Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“She’s dead?” Evie blocked Willem as he stormed through the drafty one-story country house on the outskirts of Kalisz. She realized he wasn’t angry that the mother of his illegitimate child, his one-time lover, died in childbirth. He was pissed Evie had found out and was here, in his lover’s home.
He threw his hand above Evie’s head to slam against the wall and cage her in with his huge body. “You should not be here.” He punched the opposite fist into the wall near her ear, shattering plaster. “This is my business, not yours.”
She flinched, expecting the next blow to hit her.
“You disobeyed. You were not to leave the house, not in your state.” He put a less than gentle hand on her rounded belly. His brown eyes narrowed, but his pupils remained dilated. His eyes were red rimmed from whatever kicked-up opioid he’d just injected himself with.
“You dragged Roman into this.” She squinted hatred at him, not that he’d pick up on it in his drugged-out state. He probably wouldn’t hurt the child in her belly. He might, however, break something else on her body—like he’d done before.
I’m here to make sure my ten-year-old stays safe. Out loud she said, “He’s the one who shouldn’t be here.”
He fisted his right hand. She put her arms over her rounded belly in case he lost control during the strike. She didn’t break their standoff. As usual, he glared as if he couldn’t see her. As if he she meant nothing to him.
Roman grabbed his moving fist and stopped it from connecting.
Willem spun and nailed Roman in the nose. “Learn your priorities.” Willem pushed her away from him so hard she ricocheted off the wall. “Have Efrem take you both home.”
Roman caught her before she fell and whispered, “Get out of here before he hurts you again.”
Efrem hovered behind Roman, perfect in every aspect of his formal dress and styled blond hair.
He skewered Willem with a glare full of loathing.
Efrem had been with her well before she was forced to mate Willem.
She’d found him on the streets of London as a discarded adolescent when she’d been about fifty.
Her mother hated that she’d brought in another mouth to feed, but Efrem had proved useful.
He could do anything from laundering impossible stains to killing a threatening human to acquiring the forbidden magical items her mother desired.
Through it all, he remained loyal to Evie.
He’d encouraged her to take the kids and leave last year before she became pregnant again.
Willem had despised him at first, but Efrem had become indispensable to him as a procurer to enable his addictions.
She signaled to Efrem to stay out of harm’s way. He mouthed: No.
She scowled back at him.
“What are you going to do about the newborn?” she asked Willem. The silent—but living—child lay naked and untended next to his dead mother. How scared and cold he must be.
“I’ll do what needs to be done,” Willem snarled.
A chill slid across her shoulders. “No.”
She gave Willem a wide berth as she marched around him and into the bedroom. The infant lay in the blood of his mother. He attempted to open his eyes, but screwed them shut as if the light was too much. With one of the least-bloodied linens, she wiped him down and wrapped him.
The baby stared at her, but didn’t make a sound. He fisted the fabric of her dress. Although a simple reflex at this young age, the act melted her. I’ll protect you as my own.
“Give the thing to me,” Willem ordered. He wiggled his fingers and glared down his nose at the child.
“I will raise him as my son.” She rolled the baby tight to her chest.
“No. Give him to me. I’ll destroy it.”
One of the lycan domestics ran into the room. He bowed over and over. “Many pardons. We must secure the house. There are werewolf hunters are upon us.”
Willem reached toward her to take the child. She whirled away from his grip, but he caught her by her arm. “We’ll give it to the hunters.”
“This is a child with a soul. If you want to teach Roman priorities, show him there’s nothing more important than family. Nothing.” She met Roman’s gaze beyond Willem.
Willem’s grip on her arm tightened to the point she feared he’d snap the bone. He dragged her to the front door. “That’s no son of mine.”
The domestic behind them warned over and over of the hunters outside.
“Let her go.” Roman reached to free her of Willem’s grip. “You’re hurting her.”
Willem elbowed him in the face. “This isn’t your concern.”
Efrem moved forward. He looked intent on killing Willem. With the drugs pumping through Willem’s system, Efrem probably couldn’t stop him. She ordered Efrem, “Protect Roman. Please.”
Efrem pulled Roman into him. He whispered something to Roman that made him settle.
At the door, Willem pulled her so close he rained spittle in her face when he hissed, “Throw the child outside or I’ll toss you both.”
“You will not hurt this child.”
