Chapter 20
TWENTY
LAUREN
Two hours later, we’re all gathered around the massive dining table, digging into the fresh cinnamon rolls I helped Hannah bake from scratch this morning. The kitchen still smells like butter and sugar and home.
Well, the humans are digging into the rolls. Romulus and his brothers are tearing into barely cooked steak—so rare it’s practically still breathing.
I have to actively look away from where Abaddon devours his meal, holding the massive slab between his clawed hands, bloody juice dripping down his muscled forearms and onto the plate below.
Hannah seems completely oblivious to her husband’s utter lack of interest in utensils—perhaps having given up that particular battle years ago.
Baby Raven just flits in the air around her father’s head, her tiny wings beating rapidly as she picks up little pieces of meat he tears off and discards on his plate for her.
She stuffs them into her mouth with her small clawed hands, making happy chirping sounds.
It’s weirdly domestic despite the carnage.
Kharon and Ksenia finally come downstairs, moving slowly. “It’s happening again,” Kharon says, voice tight with concern. One of his three sets of arms holds firmly to his wife as she walks, supporting her weight.
Ksenia looks absolutely exhausted—dark circles under her pale eyes, her skin almost translucent. She pauses halfway to the table to hold her massive stomach, breathing hard.
My eyes widen when she winces, her whole body tensing.
Another set of Kharon’s hands shoot out to surround her stomach protectively as the ghostly specter of runes—like I’ve seen the family use several times before—erupt from Ksenia’s belly. They’re barely formed, like smoke trying to become solid, before dissipating into nothing.
“Whoa,” I whisper, turning to Romulus beside me. “What does that mean?”
“We don’t know,” he says quietly back, clearly not wanting to disturb Ksenia and Kharon, who’ve started walking toward the table again. His jaw is tight. “It didn’t happen in Hannah’s pregnancy. So it’s... worrying.”
I gulp, suddenly even happier that I got the birth control from Layden yesterday. After last night with Remus—yes, he pulled out, but still. I’m definitely not sure I’m ready for magical interdimensional babies.
And it’s looking like we could actually make this work between all of us after all. Remus might not see it yet, but talking with Romulus this morning gave me real hope. Tangible, possible hope.
I frown a little, confused about some of my feelings in that regard.
Because it didn’t feel wrong or weird to wake up like that in Romulus’s arms. It felt... natural. Right, even. In a way, I felt so much hope that, of course, this was how it should work. Of course the three of us could make it work together.
Romulus is so different from Remus, and I feel drawn to him differently. And if I’m being completely honest with myself—which is terrifying—I don’t only have strong feelings for Remus.
Not that I have the same kinds of feelings for Romulus that I do for Remus!
I feel a tight little knot of anxiety even having the thought. No, of course not!
But... is that just because I met Remus first?
The thought feels disloyal, and I’ve never felt so confused in my entire life.
Would it really be so bad, anyway, considering the situation we’re in? Romulus is right—they share one body. And considering how complex everything is, if I’m going to love one of them...
My stomach tightens as I even think the L word.
I can’t finish the terrifying thought, though, because Layden’s voice comes shouting down the stairs, panicked and urgent.
“Evac! We’ve got to evac! NOW!”
Abaddon immediately leaps to his feet, nearly overturning his chair. His golden eyes snap to the stairs just as Layden jumps down them two at a time, a huge military-style backpack and several other heavy duffel bags slung over his shoulders.
“What? Why?” Abaddon demands, his whole body going into warrior mode—shoulders back, wings flaring slightly.
“They’ve found us. They’re coming en masse. We’ve got to go,” Layden shouts, not even breaking stride as he heads for the door. “Now!”
“Who?” Kharon demands, all six of his hands moving to shield positions—two on Ksenia, two reaching for weapons that aren’t there, two braced for action.
“The government. Russian military,” Layden barely stops his motion to explain, clearly annoyed that he even has to waste these precious seconds. “The wards that kept the castle invisible broke somehow.”
“But they were set a thousand years ago and have never so much as—” Kharon starts, confusion and alarm warring on his face.
“Well, something happened!” Layden shouts, obviously out of patience. His blue eyes are wild. “Because we’re visible and on their radar, and they’re sending all their firepower at us! We have five minutes, if that. So get your asses to the ‘copter!”
