by Am Hudson
I knew that. But I also knew that, without me there to steer her, she may very well meet a certain boy soon, and once that happened, she would no longer be our little baby girl. She’d be his. As she was destined to be.
“Stop worrying.” He smoothed his thumb over my wrinkled knuckles. “It’s New Year’s Eve. Let’s go out and drink—enjoy being over twenty-one. It’ll be our last chance before we begin school again.”
I smiled. He was right. We’d given so much to raising our daughter—never really went out, never acted like the teens we were when we had her—and now that she was away for a while, living her own life, it was kind of okay if we went out and enjoyed a bit of adult fun. I knew I should take advantage of my age before it was gone and I was a teen again, but for some reason I felt guilty.
“I promise I won’t tell Elora if you don’t.” David grinned at me, tugging my hand.
“She’d laugh if we told her we went out and got tanked at a New Year’s Eve party.”
When he laughed loudly, he sounded just like her. “Yes, and imagine what she’ll say when we tell her we’re going to school with her next year.”
“I’m more worried about what she’ll say when we tell her we’re vampires—and that she is.”
“She’ll take that better than the news that her parents are coming to school to spy on her.”
“We’re not spying,” I corrected, but it was a lie and I knew it.
David smiled warmly. “Knowing our daughter, she’ll take it in her stride, and the youthful Ara-Rose from Australia will become her new best friend.”
I thought back to my first day of school—to when I met Emily. “Things will be so different this time.”
“It’ll be a blast,” he said, pulling my hand again. “Just as a night out will be. Now let’s go.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, pulling away. “Let me get my bag first.”
“I’ll wait in the car.”
“I’ll just be a sec.”
He disappeared, and I walked into the bathroom to fix my hair and makeup. Over the years, layering my face with special creams and toxic lotions to age my skin, I’d lost that horrid red smudge across my nose and cheeks that always gave away when I’d been crying. David didn’t notice that my lashes were still wet when he came in, and since he couldn’t see the red smudge anymore, he would never know, and so he couldn’t ask what was wrong. Which I was glad of, because I needed to be sure before I breathed a word of it.
I looked in the mirror at the dark circles under my eyes, running my hands under some cold water and splashing it on my face. I didn’t feel like drinking tonight. I still felt dizzy and a little bit unwell from this flu I’d somehow managed to catch—despite my immortality. But I’d been reminded many times over in my life that Lilithians can still get sick, and worrying about Elora, I guess, had lowered my immune system.
Or maybe it hadn’t.
I placed one hand against my stomach as I picked up the stick on the sink, and my heart did a flip as the impossible stared back at me. I ran it over in my mind—the days since my last period, the nausea, the moodiness—it wasn’t possible. But a small blue ‘plus’ glared up at me from the tiny window of the pregnancy test, and as it wobbled under a thick layer of tears, my hands shaking, I dropped it to the floor and sunk down on my knees.
I wanted another baby so badly, all my life, that I would have given anything, but not for another soulless child. How would I tell David we were back to square one—choosing which one of us would give up our life for our new baby girl?
It couldn’t be true. The test had to be wrong I decided, with a violent shake of my head. Every test I did when I was pregnant with Elora showed up negative. Why would that change now?
My thoughts flashed back for one single moment to when Arthur stopped me on the stairs that day—so long ago, before I knew I was pregnant with Elora. I saw myself hand the pregnancy test I’d been carrying to him—ask him to hold onto it for me. And a realisation hit me like white light: he didn’t want me to know I was pregnant then. He was protecting that secret fiercely. He could have easily tampered with the test.
Everything I’d been told so far about Lilithians and pregnancy had been wrong. Why wouldn’t my pregnancy show up on a test, if every other Lilithian pregnancy among our people since then has?
Trying hard to breathe and just focus, I looked down at my flat belly. It was a young foetus—no more than six weeks gestation—I knew that much. I’d felt a tiny flicker of energy once, a few weeks ago, but I ignored it, not sure what it was. And as time went by, I grew surer and surer that there was life there. Which is why I took that test. But this felt different. Everything about this pregnancy felt different. It was as if, now that it was confirmed, I could connect with its life force—its soul. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
I closed my eyes and tried to feel for the same energy I felt with Elora, but no, again, it was completely different.
“Ara!” David knocked on the bathroom door.
I gasped, quickly wiping my eyes. “Uh… um. Just a minute.”
“Ara?” he said again, his voice liquid with concern. He shook the handle. “Ara, what’s wrong?”
“Um. Nothing,” I said, but it was such a big fat lie that I burst into tears, giving up on trying to stand, and just knelt there on the floor and cried.
The door flew open and David landed on his knees beside me, his strong, familiar arms wrapping me up. “What is it, my love? What’s wrong? Is it Elora, do you—”
“No.” I shook my head, burying my face in his shoulder.
“Then…” He leaned back and looked at my tear-streaked face. “What is it?”
“We can’t go to school with Elora.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” He laughed. “Because we don’t have to. If you’re worried she’ll hate us—”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I pushed out of his arms and knelt forward to pick up the test. “It’s this.”
I placed it in his hand, watching as he turned it over and saw the little plus sign, his eyes lighting up as it sunk in.
“You’re pregnant?”
“Mm-hm.” I nodded, my face crumpling in an ugly way, then I burst into sobs again.
“So… are you crying because you’re hormonal, or because you don’t want the baby?”
“Because she’ll be soulless, David!”
