BLAISE
I have to take time off from shifting for the better part of the year.
Nine months, to be exact.
We’re not actually convinced it would hurt the baby, but Nox has entire chalkboards full of theories on why it might, so I try not to stress him out too much.
That means no vampire hearing to spy on our neighbors. It also means I still have to suffer the back pain as the baby kicks at my spine.
Worth it, though.
When I first realized I was missing my cycle, I wondered if it was just a byproduct of my not-quite-human, human form.
But no.
It pretty much meant what it tends to mean.
The vomiting had confirmed as much.
Telling Nox had been the fun part. He’d spent an entire hour in silence, looking stunned.
Then he’d retreated to his chalkboards and notes, talking to himself as he tried to figure out the science and or magic behind exactly how a vampire had managed to impregnate a not-quite-human female.
I offered to help him reenact the exact method I suspected was to blame, but he was dazed enough that he didn’t catch on to my not-so-subtle methods of seduction.
Eventually, he decided that it was, in fact, possible, and though vampirism is considered a sort of undead curse, everything about him works properly, other than the going out in the sun part.
After that was settled, he took me up on my previous offer.
I watch him now, my hand absentmindedly caressing my belly as he scribbles furiously in a notebook by the light of a waning candle.
If I know my husband, it’s either got something to do with our child, or tracking down his sister’s body.
He hasn’t quite come to terms with the fact that Zora seems happy falling in love repeatedly with a killer.
“Figured out yet how to keep our child from being a murderer before it’s developmentally appropriate?” I tease, rocking back and forth in the chair Nox’s parents made for me the week after we told them they’d be having a grandchild.
“I’ve tracked down a few vampire covens in the mountains,” he says, pressing the pen to his temple as he scribbles something else. “So far, I’ve failed to make contact, but I’m thinking if I show up and prove I’m one of them, they won’t turn me away.”
I frown, disliking the sound of this. “Yes, and I’m sure none of them will covet the paldihv that allows you to move about freely in the sun.”
Nox looks up at me, as if surprised at himself for not considering this earlier. Then he shrugs. “If it’s a risk we need to take to get answers…”
It takes great effort, but I haul myself out of the rocking chair. Eventually. Though my poor swollen ankles don’t seem to like the vertical position too much.
I practically have to waddle over to my husband, who looks as if he’s about to pull the skin from his temples with how hard he’s stretching them.
“What if…What if we just play it by ear?” I ask.
Nox swivels to face me, like I’ve just recommended we feed our baby opossum blood in place of breastmilk.
“You’re not worried?” he asks.
“Oh, I’m terrified of our little monster baby. But what you seem to be forgetting is that the two of us are monsters too. I’m sure whatever this child throws at us, we’ll still be bigger than them for quite a few years.”
“What if the baby can’t go out in the sun?”
“Our village gets three hours of light during the peak summer months. I think it will be okay.”
Nox slumps back in his chair, leaning his head back. “None of the other parents are going to let anyone near our kid.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?”
He shrugs. “I just don’t want our child to grow up…” He swallows. “Alone.” Then he gives me a rather serious look with those pale blue eyes of his. “Not having friends as a child is a recipe for psychopathy, you know. That, combined with a thirst for blood…”
“Nox.”
“Yeah?”
“This child won’t have the childhoods we had.”
Nox swallows, looking up at me with those beautiful eyes of his. “We can’t know that for sure.”
“No, but probability-wise, being kidnapped by an evil queen seems unlikely, now doesn’t it?”
Nox shrugs, conceding with a nod.
“And,” I add, “as long as you don’t marry a money-grubbing wench to replace me when I die, then I don’t think our child will have my childhood either.”
