I’m going to be okay, I said to myself as I pushed damp hair out of my face. Just breathe, Jolie. But that dream …
No matter how I looked at it, I had to believe it had something to do with my renewed sense of sickness. Even though the man in my dream had claimed that he played no part in my ailment, I didn’t believe him. Why else did I feel exactly the same as I had after that first Lurker attack?
’Course, you were pretty much on your deathbed the first time, I pointed out to myself. And you aren’t anywhere near as sick now as you were then.
But I wasn’t about to give in so easily. Maybe it’s just because I’m stronger now—my magic is much more advanced than before and I’m harder to take down.
But the apparition from your dream insisted he played no role …
Apparition wasn’t even the right name for it, though. No. Whatever I’d experienced couldn’t be cataloged as a dream, nor was it a vision. I was convinced that the Lurkers had made contact with me again. But unlike the time I’d had the battlefield dream, the contact was much more precise this time, more exact and bold.
What frightened me most was that whoever had contacted me, whether he truly was a Lurker elder or not, was convinced that I was a Lurker.
And that thought scared the hell out of me.
I pushed away from the sink and hobbled back into my bedroom, watching the rain splatter on the windowpanes as the tree branches appeared to fight against the wind, fighting an invisible enemy that was so much stronger they had no defense and could only snap and break.
What did it mean that this … entity insisted I was one of his people? What did he mean when he told me to return to where I belonged and rule as I was meant to?
I closed my eyes against the thoughts swarming through my head. And then something dawned on me. Something horrible and ugly. Something so atrocious and hideous that I could barely bring myself to consider it.
You are more than a witch, Jolie, my voice boomed within me. Mercedes and Mathilda both said you aren’t what you think you are …
Oh. My. God.
I shook my head, refusing to even consider it, refusing to play host to such a ridiculous and wholly disgusting thought, but I couldn’t force it from my head. I couldn’t stop replaying the dream. The words of the apparition echoed in my ears: “You are one of us.”
What if I’m a Lurker?
How could you be a Lurker? I argued with myself, feeling nausea gnawing at my gut once again. I closed my eyes and willed it away, breathing a little easier once it retreated. You have no vampiric traits …
But you know now that Lurkers aren’t just half-vampires. They possess magic. Maybe they are closer to witches than anyone knows …
And maybe they aren’t. Maybe I completely misunderstood that dream. And, furthermore, maybe it was just that—a dream and nothing more.
You know that isn’t true.
Well, I also know that sometimes things are much simpler than they appear. And you might be working yourself up about nothing more than an upsetting dream, spawned by a flu that you can’t seem to shake.
But I didn’t have the chance to give it further consideration, because just as the thought crossed my mind, I could hear the sound of heavy footsteps pounding against the wood stairs. Before I could take another breath, my bedroom door burst open.
Rand was standing there, soaking wet.
“Rand?” I started, and suddenly felt anxiety welling up inside me. But it wasn’t my own emotions—it was his concern, his worry transferring across our bond.
“Jolie, what’s wrong with you?” he demanded as he spanned the few steps separating us and engulfed me in his arms. I shivered against him. He glanced down at me, worry evident in his furrowed brows, and closed his eyes, enveloping us both in heat. He was instantly dry. He pushed me away from him then and narrowed his gaze on me, studying me deliberately. “You’re still very ill. You haven’t improved.”
I felt something constrict in my throat and I knew I couldn’t lie to him. Not when he could read my mind and feel my emotions. He had to know the truth—well, most of it. I wasn’t about to come out and tell him that I not only had a Lurker encounter, but I now thought I might actually be one. No, that was way too much for him to handle at the moment, and besides, I wasn’t even sure I was a Lurker. I mean, who is to say that the man in my dream was telling the truth?
You know he was a Lurker.
Either way, I wasn’t going to argue with myself any longer, and I also wasn’t going to tell Rand. Not yet, anyway. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I answered, and shook my head, feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. I just needed time and space to think, to figure some things out before I decided what to confide.
Above all, I could think of nothing that would kill Rand’s love for me faster than if I turned out to be one of our enemies.
But you have freedom of choice, Jolie, I said, arguing with myself again. Even if you do have Lurker blood inside of you, it doesn’t mean you have to become one of them.
I didn’t feel any relief at that thought, though, because I wasn’t sure how things worked. What if becoming a Lurker and turning against Rand and everyone else was like a trigger inside of me that could just be turned on at any minute? What if there was no way around it? What if the destruction of everything I knew was part of my destiny? What if I’d somehow been planted by the Lurkers so they could infiltrate the creatures of the Underworld? What if I were just a decoy? A sacrificial pawn in this game?
But if I were a Lurker, how could I be bonded with Rand? I asked myself. Only witches can bond with one another.
I shook my head, determined to stop answering the “what-ifs.” There were just too many of them, and I had no answers, only a landslide of questions. There was really no point in even contemplating any of it—not when the questions held no answers. No, once I had more information, I would go to Mercedes. She would know what to do.
“Do you think it’s another Lurker attack?” Rand asked, his eyes wide with fright.
