by Joey W. Hill
Initially, when Matt told her on the phone they’d sit down with Ben in three days, Marcie thought he’d lost his mind.
“I want you to have time to digest this,” he told her firmly. “A decision this big, it’s important you know your own mind on it before you share it with a personality as strong as Ben’s.”
Though she missed Ben intensely in those nighttime hours, she found, as usual, Matt was right. The separation time gave her space to think, come to grips with everything herself. As much as she could when one half of the equation wasn’t yet in the loop.
His baby. Their baby. When she was alone in the shelter shower, to clean up and put on a fresh set of clothes before helping with dinner, she’d leaned against the wall, clasped her arms around herself again.
She’d helped raise her siblings, so she knew she had a leg up on a lot of women in terms of the day-to-day, with kids needing lunches packed, homework done, temperatures taken, a few firm words when they needed them.
But this part of things, this was new. A person was growing inside her. She would harbor that soul for nine months, and bring her or him into the world. She would hold this baby in her arms, and from the first second it breathed air on its own, it would know who she was. Who she would always be.
Mother.
It scared the absolute shit out of her, even as she felt something she couldn’t describe when she thought about it. She guessed the best description would be kind of a quiet awe, as if some part of her was standing perfectly still, marveling at a wonder beyond her comprehension. She felt so grateful to be given the chance to look at it, be a part of it.
Ruby had told her dryly to keep that in mind when morning sickness had her throwing up her intestines. But she’d said it with humor, and a softness that told Marcie even in those moments, that feeling had been there for Ruby, too.
Matt had also told her he wouldn’t share her news with anyone until they met with Ben, with the exception of Savannah.
She felt kind of guilty, not telling Cassandra, her own sister, but Ben was the baby’s father. Getting Matt’s help in knowing how best to tell Ben was different from sharing the news that she was pregnant. When it was time to share and celebrate it with her family, she wanted Ben to be part of that.
She desperately hoped he would be.
As she worked the breakfast line at the shelter on the second day, the thoughts of what might happen were starting to crowd in on her, way too fast and heavy. That was when she felt an arm slip around her, and looked into Savannah’s reserved blue eyes. Matt’s wife brushed her cool lips against Marcie’s creased forehead.
“Breathe,” she said softly. “And think about who’s breathing with you. It helps calm you. I promise.”
She didn’t say anything else, just started dishing out pancakes again, but Marcie tried it. One breath in slow, out slow. Again, and again, as she imagined her heartbeat synchronizing with that pulse of tiny life inside her. It did help. Things settled.
God, she missed her Master so much. She had gotten used to being open with him, to him, about everything. She was glad she was at least getting to be near him, because she really needed that. She needed that on any day of the week, but feeling like something major was about to change, and not knowing how it would work out, made it all the more vital to be around Ben, yet without the pressure of facing the question to come.
Working side by side to help clean out the flooded homes and businesses of their neighbors gave her that space. They piled up the resulting debris to be carted off, convinced homeless people who considered the flooded area their home turf to go to shelters or relocate to safer, drier areas for the time being.
Yesterday, when they’d taken time for lunch on a corner of Canal street, eating box lunches donated by local restaurants, Ben had sat her on his knee, since they were short of folding stadium chairs. While she’d crooked her arm around his neck and grinned, he’d talked trash to a group of hookers mercilessly teasing him right back, making her laugh out loud. When she hopped up to help a homeless man open his boxed lunch, since he only had two fingers on one hand, the old man gave her a wink.
“That’s a lucky fellow, there. Hope he knows it.”
She glanced up to find Ben’s eyes upon her. “I’m lucky too,” she murmured. “We both are.”
It was going to be all right. It had to be.
Their magical guests departed on Day Two. As they gathered in front of the hotel, Marcie wondered what it would be like to see them again. Would she and Ben invite Derek to have dinner with them next time he was in town, saving the world? How did it work with beings like this?
It was ironic that Ramona, the chaos witch, would make order of that confusion.
“If you ever get to North Carolina, come see me at my shop. We’ll get the whole gang together for dinner,” she said. “You can meet Jem, who I know will love you. You and Ruby can go to the gun range and shoot inanimate bad guy targets. Ooh, and we’ll visit Raina’s place. You haven’t lived until you spent an evening with her sex demons. They’re like a bunch of really sweet hormonal teenagers.”
Ben’s hand brushed her back, and Marcie looked up at him, but he was talking to Derek and Mikhael. They had already exchanged the typical minimalist conversation men did, but one part of it caught her attention, made her smile.
“Thanks for helping to get me back here,” Ben told Derek. The Light Guardian lifted a shoulder.
“It was entirely self-serving. God only knows what introducing a lawyer into another plane of existence might do to the order of the cosmos.”
“And we’re back to lawyer bashing.” Ben sighed. “That’s okay. I know how it works. I’ll be the first guy you call if you get arrested at the airport for carrying a weapon of mass destruction.” He nodded to the staff, then looked at Mikhael. He tipped his head toward the curb, where the Ferrari was waiting for him and Raina to take the front seat. Mikhael had said he was in the mood for a drive back to North Carolina.