He leaned back a bit as the volume in my voice nearly shattered his ears. Then, he laughed.
“What?” I said, wiping my cheeks.
He just laughed louder, curling his hand round the test.
“Stop it!” I slapped his arm. “Why are you laughing?”
He jumped up, placed the test on the sink, and picked me up under the arms, sweeping me into a huge hug as he spun us around.
“Stop it,” I said, whacking his back, but he kept spinning, making me want to throw up. When he finally put me down, I punched his arm and ran for the toilet, lifting the seat. But my stomach settled as he squatted beside me, his elbow over his knee, and grinned at me as if he was waiting for me to catch on to some joke.
“Ara?” he said, still waiting.
“What?”
“Safia’s magic died when she did.”
“And?”
“And she was the one that placed that curse on your womb, remember?” His whole face was altered by that know-it-all smirk, and if the sudden realisation of the truth hadn’t just changed the rest of my entire life, I would have punched him again for being so arrogant.
“She won’t be soulless,” I breathed, touching my belly, finally allowing myself to feel the life within me—to really listen to it and picture a healthy baby growing there.
“No, my love.” He drew my other hand away from the toilet bowl and kissed it. “She, or he, won’t be soulless.”
My eyes widened as he said that. I looked up at him, a huge smile spreading my mouth.
“What?” he asked. “You have your ‘I get it’ f
ace on.”
“Because I do.” I pressed up on one foot and stood; David stood too, looking at me with a very contorted grin.
“Get what?” he asked, brushing my cheek. “What does my pretty little wife finally understand?”
“Why it feels so different to Elora. David!” I grabbed his hand and placed it on my belly. “It has a soul. I can feel it. He… has a soul.”
“He?” He looked up from my belly. “For real?”
I could hardly breathe, but I nodded and managed a quiet whimper, which was supposed to be a yes.
“And you’re sure?” he asked, holding back his excitement.
“It’s a boy, David.” I nodded vigorously. “I’m certain of it.”
He laughed, running his hand through his hair as he stepped back. “Then I guess we’d better not go out drinking tonight.”
I laughed too, laying both hands over my belly to feel the pulse of life beat back against them. “No, I think we’d better stay home and talk baby names.”
“Harry,” he said, moving back in to touch my belly again. “We’ll name him Harry.”
“Really?”
The dimple I always loved pressed into his cheek, even under the aged skin, and as I saw the certainty in his eyes, I let myself imagine our little boy with a dimple just like his dad’s.
“I like that,” I said, seeing this whole new future I could never have possibly imagined. “A little Harry all of our own.”
Acknowledgements
How can I thank so many people without writing another entire novel to truly explain just how much everyone has meant to me and how they’ve helped me along the way?
I’m sitting here writing this acknowledgement while notifications of emails are flooding in: my review team sending me their addresses to get their ARCs. I’ll start by thanking all the people that have reviewed the series, both those that were on a team and those that did it just because they love the books so much and wanted to tell others. Without you all, no one would read the series. I owe so much to you.
Second, I need to thank my Feedback Team, often called my Beta Team, and also the DSS Secret Discussion Page. I wish I could list all of you by name, both past and present members, but I’d need a lot of pages to do that. Instead, I wrote some of my team into the book. I couldn’t fit everyone in, and I had to cut some names and lines, but you are all there in spirit, as you are throughout this entire series! You guys have been my rock in hard times and, now, I am proud to call you all friends. I hope we have a long and happy future together sharing great stories.
For those that don’t know, the scene in the dungeons (where the girls help Ara escape) was written for my Feedback Team, and the personal address from Ara to those girls near the end of the book was aimed directly at my team too. Words will never be enough to express my gratitude, but I needed to have Ara thank them on my behalf as well.
Thirdly, I must thank my new editor John (editor of Echoes Part One and Two), who didn’t edit this acknowledgement, so if anyone finds typos, that’s my fault. John made life so much easier, and as I scrolled through to approve or decline changes, I laughed constantly at the mistakes I’d made (some really stupid ones like bows instead of boughs—and he picked them all up), and also at the comments he’d make. He’s a great editor and as I wrote these last two books, not sure about capitals, commas, semicolons, or em/en dashes, I knew he’d fix them, which allowed me to relax and just focus on the story. Although I messed some of that up a bit too by giving Arthur a heartbeat at one point, but John picked up on that. So a big thanks to John.
Lastly, as all of this comes to an end, all the craziness, the tears, the sweat, the blood, literally, in some cases, I have to thank my family. They’ve put up with all the ups and downs, the take out, the cereal for dinner, the bursts of stress or tears when I had ‘writer’s block’ and the untidy house when I didn’t; the lack of uniforms on a school morning, the many times I wave my hand at the kids when they come to ask me something, telling them to rack off until I finish this paragraph. Also to my sisters, who I have turned down for coffee and a catch up many times due to my need to write; to my mum for being my foundation for everything in life, and most importantly, to my husband Mike, for loving me through the fray and always being there to support and encourage me when I wanted to give up. Also for listening when I talk endlessly about writing and books and the entire world of publishing.
But I cannot leave without thanking my readers! For all the comments and posts and sharing and liking and words of love and encouragement at both the high times and the low times. You are all my shining light. And I owe this novel, this series, to you all.
Now, as it comes to an end, I want to tell you all that I love you and I appreciate you more than you will ever know. Thanks for being with me on this journey.
