Demona pouted at his inside joke.
“Please, sit, my darling. Would you like some wine?”
Dorien felt unsure. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate or drink.
“Please don’t tell me you haven’t enjoyed food or drink since you’ve rejoined the mortal world.”
“I knew I didn’t need it. So I abstained.”
“Silly, fool! Enjoy the pleasures of the world. Our immortal life doesn’t require food or drink, but we can enjoy it. We can still taste, so partake! It helps us blend in with the mortals. Phebus, please get our plates. We’re ready to dine.”
Phebus bowed his head in submission. “Yes, my mistress.”
He returned with plates full of food. Fried chicken, rib-eye steak, tender pork roast, fire-roasted duck, mashed potatoes, honey-glazed carrots and steamed broccoli with cheese sauce. Full puffed rolls were swollen with golden crowns, drizzled with melted butter.
Dorien eyed his plate suspiciously.
Demona was quick to correct him. “You are immortal, Dorieus! I cannot poison you! Now eat!”
She took a bite of her dinner. Dorien soon followed suit. She was right! The food was absolutely delicious. The meat melted in his mouth. He had forgotten how pleasurable it was to dine. The wine was excellent. But old habit made him wish for ale.
She read his mind. “You prefer ale, my darling? Phebus, please get our guest a fresh mug of ale.”
Phebus did her bidding. A large mug of ale was placed in front of Dorien.
“Drink, love, taste the ale.”
Lifting his mug, Dorien moaned as the ale poured down his throat. Demona watched hedonistically, as if he performed some erotic act.
“Dorieus, I’m going to get to the heart of the matter. You know how I feel for you. I’ve always loved you, but you’ve never return my affections. I’m well aware that you know about the incidents involving Evangeline’s parents and the rabid dog. I do apologize! There is little I can do to make up for that.”
Reading the witch’s thoughts, Dorien felt his chest tighten. Evangeline had truly suffered by Demona’s hand. The twisted woman sat before him. Her eyes lit up with sick delight. She relished the devastation her hatred brought to the woman he loved.
“Don’t you see there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you?” she wailed.
“Are you saying that everything that has happened to Evangeline is because of your feelings for me?”
“Yes! The original plan was for Evangeline to perish with her parents! Luck was on her side that day. I was certain she would fly home with them. I wanted her dead because I knew she would find you.”
Gritting his teeth, Dorien restrained his anger. “You tried to kill her?”
“Yes! Shameful, I know, but I want you Dorieus! I see what’s in your future with her, you know.”
He tried not to be interested.
Her eyes widened with knowledge. “Oh, but I know you’re interested. We still have some mortal traits, my darling.”
“And what do you know of us, Demona?”
“I know she will conceive.”
Dorien’s head jerked as if she had slapped him. “Impossible! You lie!”
“Why, I stand nothing to lie! It’s absolutely true! Evangeline will bear the fruit of your seed. Although, I can’t say what she’ll have. Believe me, darling, that part is killing me. For some reason, the magic won’t let me know.”
His mind reeled. “Me? A father?”
“You have a few years until you see it come true.”
“So this is in the future?”
“Yes. Let me give you a little lesson about immortals. An immortal male’s seed will live fifteen days inside a woman’s body. It’s virtually impossible for a female to not conceive when coupled with an immortal. You have fared well to not have impregnated Evangeline already. Unfortunately, immortal females are unable to bear children, something I’ve long despised. I do think I would have made such a wonderful mother, don’t you, darling?”
Dorien coughed. His eyes rolled in blatant opposition.
“Anyway, the conception isn’t anything to worry about. It’s the pregnancy and childbirth you have to watch out for.”
Demona rose from her chair. In a flash, she stood behind Dorien. He felt the cold touch of her fingers resting on top of his shoulders. The chair creaked from the pressure of her lean. Her cool breath tickled his ear. Dorien gulped. He felt like he could vomit.
“The placenta of an immortal fetus will burrow deep into its mother’s womb, causing painful cramping to its mother. Under no circumstance is the mother to attempt to abort her fetus or undergo a cesarean section. You see, the fetus is quite fond of its mother. The babe will release a toxin into the mother’s bloodstream to kill them both if it is removed too early. Once the infant is expelled at birth, the placenta must deliver itself before the cord can be cut or mother and infant will hemorrhage to death. A vaginal birth must occur for every half-breed infant. I’m afraid the experience of labor and delivery for an immortal infant is mortifying at best.”
Dorien clenched his fists and cringed. He had been so careless with Evangeline. This would be something he would remedy in their immediate future.
“Look at our skin, Dorieus. It is cold, lifeless, and unforgiving. A human newborn is soft and will give to accommodate its mother during birth. An immortal child’s body does no such thing. Unfortunately, it is the mother who must do all the work. It is not uncommon for women to die giving birth to their half-breeds. A shame, really.”
Dorien glared at Demona. Knowing her thoughts, the witch was hoping this would be Evangeline’s fate. An angry tick twitched in his cheek.
“Anyway, I want to make a deal with you.”
“I refuse to make any deals with you, Demona!”