“You should leave that here,” Ben said. “I could loan you my smooth-riding minivan to get you home.”
Mikhael lifted a brow. “Then where would you have your clients sit that you’ve stolen from ambulances?”
Ramona clasped Marcie’s hand, drawing her away from the male banter. She was smiling at their teasing just as Marcie was, but when Marcie faced her, looked into the woman’s eyes, her heart tightened in a way that she would feel if saying good-bye to friends she’d known much longer than a few days.
She wasn’t one to question her feelings, though. Or not say the words in her heart.
“We didn’t get much time to know one another, but I really like you,” Marcie said. She shifted her attention to Raina and Ruby, standing in the same half-circle. “All of you. And thank you really, for everything. For doing what you do to take care of us.”
“You were a vital part of it.” Ramona hugged her, so naturally affectionate Marcie couldn’t help holding on extra tight. "Remember, chaos isn't random,” Ramona whispered in her ear. “It simply doesn't take the route you expect. But it's amazing how often you end up in the right place with it."
While she was still holding Marcie, Ruby and Raina drew closer, put their arms around all of them. Within their circle, Marcie was reminded of everything she’d seen them do, and what she’d done with them.
“You have a little bit of witch in you, Marcie,” Raina said. “We all do.” She brushed her lips over Marcie’s, touching her chin, her throat, with lingering fingers, that sensual promise she did so well. When she drew back, Marcie swayed toward her before she could stop herself.
“Come to see me,” the half-succubus said with a wink, a wicked gleam in her eye. “And bring your Master, his brothers and their wives with you. We’ll take good care of you at Sweet Dreams. Oh, plus there’s an unforgettable ice cream shop in town.”
“Don’t forget the shoe store,” Ruby put in, elbowing Raina. She rolled her eyes at Marcie. “She just can’t help herself. Has to turn on the sex
.”
“Turning it off is so rarely worth the effort,” Raina retorted.
Ruby shook her head at her, but then she sobered. Her voice lowered as she tightened her grip on Marcie’s shoulders.
“As strong as you are, you think there are some things you’re not strong enough to handle. But believe me, you’re about to discover a new level of strength. You have the power of two souls now. Or three.” A light smile touched her serious mouth. “It will help you handle anything to come.”
Day Three. Matt had told her to be out in front of the K&A building by ten in the morning. So here she was, sitting on a stone bench in the graceful front courtyard. The circle of white concrete benches surrounded a natural area. It contained a bronze sculpture of two cranes, along with lots of pretty trees and landscaping, everything she’d expect a guy with mega-millions and Matt’s sense of style to have embellishing the front of his building.
It was a peaceful place, classy and clean, overseen by watchful security just inside the doors. As a result, it was a popular lunch locale for people who didn’t even work here. They’d come and eat their meal on pretty days, certain they wouldn’t be harassed by panhandlers. Though street performers were always welcome, as the guy nearby playing an upbeat tune on metal buckets proved.
Marcie’s fingers twitched, playing over the satiny steel of her collar, now securely on her throat once more. What was happening up in that board room? Was she ridiculous for not insisting on being there, hearing what was said?
No. For the past couple days, even as she’d hauled trash and done a bunch of stuff that pushed her body to the limits, another part of her had felt so fragile, breakable. More than once, she’d thought of Bonnie. The expression of the newborn creature when Elagra had struck her, the puzzlement, had made Marcie’s heart hurt.
You will be loved. You will. He will love you. He can’t reject you. He just can’t.
She curled her arms over her stomach, a gesture that had become her most frequent way of comforting herself when she was alone. She was holding something within her that felt like…Ben. Maybe it was crazy, but she could feel the life there, even though it was only three days old. Maybe the strength of that soul piece made it more evident to her. Or maybe it was the power of suggestion. It didn’t matter. The soul didn’t have a trimester schedule. The soul was what it was, immutable, and Ben’s piece of soul had brought forth that new life, a combination of their DNA. She would talk to it when it was microscopic as much as she would when it was making her waddle like a duck.
She was in a precarious place, she knew it. She’d told the women it needed to be his decision, that it was his child, too. But she already knew if he said he didn’t want it, there was no way in hell she was killing this child in the womb. Or giving her or him up to be adopted to strangers.
The only option open to her under that scenario was having the child adopted by another member of their devoted extended family. And that would happen. She’d bet Rachel and Jon would be the first ones to step forward, but they’d relinquish the honor to Peter and Dana, who’d be a close second, no matter Dana was still freaked out about the idea of having kids because of her blindness.
But God, the pain of that. She couldn’t. She would, if she had to, if the choice was being with Ben or not. But in the dread that gripped her, she knew how that would tear into them both, create a rift that would be hard to bridge. Could she bear being with him, knowing that wound was there, festering? She didn’t have a choice. She would always be with him. But the happiness she’d embraced as his wife would have a permanent blight going forward.
It would be an unbearable situation she would bear, and they would both suffer from the decision. But the alternative? Raising the child on her own? Would he really withdraw from her, force her to do that?
