I’m gearing up to intervene when Roman puts a hand out to stop me.
“Patience, Mr Roe,” he whispers. “We need to wait for her to touch him.”
My eyes are drawn back to Ridley and Allora, and now I see that he’s holding out his good hand to her. Time seems to move in slow motion as she reaches out to take it. The second she does Roman emerges from his hiding spot. His lips move rapidly as he casts a whispered spell; all variety of colours stream from his body. Ridley freezes in place when he sees the sorcerer advancing on him. He tries to pull his hand from Allora’s but she grips it tight.
“You stole this young lady’s sight, Warlock,” Roman announces. “Now I shall take one of your senses in order to return the eyes you took from her.”
“What madness is this!?” Ridley shouts desperately. “I have already lost a hand because of her.”
“That was nobody’s fault but your own. To try to steal the power of another is one of the worst crimes a warlock can commit. You must be punished.”
Roman throws a blast of golden magic at Ridley’s face. It slithers right into his ears and he begins to scream. Allora is still holding his hand, still watching what Roman is doing to the warlock with a look of horror on her face.
With only the slightest nod of his head, the magic shoots from Ridley’s ears into Allora’s eyes. I’ve seen some crazy stuff in my time, and now I’ve another to add to the list. She whimpers and finally loosens her hold. I hurry to her side, catching her in my arms a moment before she would’ve hit the ground. She stares at me and as I take her in I see how her eyes are focused now. She can see.
“Hey,” I murmur, rubbing my thumb along the base of her neck.
“Hi,” she murmurs back, staring at me in amazement. I smile and she returns the expression.
“I can’t hear! I can’t hear!” Ridley shouts clutching at his now useless ears.
Roman grabs him and makes a motion akin to pulling a gag around someone’s mouth and Ridley falls completely silent, though he continues to struggle.
A second later the front door to the house flies open and Marcel emerges. He takes in the scene before him with his mouth gaping wide.
“What have you done to him?” he asks stunned.
“Take us to Theodore or I will end his life here and now,” Roman threatens.
Marcel looks at the sorcerer properly and his gaping mouth hangs even wider. “Roman Abraham, it cannot be,” he whispers in shock.
“I’m afraid it can and it is. Now, take us to Theodore or you are both as good as dead.”
Finally, Marcel comes to his senses and leads us inside the house.
Tegan
I’m still wondering if I’m dreaming.
I mean, me, pregnant? It’s just too crazy. I might not be too young to be a mother, but I definitely feel too young. And that’s presuming I actually survive the birth, which most mothers pregnant with dhamphir babies don’t. That’s also presuming the baby survives.
A sense of grief hits me like a freight train at the thoughts of losing a child. I’ve only known this was real for a matter of minutes and already I can’t take the idea of not seeing what’s inside of me live and thrive. I’m not strong enough to deal with that kind of heartbreak right now. There’s already so much else to deal with.
I look up at Ethan and there’s no mistaking the utter joy on his face. He wants this. He really, really wants this. Suddenly, a sadness overcomes me at the idea of him being prepared to lose me if it meant I could give him a child. Is that all I really am to him, a walking womb?
Delilah must sense the building tension, because she quickly makes her excuses and leaves. Before she makes it out the door she sticks her head back in and asks, “Um, should I tell the others?”
I shrug and turn to stare out the window. “Sure, if you want.”
I don’t really care about them knowing, I’m too wrapped up in my own fears and insecurities. I tug the blankets tight around myself, my stomach still queasy as hell. It rumbles and a stab of pain shoots through my gut. Jesus, I don’t know a lot about regular old human pregnancies, but if they’re anything like getting knocked up by a vampire then I feel sorry for every mother who’s ever gone before me.
I don’t make eye contact with Ethan when I say, “There’s a chance she could be mistaken, right? This could just be a case of food poisoning or a bug or something.”
He frowns and stands up, walking over to the bed to sit on the edge beside me. Taking my hand into his, he continues to frown at me. His other hand moves across my chest and down to my belly.
In a low voice, he says, “Food poisoning doesn’t put an extra heart beat inside of you, Tegan. I wasn’t paying enough attention before. Now that I am I can hear it beating as loud as a drum in my ears.”
“You can hear it?” I whisper.
His only response is a smile.
After a few moments of quiet thought, I ask, “You really want a baby with me?”
“Of course I do. I adore you. Knowing you are with child makes this one of the happiest days of my life,” he answers fervently.
“Well, that’s certainly high praise considering just how many days you’ve been alive,” I joke half-heartedly to distract myself from my inner turmoil.
Ethan gives me a little pinch and chuckles. “It’s rude to remind a vampire of his age, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” I grin. “That’s why I did it.”
He moves further onto the bed and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “You are stronger than you know, my love. Don’t be afraid. I know you will survive, I can feel it. If I thought you might die I would never have been careless enough to get you pregnant in the first place.”
“Well, it does take two to tango. I was careless as well.”
He smirks but then gets back to business. “I must arrange for a physician to come and examine you. We need to know how far along you are. It can’t be more than a week or so, but I want to ensure you are in optimum health.”