I looked up sharply at his mention of the Lurkers, warned that he somehow witnessed my most recent dream or had clued into my thoughts, but there wasn’t anything in his eyes that hinted at that awareness. “Maybe,” I said solemnly. “But now I can magick away the sickness as soon as it comes, and I couldn’t do that the last time I was attacked.”
Rand cocked his head to the side and held his palm against my forehead, checking to see how hot I was. “But perhaps your magic was just not strong enough then, and that’s why you couldn’t treat yourself?”
“Yes, that occurred to me,” I said, and nodded up at him with a small smile. Rand enclosed me in his arms again, kissing the top of my head.
“I’m going to find Mercedes,” he said, lifting me up into his arms bride-style. He settled me down on my bed and nestled me under the duvet cover. After tucking me in as if I were all of five years old, he sat down beside me.
“Rand—” I started, wanting to talk him out of retrieving Mercedes. I was suddenly afraid that she might be able to detect the thoughts and feelings I was trying to conceal.
“No,” he said quickly. “Jolie, I’m frightened for you.” He stood up and started for the door, turning to face me once he reached the doorway. “I will return momentarily.”
I just nodded and closed my eyes, desperate to shut out the feelings of sickness that were welling up once again. A few minutes later I heard the sound of footsteps and opened my eyes to see Rand again and a worried-looking Mercedes.
“I don’t know what is wrong with her,” Rand said softly as he reached for my hand, enclosing it between both of his.
Mercedes looked down at me and smiled encouragingly, but I found no comfort in her expression. I was still way too concerned that she might somehow sense or realize that I’d been visited by a Lurker, and worse, that he’d told me I was one of them.
“Mathilda should be here shortly,” Mercedes announced, then closed her eyes as s
he held her palms up to my temples. I watched her lips twitch as she chanted something. Then she opened her beautiful eyes and they twinkled in her face like gems. “I don’t sense any type of magical block,” she said softly. “I don’t detect a magical attack of any sort.”
I heard the sound of someone else approaching, and then Mathilda appeared in my line of vision. Mercedes faced her and told her the same thing she’d just told me—she had no clue what was wrong with me.
Hmm, maybe that apparition in my dream was telling the truth—the Lurkers had nothing to do with this sickness, I told myself. Then I immediately forced the thoughts away, still afraid they would be detected.
Mathilda said nothing, but she strode up to my bedside and smiled down at me in a motherly sort of way. I’ve always liked Mathilda. But right then, I could say I honestly loved her. I loved how she was trying to put me at ease with her soft smile and sparkling eyes. She placed her hands on my cheeks and then moved them down to my collarbone, closing her eyes as she continued down my body, pausing momentarily when she reached my stomach. Then she leaned closer to me and shifted her hands around my belly, only to open her eyes again and nod as if she’d found the source of my illness.
Mathilda backed away then and motioned to Mercedes, and the two of them retired to the far end of the room. I was surprised that Rand didn’t follow them. Instead, he leaned closer to me and kissed my forehead. “Everything is going to be fine, Jolie,” he whispered. “We will find out what this sickness is, I promise, and we will heal you.”
“Rand?” Mercedes said, as she and Mathilda returned to my bedside.
“Yes?” he answered eagerly as he looked up at her, my hand still clasped in his.
“Would you mind leaving the room for a moment?” Mercedes asked. “Mathilda and I need to discuss something with Jolie.”
“Leave the room?” he repeated, a scowl marring his perfect features. “No, I will not.”
“We need to discuss this with Jolie first,” Mercedes insisted, her voice tight and firm, as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“What is wrong with her?” Rand demanded. “I need to know—”
“We will tell you momentarily,” Mercedes interrupted, her tone warning him not to argue. Then she reached out and took hold of his arm, leading him to the door. She said something in his ear that was too muffled for me to make out. When he nodded and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway, I knew that whatever she’d said had convinced him to leave.
“I’ll be just outside your door, Jolie,” he said, giving me a significant glance before he shut the door.
I nodded, my nerves on high alert. Why had Mercedes escorted him out? What did it mean? A sense of fear washed over me. Maybe I was dying and they didn’t want Rand to learn about it before I did. I closed my eyes against the panic that started rampaging through me.
“Jolie—” Mercedes started.
“What’s wrong with me?” I demanded. “Don’t beat around the bush! If I’m dying, just tell me!”
She laughed lightly and shook her head like the joke was on me. “There is nothing wrong with you.”
“But,” I said, as yet another wave of sickness washed through me, “there has to be something wrong with me.” I closed my eyes and willed the feeling to go away.
When I opened them again, I watched as Mathilda took a seat beside me, reaching for my hand. “There is nothing to be afraid of, dear,” she whispered.
“Why?” I demanded, still on full alert.
Mathilda glanced back at Mercedes, who was smiling broadly. Mercedes nodded encouragingly, and Mathilda turned back to face me again, a big smile on her face as well. “You are with child.”
It took me a good thirty seconds to fully comprehend her words. “What?” I asked, not completely sure I’d heard her right.
“You are pregnant,” Mercedes answered, still smiling as she approached us. “Our Queen is carrying an heir.”
