“I considered that, but it only takes one person finding out. That would also mean I wouldn’t be able to help with the pregnancy without putting you in danger.”
And it would be cutting him off from his kid. He doesn’t mention that though. He just found out about expecting a child. I shouldn’t be so bothered how distant he is about it.
I blow out a breath. “What’s the plan? I can’t just stay here forever. I have a job.”
Kalos’s mouth thins. “You live here. Ben can teleport you wherever you need to go. I would request you not take on any more work until after the first year of infancy.”
Not work for over a year? “I can’t do that. I have a business.”
“As the mother, your safety and health are directly connected to our child. There is a bond between the two of you. If anything happens to you—” He stops and doesn’t continue, but I’m starting to follow his train of thought.
“I’m not running into danger—” Oh. “Despite how we met, my business isn’t being a thief. That was a one-off job.”
Kalos narrows his eyes. “You were quite skilled in that arena for it to be a one-off job.”
I shrug and pull the blanket tighter around me. The bone-deep chill is gone, but being wrapped up is still comforting. “I used to steal, and now I don’t.”
Kalos arches a brow. “Except from me.”
“I’m not going to do it again.”
We stare at each other before Kalos tilts his chin up. “What is your business then?”
“I restore artwork.”
He blinks. “Like paintings?”
“Yes, I’m very good.”
There’s a pause as he contemplates that before he arches a brow.
“And how did you get good at it?” he asks like he already knows, and I bite my lips, my cheeks heating.
“I don’t do forgeries anymore either.” I’m good at restoration but fantastic at forgeries.
Kalos nods easily. “Very well.”
There’s a knock at the door, and Kalos calls for the person to enter. Ben comes in. Now that I’m not freezing to death, I can take in details about the man that I hadn’t before. He’s clean-cut with dark hair and eyes. I don’t know what he is, which isn’t a unique thing for me with how clueless I can be about other paranormals, but he doesn’t feel like a witch or a shifter.
He holds a bag of food, and my mouth starts watering.
“You need to start preparing for your meeting with the Leonids unless you want me to reschedule with them,” Ben says.
“No, I don’t want to give them the impression that I’m too busy to handle them,” Kalos says.
Kalos takes the bag of food from Ben. “Give us a moment. When I leave for the meeting, I want you to take Katarina to her place so she can pack up what she’ll need for the next few days.
“You’re not bringing me to the meeting?” Ben asks.
“I need you to get her settled and keep her safe while I’m occupied.”
I raise a brow at that, expecting Kalos’s assistant to balk at being assigned as my watcher, but Ben nods solemnly. “Whatever you need.”
He leaves, and Kalos strolls toward me with the food. “I thought you may be hungry when you woke up.”
“It’s been hard to keep things down. It was trial and error to figure out that I can’t eat cold food.”
Kalos sits and nods, bringing out a Styrofoam container that smells like heaven from the bag and handing it to me. “That nausea shouldn’t be as bad now that you’ve received a surplus of heat.”
He gives me a fork, and I open the container. I don’t know what the food is, but it looks to be slow-cooked beef or pork. My mouth fills with drool, but the very scent of the food is spicy, and my shoulders slump.
“Uh, I don’t eat spicy food.”
Now Kalos grins. “You may want to try it before saying that.”
I hesitate, and Kalos takes the food from my hands. My body leans toward him to take the food back on instinct, even though I know I can’t handle the heat it’s going to dish out.
He takes my fork and digs into the dish before raising it toward me. “One bite.”
I blink at him and bend forward, gingerly accepting the bite as he feeds me.
Fucking heaven. “Oh my God!” I moan.
Kalos laughs, and I almost choke at the compelling sound of his delight, but manage not to.
“The babe will like most spices. It’s a chemical heat and provides you what you’ve been craving,” he says.
He seems to remember himself and hands the food back to me. I accept it greedily, taking another bite of bliss. The flavors aren’t what I’m familiar with, and there’s the slight burn of spice that had always been too much for me to eat, but it all blends together on my tongue. The joyous response of my body to the food is almost as good as the taste. It’s like every bite sparks happiness. I’m most of the way through the container before my craving releases me.
“Thank you,” I say. “It’s been challenging to anticipate the symptoms of this.”
Kalos looks away for a moment before returning his gaze to mine. “I didn’t mean to cause a child. I’m sorry you’ve suffered because of it.”
Embarrassment rages at what I have to admit. “It takes two to tango. I had an amulet to ward against pregnancy, but it wasn’t charged.”
Kalos shrugs as if I didn’t just admit to being the reason why I’m pregnant.
“The amulet shouldn’t have mattered. Dragons only procreate under specific circumstances and those weren’t met. As far as what I know, it should have been impossible.”
“Oh.” It’s not my fault. Not in the way I’d assumed it was.
This is a little more like fate. I’m not much of a believer in fate, but it’s hard to ignore the writing on the wall. I don’t want to call this bad luck…
“A miracle then,” I say.
“A miracle.” Kalos looks at my mouth, deep in thought, before shaking himself. “I need to prepare for my meeting. Ben will take you to pack what you need to be comfortable here.” He hesitates. “We can talk about more permanent changes tonight at dinner.”
And I’ve been dismissed. The abyss of my future gapes before me. Everything in my life is going to change. My baby’s life depends on my ability to be watchful and adapt to this situation.
9
KATARINA
THE DUFFEL BAG I have open on the bed is only halfway full of personal items. Ben already teleported a suitcase of clothing to the guest room where I’ll be staying. Apparently, he’s the rare type of paranormal that can make portals and use them.
But the items in this bag are supposed to be the kind that people won’t abandon in a fire. Instead of a collection of sentimental goods, it holds a sketchbook, some magic supplies for meditating, and toiletries.
The bag I’d packed when I ran away from foster care was similar minus the herbs and crystals. All these years later, and I still haven’t collected the life I thought I’d have. I’d left to find people like me. To fully immerse myself in the world of witches and magic that had been my birthright, even if I’d been abandoned. I didn’t find it.