Chapter 9 #2
Ash dropped his bloody sword as he hurriedly backed away from the body, turning to Callie. Careful of her bump, he pulled her into his embrace, ducking her head against his shoulder as he whispered soothingly, “It’s not. I would’ve known… it’s okay. That crystal can’t hurt us.”
But it wasn’t okay. Mitch was dead, only that wasn’t Mitch. But the fake Mitch confessed that the real Mitch was gone and—
“Breathe, my mate. You have to breathe. Look.” Steadying her with one hand, he stepped away from her, dropping to one knee. He wrapped the chain around his fist, yanking it from the dead man with a sharp tug. Lifting it up, he showed it to Callie. “It’s just a crystal. Fae magic.”
She took a few deep breaths, desperate to calm herself. When she thought she had, she focused on the shimmering pink crystal.
“Wait. That… that’s why I didn’t know? Why I couldn’t see through him and tell he was a fake? That crystal made him look like Mitch?”
Ash nodded. “If they imprinted it right, it would’ve given him your Mitch’s memories, too. He would’ve been able to fool everyone, even those closest to him.”
Like her. Like his family. His employers, too.
She’d never doubted for a moment that the man she lived with was the Mitch she’d known for years.
Apart from his weird fixation with fruit—which was readily explained now that she knew he was addicted to faerie fruit—he’d been exactly the same guy until the moment he forced himself on her like that.
Callie was glad that Ash killed the fake Mitch. He deserved it. But though the panic she felt when she first thought that her Mitch was dead wasn’t as uncontrollable as it was only a few moments ago, she had to ask.
She had to know.
“But if he was pretending to be Mitch to… to…” Callie gulped, unable to even say it. She tamped down the rising panic, doing her best to spit her question out. “If that’s not Mitch, then where is he? Where’s my old roommate, Ash?”
“It’s possible that—”
“No.” It’s possible that… a phrase like that was how the fae got around telling the truth.
In her state, she needed honesty, not platitudes.
“I don’t want to know what’s possible. You told me that she would do anything to stop me from having my baby.
You know her. You know what she would do. What happened to Mitch?”
Ash must’ve heard something in her tone that had him realizing that she was serious.
Taking her hand, giving her fingers a squeeze, he said flatly, “She would’ve had him killed so that her pet could take his place. To make the crystal to do what it had to, the mortal would’ve been sacrificed.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper as her chest felt like it was being squeezed. No. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sorry, my mate, but you met Melisandre. What do you think?”
Her fae had a very valid point.
Which meant that Mitch was very dead.
A sob rose up in her throat as she jerked her hand out of his hold.
She wasn’t sure if it was for Mitch, or for herself.
For the sudden way she had to learn that he was gone, that he was replaced by someone for Faerie, or how the fake Mitch had been lying in wait, his orders to get his hands on Callie’s baby no matter what he had to do.
For weeks, Ash impressed upon her how much danger she was in. Melisandre would stop at nothing to get at their child, and she thought she understood that.
Had she?
Staring down at the unfamiliar face, careful not to look any lower at the fatal wound in his chest, she had to admit that she might’ve downplayed the threat.
Bile took the place of the sob. She was shaking, her head spinning. The edge of her vision went dark as her legs went weak. Recognizing the signs, she backed up before turning, sprinting toward the bathroom.
Her fae had missed the early months. He hadn’t seen the way she suffered from morning sickness. When she bolted, he must have assumed the worse, immediately chasing after her.
For once, though, she was quicker.
Callie slammed the door in Ash’s face, throwing the lock a split second before she dropped to her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet with a sickening splash.
She threw up two more times until there was nothing left. Shaky from heaving, she braced her arms on the toilet seat. Her mouth tasted nasty, her eyes burned, but she stayed where she was, wincing when the knock started.
“Callie? Callie… tell me you’re okay.”
Ash.
She swallowed, wincing as the acrid taste of vomit hit the back of her throat. Waiting until she could speak without moaning, she said, “I’m not, but I will be.”
Probably wasn’t the right thing to say. Ash’s answer had a touch of panic that was strange and new as he said, “Let me in.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Then come back out here.” Ash paused for a moment, before saying, “Please.”
If she hadn’t just discovered that she’d been living with a stranger these last few months, hearing Ash say ‘please’ might’ve been Callie’s biggest shock of the afternoon.
“I will. Just… just give me a minute. Can I have a minute?”
Through the wood, she heard Ash’s sighed, followed by his musical voice murmur, “You can have everything you want.”
If only she could believe that.