“Oh, this one I think you will like. I’ll bet my immortality on this one. You stand to win a lot if I lose, so listen closely. We both know you will become a father in the future, although the sex of the child has yet to be determined. I’ll wager that if Evangeline delivers a live son, I will lose. I will then leave you and Evangeline, as well as any brats you produce, in peace. I also agree to become fully mortal, drinking the nectar of Ambrosia. I shall give you a vial for yourself so that you may choose to return to a mortal life, or have your beloved join you in immortality.”
“And if I were to lose?”
“You will lose if Evangeline fails to deliver a live son. Considering there’s a fifty-fifty chance on the sex of your child, the odds are even. If you should fail to produce a live son, you will become my mate and minion for eternity. You will never see Evangeline or your child again.”
“And what if I choose not to accept your wager?”
Demona’s face twisted into a disturbed palette of madness. “Then I will hunt your mortal. I will kill her and slaughter your unborn brat. Don’t be a fool, Dorieus. You may keep her safe from me for a while, but eventually, I will find her. She would always be looking over her shoulder. Do you think Evangeline will like living in a cage while you try to protect her from me? But I’m warning you. Don’t make a snap decision. You must think long and hard about this. If you decide to accept my wager, the magic will hold the loser accountable to pay up on their end of the deal. There is no changing your mind. Once our agreement is sealed, there must be an outcome; a winner and a loser. This is why I am giving you ten days to decide. You will need every moment to think on it.”
Dorien’s thoughts raced. Despite Demona’s softened expression, her face boasted of a knowing confidence. Pride filled her stare. Her smile was smug. He was insulted by her careless demeanor. Reading her thoughts, the witch knew she had him over a barrel. As much as he hated to stay for ten days, he would be a fool if he refused the time to think his strategy through. It was worth the wait; considering the consequences could be fatal to the woman he loved. If anything, perhaps he could find a loophole or some way to reason with her.
Demona’s words were true. His immortality could help p
rotect Evangeline. But the ugly truth was Demona was also immortal. Her ability to read the future only enhanced her ability to strike. He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to Evangeline if he was to turn his back for a moment. It would take little effort for an immortal to snuff the life from a mortal. Plus, there was a perk. If he won, he could give Evangeline the Ambrosia. She could share eternity with him and their children.
“You will not make any attempts to kill her if I accept?”
“Yes! I will try not to kill her if you agree to the wager.”
Roaring with rage, Dorien lunged at her. He slammed into her body and held her against the wall. Demona did nothing to stop him. It felt so good to wrap his hands around her small, pale neck. If only he could squeeze the immortal life out of her. With a moan, her head fell to the side.
Reading her mind, she enjoyed the feel of his body pressed against her. The thought sickened him. With the grit of his teeth, he immediately backed down. Demona stood as if nothing had happened. Dorien growled, cursing in his native language as he paced the floor.
“You have until sundown on the tenth day to think about your choices. Have free run of the manor and the grounds. Enjoy your stay as you contemplate your future. You don’t have to worry. You will not see me for the duration of your stay, that is, until you give me your decision. If you need food or drink, or anything for that matter, my minions have strict orders to be at your beck and call. I trust your stay will be enjoyable. In ten days, then!”
In a flash Demona left him.
* * * *
Dorien searched the horizon from his bedroom window. The bright aura of the sun was melting like lava into the deepest fade of liquid sky blue. Ten days was about to be over. It was time to give his decision. His hand brushed across his face. He still wrestled with his conscience. Every day since he had stepped into this wretched place it was the same routine; he ran, he swam, and he ate. Nothing soothed his mind. Over and over he went through both scenarios. He sought a peaceful solution. But with Demona, there was no peace! The choices she offered forced him to consider the lesser of the two evils. How would he survive if he lost Evangeline?
He wouldn’t, it was that simple.
The thought of losing her for eternity made him feel like he would explode. He doubted Demona’s vision. Could Evan truly conceive? If he ignored the wager, she could be taken from him before they ever shared the magic of a precious child. The safest choice was to bet on a son. At least they would have a few years of peace before the child was born. As an immortal, it was true. He would do well in protecting her. But Demona’s immortality gave her equal opportunity of reaching a helpless Evangeline.
So this was obvious! There was no choice! He would accept the witch’s wretched wager and accept full responsibility if he failed. Either way, Evangeline would be safe. After all, she was what mattered.
Chapter Fifteen
Ten long agonizing days. Evangeline was miserable. She missed Dorien. The nights were awful. She couldn’t sleep without his arms around her. Glancing at the calendar, six weeks had passed since their first night together. Feeling the ache of loneliness, she had to admit. Her existence felt so lost without him.
She reminded herself to lay off the drinks before bedtime. She was tired waking in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. The stomach virus that ailed her for the past week showed no signs of letting up. Perhaps she should just see Dr. Eliza? But then again, she was always good for calling in a prescription. Sighing aloud, her thoughts drifted back to Dorien. A heavy knot throbbed in her stomach. She felt like she could vomit.
Steam billowed high in rolls from the shower. Evangeline prayed it would help her feel better. Toothbrush and toothpaste in hand, she stepped into the warmth of the water. Tilting her head back, the water soothed as it rushed down the length of her body.
