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Slaying It (Chicagoland Vampires)

Page 8

by Chloe Neill

“It’s really sweet,” I said, tears suddenly streaming down my face for no apparent reason. Other than hormones, pain, and exhaustion. “Thank you.”

  “Until she’s ready for the real thing,” Gabe said, then reached over and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

  “My ‘tana?”

  We looked back at Connor, whose gaze had narrowed at the sword.

  “He means ‘katana,’” Gabriel said, smiling at his son’s focused stare.

  “You might want to get him one of those, too,” I said, and Gabriel just shrugged.

  “He can borrow hers.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Thirty-eight hours. Nearly two full days of labor including many daylight hours without Ethan while he slept in a neighboring and sunlight-free room. My mind ached for sleep, but my body wouldn’t allow it. I passed those hours in a daze, neither entirely awake nor asleep, but glad when the sun fell again.

  Finally, Delia came in. “All right, Sentinel,” she said, after taking a look. “It’s time to push. Are you ready to meet your daughter?”

  I was struck by a wave of terror so great I might have been facing down a mortal enemy. I looked up at Ethan, ready to launch into a manic dialogue. But he put a hand on my face.

  You can do this, Merit. I’ll be here with you, and we’ll get through it together. Then he squeezed my hand. Now buck up, and get it done.

  “Together” my ass, I thought. But we’d talk about that later. For now, I had one final job.

  * * *

  * * *

  I’d like to say that I handled the rest of it with grace and a minimum of swearing. But that would be a lie. I curse like a sailor in the best of times, and childbirth, even if it has a happy ending, was not the best of times. It was painful, sweaty, messy, terrifying times.

  But oh, that happy ending.

  She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Tiny and delicate as a doll, with downy, golden hair and green eyes just like her father’s. She had my mouth, but she was obviously Ethan’s daughter.

  She’d been swaddled and placed in my arms, and he sat beside me with an arm around my shoulders, both of us staring at the tiny vampire who blinked up at us.

  “Look what we did, Sentinel.”

  I gave him a hard look.

  “Admittedly, your part was harder than mine.”

  I made a quiet sound of agreement. I’d always found the idea that “we” were pregnant really weird. He didn’t have to waddle or pee all the time or get punched from the inside. She was our child—but it had been my pregnancy.

  Anyway, that hardly mattered now.

  “She is beautiful.”

  “She is stunning,” he said, and pressed his lips to her forehead again. “And she smells so good.” The smile on his face was dopey and utterly happy. And he pressed his lips to my cheek again. “I love you both endlessly.”

  “Same here,” I said, and brushed the soft hair on her head. “We need to pick a name.”

  Despite Luc’s best efforts, none of the names he’d come up with, or we’d thought of, had really appealed to us.

  “Ethanette.”

  “No,” I said with a chuckle. “You’ve offered that already. And not Meritina or Merit-Lite.”

  “I’m out of ideas. Nothing seems quite good enough for her. Quite . . . wonderful enough.”

  She burped.

  “Well, she’s undoubtedly your child.”

  I rubbed her tiny belly. “Yes, she is.” Then I looked up at him, the gorgeous man who’d given me love and laughter and a home and now my third kind of family. And I thought about the family he’d lost hundreds of years ago when he’d first been changed.

  “Elisa,” I said. “Let’s name her Elisa. After your sister.”

  His eyes warmed. “Building connections with our new family.”

  “It seems appropriate,” I said, and closed my eyes. “And I think I need to sleep now.”

  “Do that,” he said, and took the child in his arms. While my eyes closed, he rocked his daughter to sleep.

  Chloe Neill—New York Times bestselling author of the Chicagoland Vampires novels (Blade Bound, Midnight Marked, Dark Debt), the Heirs of Chicagoland novels (Wild Hunger), the Dark Elite novels (Charmfall, Hexbound, Firespell), and the Devil’s Isle novels (The Hunt, The Sight, The Veil)—was born and raised in the South but now makes her home in the Midwest, just close enough to Cadogan House to keep an eye on things. When not transcribing her heroines’ adventures, she bakes, works, and scours the Internet for good recipes and great graphic design. Chloe also maintains her sanity by spending time with her boys—her favorite landscape photographer (her husband) and their dogs, Baxter and Scout. (Both she and the photographer understand the dogs are in charge.)

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