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I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t. Instead, she keeps her gaze out of her window so I can’t see her face until we arrive at the small, boutique hotel in the Warehouse District of New Orleans.
“What’s this?” she asks as we pull up to the valet stand.
I smile at her. “Part of the surprise.” I climb out, grab the duffel and walk to her side of the car to open the door for her. Handing the keys to the valet, I take her hand and we walk inside.
She looks around at the small, but beautifully appointed lobby as I check in. It is a lovely space, vibrantly colorful yet elegantly done, the furniture custom made, the carpets lush, every detail carefully selected for its beauty. Willow peers into the bright blue and white dining room, and the look on her face tells me I was right to bring her here.
“This way, Mr. Delacroix,” a man says, taking the heavy key—the tassel a nice touch—and leading us toward an old-fashioned elevator.
We follow and ride up in silence, whatever Willow has on her mind darkening her mood. The attendant shows us to our room, and I slip him a generous tip. “Oh, one more thing,” I say just before he leaves. “Breakfast. Can you have some of everything sent up?”
“Everything?”
I glance at Willow who is looking out the window and nod to the man. “Wait, no meat. She’s a vegetarian.”
“Yes, sir. Everything without meat. But… That’s still a lot of food.”
“Perfect. Thanks.”
He looks like he wants to say more but I close the door and turn to my wife. She takes a deep breath in and pastes a smile on her face.
“I’ve never been in one of the rooms. It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”
“I thought you might like it.” I take her hands and lead her to sit on the edge of the bed. “What were you going to say in the car?”
She looks away, her eyes growing shiny with tears.
“Willow, you need to—"
“I want you to promise me something,” she blurts out. I wait, watching her with concern. “If something happens to me, this baby… you’ll make sure this baby isn’t raised by Salomé.”
“What?”
“You’ll make sure my family raises her.”
“Is that what… Jesus, is this what you’ve been thinking about?”
She shrugs a shoulder, wipes away a tear. “I just need to know she’ll be okay.”
“Willow—”
“Promise me, Azrael.”
“Nothing is going to happen to you. I told you that,” I say more harshly than I intend.
“If it does. I just need to be sure—”
“You listen to me, Willow Delacroix—”
“Wildblood. I didn’t take your name.”
“We’re changing that, too. Now you listen to me, Willow Delacroix,” I say, taking her face in my hands and making her look at me when she tries to turn away. “Nothing is going to happen to you or to this baby. Nothing. Caleb Church and those idiot Disciples will be dealt with. The curse, Shemhazai, Salomé, it’s over. It’s fucking over. I won’t hurt you. And I won’t let anyone else hurt you either. It’s over.”
“Az—”
“I love you,” I say, shifting my hand to cup the back of her head and pull her to me. “I fucking love you and the thought of hurting you, of you being hurt, it makes me sick. It makes me fucking sick. Do you hear me?”
She looks up at me, and I feel the sting of salt in my own eyes when I see hers spill over. She reaches up to touch my face, fingers tentative and uncertain.
“Tell me you heard me. Because that day in the cabin when you wouldn’t open your eyes, when you wouldn’t wake up… All I know is that to see you like that, see you so hurt, it almost killed me. I love you, Willow. And I will take care of you better than I have been. I promise you that, sweetheart. I promise you.”
She bursts into tears, and I pull her to me as she wraps her arms around my neck, sobs wracking her body. I hold her. I hold her so tight because this is her release. This is all that anxiety, all that fear, years of it exacerbated by this goddamned curse, by Caleb fucking Church; this is her release, and I hold her because I will take all her pain, all her fear away. I will take all the sadness away. What I saw on the night of the Tithing, all that color, all that vibrancy and life and joy within that house, I will give that back to her, and I will bring it into our home.
“Shh, sweetheart,” I whisper into her ear as she quiets, as her tears subside and her body yields softly to me. “Shh.” I lift her in my arms and pull the blankets back to lay her down. She cups my face and looks at me, the blue of her eyes made brighter by the tears. She kisses my mouth and watches as I slip off her shoes, undo the buttons of her dress and take that off too before stripping off panties and bra and standing back to look at her for a long minute, seeing how much fuller her breasts have grown, imagining my baby inside her. Our baby.