I drift off for a nap after that, relatively reassured that Ethan isn’t just using me to give him an heir, like this is some nineteenth century period drama. I’m woken up about three hours later by Delilah, who gives me a tender smile that holds too many emotions. I can’t look at smiles like that right now and I wish she’d stop.
“Dr Hendricks is here,” she says. “Is it okay for him to come in?”
“Sure.”
After that she returns with a young looking vampire with brown hair and dark eyes. He introduces himself and congratulates me. I don’t know how to react to congratulations just yet, so I don’t say anything. It’s kind of weird being congratulated on the fact that both you and your baby have a ninety percent chance of not surviving.
He asks me an endless number of questions before examining me.
“How long does this take?” I ask and he quirks a curious eyebrow at me. “I mean, how long am I going to be pregnant for? Is it nine months like human births?”
He purses his lips and begins packing away his stethoscope. “No. Dhamphir gestation periods are usually between three and four months. Development is much quicker in these…sorts of cases. That’s why there’s already a heartbeat.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? It means I won’t be the size of an elephant for too long.”
“May I speak frankly?” he asks and I nod.
“Vampire babies take just two months to be born from the date of conception. Dhamphirs take longer because you are essentially putting a vampire foetus in a human body that is not equipped with the proper genetics to carry it, and that’s why both mother and baby often…do not survive.”
“Jesus. You weren’t joking about being frank,” I mutter.
“I find that in situations like this, it’s best to be honest.” He goes quiet for a moment, almost like he’s hesitating over whether or not to say what he wants to say next. “I’ve been informed of your, shall we say, powers. Perhaps there’s a way that you could channel your magic i
nto the foetus?”
“I wish I knew how to do that,” I tell him honestly.
“Are there any female relatives you might consult with?” he suggests.
I bite my lip, thinking of Emilia. The chances of her deciding to give me pregnancy advice are slim to none. “No, I don’t think so.”
At this Ethan enters the room, asking how everything is going. He and the doctor begin to talk but I don’t follow their conversation. I hear something about being one week along, but I already know that. My mind is adrift. I’ve never considered myself to be a particularly maternal person, but all of a sudden I feel like I would die to protect this tiny little thing that’s growing inside of me.
I used think that people having babies was simply another way for human beings to feed their own narcissism by creating a miniature version of themselves. But now that it’s actually happening to me, I know that it isn’t like that at all. I feel almost primal in my need to protect my child and it’s hardly even the size of anything yet. In this moment I know I’ll do everything in my power to ensure its survival.
And that includes getting down on my knees and grovelling to Emilia to help me find a way to save it.
Chapter Fourteen
A Doll on a Music Box
Finn
Marcel marches into the house like a moody housewife with visitors who have shown up unannounced before she’s had the chance to make the place presentable. Roman still has a hold of Ridley who is seething with barely contained rage.
I almost feel sorry for the guy, but then I remember that this is the same fellow who set fire to Rita and Noreen’s house all those weeks ago. He’s also the same fellow who kept Allora locked up in his home like a prisoner.
Yep, not feeling so bad for him anymore.
Inside there’s barely a scrap of furniture to be found anywhere, just white walls and beige carpets.
“I really love what you’ve done with the place,” I joke and Marcel narrows his eyes to slits. “Minimalism is so hot right now.”
We walk right through the house and out the back. It seems that all the effort to jazz the place up has been put into the garden. There are swings, monkey bars and all variety of playground toys amid the perfectly segmented flowers and bushes. Theodore is hanging upside down by the legs from one of the monkey bars. Rita’s perched on the swings wearing a long black dress, and over by a blossoming rose bush is Rebecca. She’s standing perfectly still on top of a large, brightly coloured box. Her eyes are closed, like she’s been induced into a magical sleep, and there are tubes on her arms with blood flowing through them.
Okay, what the fuck?
I half expect Emilia to be lounging nearby with a glass of lemonade in her hand, but she isn’t. She’s sitting on a bench; her arms are tied behind her back with duct tape and the same goes for her legs. She must have been crying at some stage because her mascara has run all down her face.
I stare at Rebecca again and understand exactly why Emilia had been crying. The little girl’s blood is flowing through the tubes and out of her body where it floats in the air in the shape of a rose. Theodore swishes his hands at the blood when he sees me looking and the shape changes into a monstrous face. I jump with fright because he does it so quickly. He giggles and the face dissolves and transforms into glittering star shapes.
“This blood really is a wonder,” he muses, seeming not at all bothered by our sudden presence. He sweeps his hand out in front of himself and the blood stars turn into glittering red rubies hovering in the air. Rita continues to swing back and forth, taking us all in with no reaction. Roman, on the other hand, is staring at the witch with interest.
As the blood swishes through the air around Rebecca, I recognise that she’s standing on a human sized music box. The blood begins to whistle as it moves rapidly through the air, creating a shiver inducing tune. Rebecca’s body starts to turn around in circles and Theodore claps in delight as he watches his horrific creation. He’s playing with her blood, I think to myself, entertaining himself with the power it contains.
The sorcerer’s eyes flick to Roman. “I felt your presence return to the city, young Roman. Welcome home, it’s been a while.”