Evangeline brushed her teeth. Her eyes watered the moment her toothpaste made contact with her tongue. She gagged and retched, rinsing the frothy suds from her mouth. With a deep breath, she tried again. Bent over in misery, she was unable to bear it. Her mouth opened wide, water filled it, rinsing the remaining suds from her mouth. Weakness made her groan. Studying the tube of toothpaste, she took a whiff. The pungent smell of mint filled her nostrils. Her stomach tightened, growling loud in protest. The taste of bile lingered on her tongue. Would breakfast even help? Eggs sounded good.
She cursed her jeans as she sucked in her gut. They wouldn’t zip! Going through her closet, Evangeline grumbled to choose a comfy pair of jogging pants. She pouted to the kitchen. When Dorien returned from his trip, she would cut down on Greek food!
Making better food choices was a no-brainer. She would start with salads tomorrow. But today she wanted those eggs.
Pouring in the eggs, she loaded it with her ingredients. Her head turned sharp when the doorbell rang.
She ran to the door and smiled as Tommy waved. He was sweet to check on her welfare every day.
“Cheerio, Tommy! How are you today?”
Tommy blushed and smiled. “I’m good!” He followed her into the kitchen. His hands slid into the front of his faded blue jean pockets. His freckled nose lifted in the air and inhaled a good whiff. “It sure smells good in here.”
“I am making an omelet. Would you like some?”
The chair screeched as he pulled out a seat. “Yes, miss!”
“Have you heard from your master today?” she teased.
“I sure did. He should be back anytime. Oh, yeah, I’m supposed to tell you he loves you.”
Evangeline laughed to watch Tommy turn a few shades of red. The color of his face almost matched his hair. “I miss him, too, Tommy.” Flipping half of a hot, heaping omelet on his plate, she filled her plate with the remaining half. Sitting next to Tommy, she coated her omelet with salsa and ketchup.
Tommy must have been mortified. His eyes looked as if they would bug out of his skull. Pieces of egg and mushroom fell from his mouth as he spoke. “No offense, but that’s bloody disgusting! You aren’t going to eat your eggs like that, are you?”
“You bet I am! Oh, this is so good!”
His face wrinkled in disgust.
“You know, Evan, watching you eat your omelet like that is kind of like watching a car accident. As horrible as it is…I just can’t look away.”
Evangeline devoured the omelet as if it were her last meal.
“Mind your own omelet!” she joked, popping the last forkful into her mouth. Sweat beaded her forehead and neck in an instant. Her mouth filled with bitter saliva. Her eyes large, she burped unexpectedly.
Tommy’s brow furrowed. “Are you okay, Evan?”
“Yeah, Tommy, I’m all right,” she lied.
“You sure don’t look so good. Can I get you anything?”
Placing her hands flat on the table, Evangeline’s head fell back and rested against the back of her chair. “No,” she breathed. “Give me a minute. I just need some air.”
She ignored the wooded sound of the front door closing.
“How is my favorite lady today?” Dorien called from the foyer.
Dorien’s voice took her by surprise. The joy of seeing him wasn’t enough to make her sour stomach feel any better. Evangeline’s gaze found him quick. His happy smile dissolved the moment his stare locked on to hers. She watched his raven brows furrow in agitation. Dorien’s attention flew to Tommy.
“Tommy, what’s going on with my woman?”
Evangeline’s stomach churned.
Please don’t vomit! Please don’t…
Bolting from the chair, Evangeline gagged and retched towards the kitchen sink. In a flash, Dorien was behind her. He collected her hair and held it away from her face. She emptied the omelet from her stomach. Retch after painful retch, her body shook. Rinsing the rancid taste from her mouth from the faucet, Dorien wiped away her tears. Her whole body trembled. Beads of sweat drenched her body. The feelings of weakness enveloped her.
Black spots swirling i
n her vision, she collapsed. Dorien caught her in an instant, cradling her body. He carried her into the living room. Tommy beat him to the sectional, fluffing the pillows for her comfort. Dorien laid her down on the cushions.
Her eyelashes fluttered. She felt so weak and groggy. “What happened?”
“You lost your breakfast and fainted, love. Are you feeling any better?”
Dorien must have read her mind. “Tommy, quick! Fetch Evan a pot!”
He felt her forehead for fever. Tommy returned with the pot. Trying to sit up, Evangeline felt some color return to her cheeks. The scent of omelet permeated in the air. It violated her senses. Grabbing at the pot, her stomach revolted. She vomited again.
Was her stomach going to come up through her throat?
Tommy brought her a glass of water. She was thankful to rinse out her mouth again. Dorien cupped her face. His expression looked as sick as she felt.
“Evan, what is wrong? How long has this been going on?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong. I’ve felt like this for the past week but it feels worse today.
“Should I take you to see your doctor?”
“No. I’ll be all right. I think I just caught a bug or something. No need to fuss over me. I should be fine in a day or two.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Actually there is. Would you two mind going to the store? I could use some lemon-lime soda and some broth.”
Spartan Heart, Part One Page 13