She’d wanted to wear a badge, be a cop. She still could be, but she had wanted to be one now. Since she’d first made that decision, then finally won Ben’s support, the idea had grown in strength every single day. It had given her a sense of purpose that she had known would become her defining core, the career that would shape her life as much as her love for Ben did.
But whether deferred or not, that core was there, no matter what. Being a cop wasn't about a badge or a gun, or a certificate from an academy. It was a state of mind, wanting to serve and protect others, wanting to take that path to change things for people, one person at a time. She’d just helped save a big chunk of New Orleans. That should cover her for a while, right?
She’d also dreamed of having Ben’s child, of being parents together. It had been a dream tucked down deeper, maybe for a lot of the reasons she was apprehensive about now, but it was there. If being with Ben had taught her anything, it was that there was room and time for more than one dream to come true.
She was going to lose her mind if he didn’t come down soon, even as she dreaded it…
Her heart leaped into her throat. There he was. In the spacious K&A lobby, he’d stopped at the reception desk to say something to the security guys. Since it was through the tinted glass, she couldn’t tell if it was banter or just some mundane whatever. Then he was out the door.
He had an uncanny sense of her proximity, such that he didn’t look around for her like a normal person. His gaze went straight to her, held.
She couldn’t move. She just couldn’t. She couldn’t tell a thing from his face. It was wary, guarded. Wasn’t it?
There were people moving around her, talking. The sun was shining. A bird that had landed in a nearby crepe myrtle tree was chirping. None of them knew how close they’d come to annihilation. But he did know, and she did, too. Yet it was not the uppermost thing in her mind at this moment.
His face was too locked down, she realized. No, no, no…please.
The past few days, while helping with clean up and relief efforts, he’d been wearing frayed jeans and worn, soft T-shirts that molded his body in ways that gave women of all ages a lot of fantasies, herself included. Today wasn’t a workday, but when they came into the office even on an off day, all the K&A men tended to be a little more formal. As a result, Ben wore a dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves, untucked over a pair of dark blue jeans and loafers.
His dark hair feathered over his brow with the breeze, and his green eyes, always so brilliant and deep set, seemed to see only her. Yet before stepping out from under the building overhang into the bright New Orleans sun, he donned a pair of wire-framed sunglasses, which only further concealed his reaction.
She couldn’t read him. The last time he’d locked himself down that way was when he’d put maximum effort into changing her mind about something she was determined she wanted more than anything
Don’t make me choose. Do not do that to me. She’d thought nothing could destroy their love, but suddenly she was aware, with a mere sentence or two, he could tear it irrevocably to pieces. She couldn’t bear that.
How could she carry the man’s soul within her if he shredded hers around it?
He was everything to her. And to ask her to give up something she considered part of him…it was like he would be asking her not to love him with everything she was, to only give two-thirds of herself to him.
No. She wasn’t ready to face this. She’d been wrong.
She got up and fled.
She caught the flash of surprise on his face, the creased brow, and then she was moving through the random wandering tourists, shoppers, and the forward marching office workers. She was moving as fast as she could go without breaking into an outright run, but still, her pace and expression earned her more than one startled look, a turned head.
It didn’t make any sense; she know it didn’t. They were married, they lived together. Where was she running? But sometimes you just ran because you weren’t strong enough for the truth.
“Marcella.”
He was calling her using that Master’s voice that said, What the fuck? Get your ass back here, but it had another layer to it as well. Tenderness, concern. Like h
e anticipated having to comfort her over a loss, over a hard decision.
Fuck it. She broke into a run, nearly bowling over a knot of teenagers on a field trip from Baton Rouge.
She’d run the night at the pond, with Mikhael and Raina, letting Ben chase her down to the water. Though she had the satisfaction of knowing she’d made him work for it, he’d still caught her. He always could, no matter how many workouts she did to increase her running speed. But then, she’d never had to run for her life. He had.
He caught up with her two streets over. She knew it a second before it happened, because she was bearing down on a lady with a twin stroller, but the woman’s wide-eyed look wasn’t directed at the crazed-looking woman charging toward her, but something just behind her.
A strong hand clamped down on Marcie’s wrist as he pulled even with her, brought her to a halt. She could have fought him, struggled, kept dragging them forward, but instead she just stopped. Went still as a bird in the grass, staring straight ahead, though she was breathless, panting from the exertion.
His other hand went to her waist, gripping, the palm conveying heat. His breath, also faster from chasing her, was on the crown of her head.
She’d gone over a hundred different things to say to him, but now, she had nothing, even though she knew she needed to have something. She had to have some kind of persuasion, some kind of argument to change his mind. Even as she knew the need to convince him would shatter her.
As he always had, he held everything, had all the answers, that mattered to her. That could end her.
Then he turned her toward him. Not gently, not an easing around. Like how he’d spin her toward him when they were dancing, yanking her up against his muscular body, letting her feel the pleasure of it from breast to hip.
His hand went under her hair, taking a firm grip in it, and then his mouth was on hers.
It was the kind of kiss that would make jaws drop, including the mother with the stroller. It was the kind of kiss that broadcast “I would totally fuck you right here if we wouldn’t get arrested.”