“That it has,” Roman replies and I wonder if I’m the only one who finds it odd that Theodore referred to him as young. It’s not that he looks old, but I just get this feeling that he is. Which only begs the question, how old is Theodore?
“We have come for Emilia and the girl,” Roman goes on. “Release them and there will be no bloodshed.”
Theodore suddenly looks intrigued. “Is that a threat?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t like threats.”
“Few people do.”
“You know, I was once threatened by another sorcerer about your age,” Theodore recalls. “I cut out his heart for doing so. It was actually a lucky thing, because I needed the heart for a spell I was casting.”
“Fresh hearts are a rare commodity,” Roman agrees.
I almost laugh at how they talk like they’re having a friendly chat over a cup of tea.
“This is outrageous,” Marcel exclaims. “Grandfather, they have taken Michael’s hearing! Something needs to be done.”
“Hush now,” says Theodore motioning him to quieten down and returning his attention to Roman. “Why do you want them?”
“They are not yours to keep, and I have promised my kin that I would assist her in this matter.”
Now Theodore really looks intrigued. “Your kin?”
“Tegan,” Rita says out of nowhere. I’d started to think she’d lost the ability to talk since it’s been so long since I heard her voice. “His magic looks like Tegan’s.”
Roman smiles widely at her, so wide it’s almost creepy. I can’t tell whether he wants to kiss her or kill her – perhaps a mixture of the two.
“You are related to my dear little treasure?” Theodore questions with a disconcertingly cheerful expression. “Why, this is a cause to celebrate.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be doing that, Theodore. Now, return the girl’s blood to her body so that we can be done here. I will kill this warlock I am holding if you refuse.”
“Go ahead, kill him. I have no use for a deaf warlock,” Theodore says with startling casualness.
“Grandfather!” Marcel cries. “Michael is our friend. We can’t let him die just like that.”
“Yeah,” I interject. “Poor old Captain Hook here already lost his hand.” Almost everyone ignores my joke, which, might I add, was pretty funny.
“Would you prefer I gave up Emilia and the girl?” Theodore questions sharply and I see the crazy coming out in his eyes.
Marcel remains silent.
Unexpectedly, Roman releases his hold on Ridley, shoving him away. I’m about to ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing when he disappears. Seconds later he reappears behind Rita. He takes the chain of the swing and wraps it tight around her neck.
She squeals and begins trying to cast a spell to get away from him, but Roman casts one quicker and her hands fall limp. I can tell he’s done something similar to what she’d done to me and the others when we’d been forced into those head bags and jumpsuits and transported to Crimson. He’s controlling her body. He leans close enough to whisper in her ear, “Relax, dear, there is no use trying to fight it. I am stronger.” His hand travels down her body in an undeniably sexual manner.
“Perhaps I was using the wrong currency,” Roman says and Theodore jumps down off the monkey bars.
“Let her go.”
“I will once you do as I asked.”
Theodore doesn’t make a move and Roman tightens the chain around Rita’s neck, wrenching a gurgled cry from her. Theodore’s eyes go black as tar, the dark irises completely covering the whites.
“You will regret this,” he seethes but Roman makes no move to release Rita.
Theodore closes his eyes and moves his hand, shifting Rebecca’s blood back through the tubing on her arms and insi
de her body. The box she’s standing on stops moving and the awful music ceases. Once all of the blood has been returned to her she opens her eyes and blinks.
Strangely enough, the first person she recognises is Ira. She jumps off the box and runs to him. He picks her up, holding her safely in his arms.
A chill runs down my spine when Theodore’s black eyes land on me. “You, release Emilia from her restraints.”
“Eye, eye, Captain,” I salute him and hurry to the older woman. I pull a Swiss army knife from my pocket and cut off the duct tape, which sizzles as though it’s been infused with magic. She exhales in relief once she’s free and I lead her across the garden to the others. She reaches for Rebecca, but the little girl holds tighter onto Ira, refusing to allow Emilia near her.
What happens next goes down so quickly that if I’d blinked I’d have missed it. Roman loosens the chain from Rita’s neck and then my head goes foggy as he transports us all with magic again. When I can see clearly seconds later I’m standing on the street outside Cristescu’s and everybody’s heading inside the house.
Everyone except for me and Allora. She’s leaning against the gate, staring at me in wonder. I smile at her and she blushes.
“Well,” I say jokingly. “Am I as handsome as you thought I’d be?”
“Shut up.”
“What? It’s a legitimate question. You said you thought I was handsome, but I’m not sure how good of a judge a pair of hands are.”
She glances up at me now. “You’re very handsome, Finn. My hands are a fine judge.”
I take a step toward her, closing the distance between us until there’s none left. “And you are so fucking beautiful it’s hard to look at you sometimes,” I tell her in a low voice, trailing my fingers along her jaw. She sucks in a shaky breath, unable to make eye contact.
“We should go inside,” she suggests.
“Yeah, we should. But first, how are you feeling? Any weirdness from the magic?”
She shakes her head. “No. I feel fine. All this light is a little hard to get used to, but I’ll adapt.”