My heart is suddenly pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
Ksenia just sat down, but she immediately grabs the table’s edge, readying to heft herself to her feet. Her face is set in grim determination. “I’ll get my guns. We will fight.”
But right as she pushes up, she bends forward with a sharp gasp, one hand flying to her belly as she doubles over.
And then a rush of water hits the stone floor with a splash that echoes through the hall.
Her water breaking would have been shocking enough.
Except that a second after the first splat of clear fluid comes a second rush—this time of blinding white-blue runes that pour from between her legs and hit the stone floor like liquid light.
The floor turns into a pearlescent white pool where the runes touch it.
Which Ksenia’s left foot then touches.
And starts disappearing into.
It’s as if the solid stone floor that was there only moments ago is now a deep, dimensional pool. She slips calf-deep into it before Kharon grasps her with all six of his arms and yanks her backward out, runes flaring from his hands to counteract whatever’s happening.
I’m frozen, staring at the—what? Multidimensional pool of magical amniotic fluid?
Suddenly I’m being lifted into Romulus’s arms like I weigh nothing as he sprints with me toward the door. My arms automatically wrap around his neck, clinging.
Kharon has done the same thing with his very pregnant—and I assume now in active labor—wife, cradling her carefully despite his speed.
Normally, I might have something to say about being carried around like a damsel in distress.
But considering the fact that I am officially way, way out of my comfort zone, and the entire might of the Russian military is about to descend on us—not to mention the whole woman-in-labor-with-a-magic-interdimensional-baby thing—
Yeah. I’m happy to be a passenger in Romulus’s strong arms at the moment.
I’m capable of a lot of things. Cinnamon rolls, for instance. Office work. I can make a mean spreadsheet. I survived seven years with a narcissistic asshole.
Battling an oncoming army?
Officially beyond my pay grade.
When we burst outside into the bright afternoon sunlight, I’m still clinging to Romulus’s neck like a terrified monkey, my legs wrapped around his waist.
Oh god, what if we’re all about to die?
Yes, these guys might be like, ancient gods or whatever, but missiles are missiles! Explosions are explosions!
I asked for adventure, but I don’t think I meant the scary, possibly-dying parts!
I squeeze my eyes shut against the wind, only opening them again when the gust whipping my hair around my face stops and I realize that Romulus is depositing me into one of the bench seats at the back of the huge military-style helicopter.
His hands are surprisingly gentle as he straps me in, checking the buckles twice.
I blink, stunned and disoriented, as I watch Kharon do the same with Ksenia across from me. Her face is twisted in pain as she holds onto her enormous belly, breathing in short, sharp gasps.
“Just give me a gun, and I’ll shoot the fuckers,” she yells after breathing through what must be a contraction, her Russian accent thickening with pain and fury.
Holy crap, who is this woman?
Hannah’s in the seat beside her, one arm clutching little Raven tight against her chest and the other reaching out to grasp Ksenia’s hand. “How about we focus on keeping this baby inside you ‘til we get to safety?”
Ksenia looks up, shooting actual daggers at Hannah with her pale eyes. “But I have to kill anyone who threatens my baby.”
Hannah just nods like this is a completely reasonable argument—and maybe in this family, it is. “What if the contractions disrupt your aim? We can’t afford friendly fire right now.”
Ksenia frowns as if she’s reluctantly forced to acknowledge this logic, only moments before her face screws up again in obvious agony from the next contraction hitting.
Kharon stays standing, hovering protectively near Ksenia while also looking out the windows at the top of the helicopter—scanning, alert, ready. The back ramp begins to close with a mechanical whir.
I look toward the front, where Layden is already at the controls, his hands flying over switches and buttons with practiced precision. Moments later, the whole helicopter shudders and lifts off the ground.
My stomach drops.
“I still don’t understand what changed,” Kharon says, his dark eyes flipping back and forth all around, on constant guard for incoming threats. “Hundreds and hundreds of years, those runes held. They never even flickered.”
“Come on, connect the dots,” Romulus spits from where he’s crouched beside Kharon, similarly on guard and peering out all the windows.
His wings are tucked tight against his back, coiled and ready.
“Days after Remus pulls his public stunt, they find us? He exposed us, and they were obviously able to trace him back to our location somehow.”
Kharon growls low in his throat, glancing toward the back of Romulus’s head where Remus sleeps.
My stomach flips with sudden, nauseating guilt.