Page 28

“And the baby?” she asks again, rubbing her stomach.

The muscles in my jaw tighten. “He’s being taken care of,” I repeat softly. “You’ll see him soon, but you need to recover first, my love. You have been through a lot.”

Pushing herself up so she’s leaning against the arm of the couch, Elena shivers. I put a cushion behind her then drape a blanket around her shoulders and another over her legs. “Are you hungry?” I ask, stroking the side of her face.

She frowns. “I’m not sure.” She rubs her temples and wrinkles her nose. “I have a headache.”

“You need to eat,” I tell her. “Stay right here. I’ll fetch food, and some sweet tea. We’ll have you right as rain in no time.”

“And then I can see the baby?” she asks, her eyes twinkling.

I force a smile to my lips, then I kiss her forehead as I stand up. “Stay here, Elena,” I repeat my instruction, meeting her eyes so she knows I am to be listened to.

Elena nods, then slides down a little and grips the blanket. She closes her eyes. “I’ll rest,” she says softly. “I’ll rest here until you return.”

I close the door softly, then release a deep sigh. “Andre!” I shout, although I have no idea if he survived the chaos outside or not. If not, someone else will come.

When Andre does appear, I’m neither pleased nor disappointed to see him.

“Master,” he says, tilting his head to display what looks like a vicious burn on the side of his face.

“Fetch food and tea for my wife.”

Andre looks past me at the door. If curiosity itches on his tongue, he does not allow it past his lips. “Yes, Master,” he says.

He’s turning to leave when I snap my fingers.

“Master?” he asks, spinning back to face me.

“Where is Eve?” I ask, squaring my shoulders so I tower above him.

“Outside, Master. She’s still outside.”

“She’s been out there all this time?”

“Yes, she has, Master.” Andre licks his lower lip. He looks like a nervous mongrel when he does that.

At the end of the corridor, movement catches my eye. “You!” I shout.

A teenage boy turns toward me. He is uninjured but wide-eyed. “Guard this door,” I tell him. “Do not move until I return.”

He nods quickly. “Yes, Ragnor,” he mutters.

Normally, I’d slap his moon-like face for calling me by my name instead of my title; by now, they should all know to address me as Master. But perhaps I’m feeling generous, because instead of reprimanding him I just grunt and stalk toward the front door.

I take the steps two at a time then loop around to the lawn. There is barely any sign of the events that took place last night. The cracks in the lawn have healed themselves, Eve’s altar and its ritualistic accoutrements have disappeared, and there is no gaping portal in the sky. In the half-light of the afternoon, everything is still.

Except for Eve.

She is in the distance, pacing back and forth in front of the tree line in her long, flowing dress. Her hair is wild and her arms trembling at her sides. When I reach her, she barely seems to notice I’m here.

I catch her arm. She spins to face me, her eyes nothing more than deep dark pools that make her face seem even smaller. The black veins that betray her filthy FHB addiction have spread from the corners of her eyes to the sides of her face. “Ragnor,” she whispers, “they have not returned.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Who have not returned?”

Eve hugs herself tightly and shakes her head. “My babies,” she whispers. “My poor babies.”

“Are you talking about the boys?” I ask, anger swirling like bile in my throat. I thought she’d know better than to mention Nico or Sam in my presence. They are gone and, as far as I’m concerned, they will never be thought of again.