenly, my head starts to hurt, a terrible ache pulsing at my skull. I put my hands to my temples and sit down on the threadbare armchair by the window. What the hell is going on? Why am I in a freaking loony bin? And where the hell is everyone? I want to ask the orderly more questions, but the pain in my head is too much.
Everything starts to feel strange and weird ideas take shape in my mind. Like, is this reality and whatever I thought my life had been up until now just a dream? Grief swells in my chest and I start to cry again. The orderly looks at me uncomfortably, says she’s going to get some cleaning supplies and leaves the room.
This can’t be real.
I can’t have lost everything. Or did I even have it to begin with? Were all of the vampires, witches and warlocks just a figment of my imagination? Did I really go mad with grief after Matthew died and get admitted to this place?
No. Everyone was too vivid for me to have made them all up. I can see their faces, remember the way they smelled, the little nuances they each possessed. My brain might be a colourful place, but it’s not that colourful. But then I start to think about how much Rita resembled my bitchy side and how Finn and I had almost the exact same sense of humour, the way Gabriel reminded me of how sometimes I can be terribly shy, and I wonder in horror, did I make them up?