“How … how do you know?” I asked breathlessly, trying to count backward in my mind to the last time I’d had my period. It was due right around now … “My period isn’t even late yet,” I said, having a hard time believing that this sickness could be so benign, and better yet … so wonderful. But I couldn’t get my hopes up, not yet. “I feel like I’m dying—the same way I felt after I was attacked by the Lurkers.”
“You are not dying,” Mathilda said, and laughed.
“You just have morning sickness,” Mercedes added.
I shook my head again. “Are you sure?” They both nodded.
“Absolutely certain,” Mathilda said, patting my hand encouragingly. “I could feel the energy of the baby within you. She is strong and healthy.”
“She?” I asked, then gulped down the sudden flood of happiness that overwhelmed me. “You can tell it’s a girl?”
Mathilda laughed. “No, but I am hoping for a princess.”
I took a deep breath, my amazement devouring me, and then something occurred to me—something that tempered any joy I was feeling. “But … I thought … I thought witches weren’t able to procreate?”
“Then the father is Rand?” Mercedes asked, probably struck by the fact that I’d said “witches.”
I frowned at her, thinking that the answer was obvious. I hadn’t even considered that the baby might be Sinjin’s, since vampires weren’t able to reproduce.
“Yes, of course,” I said as the realization that I was carrying Rand’s baby dawned on me. I felt another flood of sunshine pouring through me, and couldn’t keep the smile from my face.
I was pregnant with Rand’s baby …
Mercedes’ expression had turned serious. “It is not that witches cannot procreate,” she said. “They just have a difficult time carrying to term.”
The happiness I felt was suddenly snuffed out. I automatically covered my stomach with a protective hand, and right then and there I vowed that I would do anything and everything to keep this baby—my baby—safe. “What … what does that mean?”
Mercedes took a deep breath. “It means that you must be incredibly careful.”
“Or it could mean something altogether different,” Mathilda chimed in as she glanced at Mercedes.
“What?” I demanded.
“Perhaps you will not have any issues at all,” Mercedes said, and smiled down at me as if she knew something I didn’t.
“Why?”
“Because, as I’ve always told you, I never believed you to be a mere witch, Jolie. Your power is too strong, your abilities too varied. Perhaps you have proven it by the very fact that you are pregnant.”
“And if you have the blood of the fae within you, your chances of delivering this child will be much better,” Mathilda added. She was now beaming proudly at the thought that I could be of her own kind. “What is more, we believe that you have been touched by the fae, child.”
I swallowed hard, all too aware that the fae might not be in my family tree at all, that maybe this pregnancy added credence to the idea that I was part Lurker.
I can’t be a Lurker! I thought to myself. I’m a witch or I’m fae or I’m both, as Mathilda said … I just can’t be a Lurker!
“I … I have to tell Rand,” I said softly.
Mercedes nodded and backed away. “That’s why I sent him away. You should be the one to impart this news, not us.”
I eyed Mathilda and could see the worry eating away at her usually serene expression. She looked over at me and smiled consolingly. “You know he will worry,” she said. “Do not allow it to dampen your spirits. This is a joyous occasion.”
Then it dawned on me that Rand was definitely going to worry—he’d be a mess because he’d focus on the sad fact that most witches weren’t able to carry to term. “But if I really am just a witch,” I began, facing Mercedes, knowing she’d give me an honest answer, “could this baby kill me?”
She took a deep breath. “I have seen witches die during childbirth,” she answered simply. “But you are not a mere witch, Jo
lie.”
I nodded, trying to take comfort in her words. I only hoped she was right. I watched as Mathilda stood up and started for the door, Mercedes following her. When they opened it, Rand strode inside, his expression broadcasting his concern. Mercedes smiled at him and patted his chest as she walked past him, Mathilda beside her. Rand faced me with confusion as the two of them left the room, closing the door.
I sat up in bed, feeling another bout of sickness, but just smiled broadly.
“Jolie,” Rand said as he sat by my side. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath and tried to commit this moment to memory—I knew we would never have it again. “I’m okay, Rand,” I started, and took his hand.
“Tell me the truth,” he demanded, his countenance rigidly insistent.
I smiled. “I’m sick because I’m pregnant.”
There was no expression at all on his face for a few seconds. He just stared at me blankly, and then his eyebrows knotted and he gulped. “This baby could threaten your life,” he said simply.
I shook my head as he stood up and ran his hands through his hair. “Rand, I’m not just a witch,” I said softly. “Mathilda believes there is fae in me.” I felt the words stick in my throat as I said them, all too aware that I might not be fae at all. “You know I’m more than a witch.”
“Then Mercedes and Mathilda do not believe your health will be threatened?” he asked, his gaze piercing.
I nodded, smiling up at him encouragingly. “Mathilda said it is nothing but a joyous occasion.” I watched him take a big breath. “Rand, you don’t have to worry.”
“Then this sickness is nothing more than morning sickness?” he asked eagerly.
I nodded. “Yes, it’s just morning sickness,” I answered, and laughed in an almost embarrassed way. I mean, here I was thinking I was dying and it was just baby sickness? Yeah, pretty embarrassing. “Everything is going to be fine.”