I wince. “That would make it easier.”
The one sex education course I’d taken surfaces in my mind, and I frown. “There’s a chance it won’t stay, isn’t there? What with finding out so early. Humans usually have to wait weeks.”
Stella shrugs. “Miscarriages aren’t as likely for witches, but yes, if you want to wait to make sure before dealing with the dick, that makes sense.”
The relief is instant. You and I are a pretty sure thing, I think to the disruption in my middle. Now that I’ve identified the sensation, it’s not as jarring. It’s as if it’s happy that I know it’s there now.
I’m going to have a baby.
I wonder how long I can go without telling Kalos.
6
KATARINA
NOT VERY LONG.
It’s only been a week. I shiver in front of the imposing mansion door. The summer sun on the back of my jacket should be sweltering, but I hardly notice it.
I didn’t want to contact Kalos through Stella in case this went poorly. So that left showing up to the man’s house.
I don’t want to break in again, but I will if I have to. The security guard at the gate had refused to even call up to the big house, but he’d offered to take a message to deliver later. The type of thing I need to say shouldn’t be put in a message. I shrugged and thanked him for his time. It helps to be polite if he catches me later.
Getting on the grounds had been child’s play. You’d think an immortal would have better security. Maybe he doesn’t need it.
The only thief to make it into his house, he’d caught himself. Then fucked.
Good times.
I ring the bell, and the sound is melodic, pretty. Too pretty for a dragon’s lair, but he must like pretty things because in the light of day, the mansion is gorgeous. It doesn’t look like any one architecture style, but rather a mixture. A column here, an arch there, the organic flourishes of vines in the stonework. As if the designer took the best of each period and somehow baked it into a perfect cake instead of a garish collection.
I bite my lip. I don’t hear anyone coming to the door. I ring the bell again.
If no one answers, I’m going to have to break in. It will be a little more time-consuming since I’m assuming he patched the wards around the pane I’d removed last time. Honestly, I could get through the wards without the weak point, it’s just with how strong they are, it will be more uncomfortable.
I’m not leaving without speaking to Kalos. If it were just telling him about the pregnancy, I’d wait as many months as I could just to avoid how awkward this will be. To avoid the words he’s going to cast my way.
But I need help.
Finally there’s a sound on the other side of the door. The man who opens it is decently sized enough to be another security guard but wears a sleek suit.
He looks behind me as if expecting more. “How did you get past the gate?”
“I need to speak to Kalos,” I say.
His brow twitches. “It doesn’t work that way. You can’t just demand an audience with him. I’ll schedule you a meeting in the next couple of weeks—”
“That’s not going to work.” I swallow, my knees almost buckling from a wave of dizziness. “This is very important. Time sensitive.”
His eyes focus on me, worry creasing his brow. “Are you okay?”
Aw, this guy seems nice.
“Not really,” I admit. “Please, I just really need to speak with him. Tell him it’s the thief from last week. That should get his attention.”
His brows shoot up, and he reluctantly opens the door wider to let me in. I wince, but step inside. Sure enough, the interior of the house is cool. The air conditioning no doubt delightfully chilly for everyone else.
I pull the jacket tighter around me, the sweater I have layered underneath bunching, but it’s a useless gesture. The cold air invades anyway.
“I’ll wait while you get him. I won’t run off,” I say. He’s more likely to return to me as an icicle.
He must realize something to that effect because he shakes his head.
“Follow me,” he says. “If he’s displeased, he’ll just eat you.”
I huff a laugh but the shiver that travels through me is too violent to make it audible.
I follow behind him. If I thought the outside of the house was gorgeous, it’s nothing compared to the inside. Gold banisters on white veined marble, art nouveau mirrors heavy with filigree.
I’m so stunned by this short walk down the hallway that I don’t realize that we’ve reached a dark-wood carved door to what appears to be an office until the man stops me.
“Stay here.”
I nod, and he knocks on the heavy door before entering.
“Ben, do you have the numbers from Keller?” Kalos’s words muffle as the man who must be Ben closes the door behind him. I’m glad I no longer have an audience because I’m frozen to the spot.
Dear God, his voice. It’s as rumbly and deep as I remember. Maybe if I’d had more time and space it wouldn’t affect me as much as it does, but the memories that surface are too fresh. Him calling me little queen in hushed tones as he makes me beg, the warmth of his laugh when I’d surprise him, the snarling way he’d cut me down to size in the end.
I can’t do this.
I take a deep breath and squeeze the hand warmers that have gone cold in my jacket pockets. Those and the chill in my chest are a good reminder of why I’m here. I couldn’t even have a week of space because the troublemaker in my womb is already causing problems.
I have to do this. This isn’t for me. This is for us. The baby… and me. Because I don’t know if I’m going to survive otherwise.
The door whips open the next moment, and I tilt my head back to take in the fury on the too familiar, achingly beautiful face.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kalos hisses.
His anger is outsized to the situation in my opinion, and he doesn’t even know the half of it.
“I need to speak with you.” I look at Ben, who must be Kalos’s assistant. “Alone.”
“Anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of Ben.”
Ben’s face remains expressionless, but I have the sense he’s surprised.
I shrug. Telling two strangers this news is only a little more awkward than telling one.
“Are you going to invite me in?” I ask, more to give myself time to think of exactly how to say what I need to than being offended that he’s stopped me in the hall like a child listening at doors.
Will our kid listen at doors? I internally groan. In this whole getting attached business and my confidence that I can actually raise a child, I forgot one very important fact.
I was a terror as a kid. Always getting into places I shouldn’t have and knowing way more than I was supposed to. Is this karma?
Kalos narrows his eyes and looks like he wants to snap me in half, but he opens the door wider, and I enter the office.
There’s a heavy masculine energy to the room. All carved wood, bookcases, and dark walls.
“Well?” Kalos prompts.
I really can’t stall much longer. “I’m pregnant.”
“Congratulations.”
I’m thrown off for a moment at his quick and decisive tone.