“You’re a pain in the ass. You’ll do as I command.” He shook her so hard her teeth rattled. “I run this household.” His fingers dug into her arm, bruising.
“When you’re in town and not high, perhaps,” she muttered.
“What the…” He shook her. “I own you. You’ll do what I decide. I’m the one who has to be out there saving our kind from things that would kill us.”
“Not from werewolf hunters. You’re out there glorying it up fighting low-level witches and who knows what else that’s easy to kill. You do it because you get paid and the gratitude helps you seduce females. It’s not this infant’s fault you slept with his mother. He’s a member of my family now.”
“No. He’s not. I am this family.” He leaned close to her face. “Choose to be a part of this family and dispose of the child or I’ll kick you both out.”
“May you rot in hell.” She pulled the baby tight to her chest.
“Father, no!” Roman slipped free of Efrem. he punched at Willem’s arms to free her. Willem elbowed him hard enough to pitch him into the next room.
“No!” Efrem yelled and charged.
Willem, well trained after years of fighting magical creatures, caught Efrem in the face with his free fist so hard that it sent him crashing across the room. He lay still.
Don’t be dead. Please, get up.
Efrem didn’t stir.
“Efrem!” She thrashed to get free. A kick at Willem’s leg didn’t budge his grip on her.
Willem yanked the door open and threw her. Down the steps she fell into the snow-covered garden path. The landing was hard, but she’d protected the newborn. Her own baby kicked hard in complaint.
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, lit by a waning moon, she counted the torches held by approaching humans. At least twenty with various weapons chanted variations of “Death to the werewolf.”
The door above her didn’t reopen. The clunk of the bolt sliding into place jolted her upright. Roman screamed for her on the other side in a desperate tone that twisted her chest in pain.
Willem wanted her to cave. He longed for her to cast herself on his mercy and scream for help. The locks of the house’s inner metal shutters clicked on multiple windows as the domestics secured the lower floor from attack.
The baby seemed to see her with his pale-blue eyes for a moment before slamming them shut again.
A large falcon-like bird sat on a nearby tree. No time to evaluate its familiarity.
Men rushed at her, screaming.
One-handed, she slashed with the small dagger she always kept on her. Someone sliced the arm she used to hold the baby. She tucked the baby tighter into her body. Another stabbed her left shoulder.
Maybe she could mesmerize them with her voice. That hadn’t worked in a long time…not since before she got mated. Putting as much suggestion into her voice as possible she said, “Leave me alone.”
Three lunged at once as if they hadn’t even heard her. The skill still didn’t work for whatever reason. She’d begun to wonder if Willem had placed a spell to bind her abilities when they mated.
Either she would die, or all these humans would. Dropping her glamour and transforming into her feral form would make her stronger. But it was forbidden to turn in front of humans.
Turn or die.
She morphed to her feral form, which was more muscular, with sharp claws and teeth. The bones of her corset stretched and dug into her ribs. With super speed she took down two of the humans. One stabbed her back.
I could use a bigger blade.
“Use this.”
She dropped her dagger to catch the broadsword the mage she’d rescued long ago tossed at her.
“Where did you come from?” she called out.
He motioned for her to fight.
How she wished to stop time so she could stare at Dom.
He stood dressed in black with a variety of weapons attached to his body.
There was a new scar across his upper lip.
She hadn’t seen him since they sat on the bench together in Paris, a moment she resented.
He could’ve encouraged her to change her fate by not mating Willem.
“Are you going to help me?”
“This is your fight. Not mine.” He crossed his muscular arms.
“Still an asshole.” Irritation bristled up her spine. The heavy sword required two hands to properly balance. Impossible to do while holding a baby. She took on the two humans coming at her while swinging with one hand but called out, “Stop staring like a creep and help.”
“I’m sinister or frightening. Perhaps I’m disturbing, but I am not creepy.” His offended tone came to her, crisp and clear in his accented voice despite the chaos around them. He made no move to assist her.
“Be useful.” She shoved the baby into his arms. With two hands, she could wield the broad blade better.
Not well, however, since she hadn’t swung something like this in thirty years.
A human aimed a rifle at her. In a blur of screams, mostly from her, she annihilated the almost-shooter. She whirled, ready for a new attack.
“On your other side,” Dom said in a bored voice. “Poor form. You wounded him and got nicked in the arm. Move faster.” When she swung and missed, he yelled, “Stop toying with him. Kill him.”