Sam stood over the pile of freshly folded clothes in the laundry room, her hand on her belly and a smile on her face. She was going to be a mom. In nine months, give or take, because she had no idea how long she’d been pregnant, she would be washing pastel-colored Onesies and tiny socks no bigger than her ear. She would be up in the middle of the night breastfeeding, changing diapers, and suffering from the exhaustion that comes with being a new parent.
And she couldn’t wait.
At least her increased appetite made sense now, as well as all the weird foods she’d been craving, such as salmon and scrambled eggs, cold lobster and hash browns, bread and butter pickle and peanut butter sandwiches. With vampire young inside her, she just hoped she wouldn’t start craving blood like that girl in the movies about the sparkling vampires.
Sighing contentedly, she started the next load of laundry then shut off the light and made her way upstairs to check on Cordray’s kids. It was just after two in the morning, so she still had a few hours of quiet to wrap her mind around the news that she was pregnant before her house became a symphony of children looking for breakfast and preparing for school.
The orphans Cordray looked after had been through so much in the past few days—the fire that destroyed their home, losing everything they owned, being uprooted in the middle of the night and shuttled to a strange place to live with people they didn’t know.
All things considered, they had adjusted remarkably well. Sometimes children were more resilient than adults. They bounced back so quickly from tragedy. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t carry the psychological effects of the fire for years to come.
She peered into the room Aiden and Null shared. The toddler twins were inseparable, even in sleep. They were snuggled against each other in the center of the full-sized bed.
Somewhere inside Sam’s brain, a maternal valve had clicked on the moment Trace and Cordray had shown up with the children in tow, especially when she saw Aiden and Null, the youngest of the bunch. All the kids had been bleary-eyed and confused, and she had felt the need right away to care for them like they were her own. Now, she couldn’t shut off her motherly instincts.
She placed her hand over her belly. Soon enough, those instincts would come in handy with her own children.
Children. Plural.
Because she was going to have twins. She still couldn’t believe it.
She smiled and looked down at her stomach. “Be nice to each other in there,” she whispered. “And be nice to me, too. I’ve never had a baby.”
She opened the bedroom door wider and quietly approached the bed. Aiden had a choke hold on her Pooh Bear, which Sam had tossed in the washing machine to clean off all the soot from the fire. Now Pooh was back to his spritely canary yellow, and his vest was once again bright red.
Sam smiled at Aiden’s and Null’s cherubic faces. They looked like tiny Cupids, with plump, rosy cheeks and golden ringlets swirling over their foreheads.
Null had fallen asleep sucking his thumb, which Cordray said he did when he was stressed. Sam gently pulled his thumb out of his mouth and brushed her palm over his blond curls. Poor little guy. He put on a resilient front during the day, but he couldn’t hide how vulnerable he felt when he slept.
She straightened and affectionately gazed down at them. They were so small, still shaky on their feet when they tried to run, with tiny hands that felt so fragile folded inside hers.
With their fair coloring and blond hair, they easily could have been her own kids, but she doubted she and Micah would ever produce children that looked like her. Micah dominated in every facet of life. Why would producing a child be any different? No doubt their kids would come out with hair the color of coal and eyes shaded midnight blue.
And you know what? That was fine with her. As long as they had ten fingers, ten toes, and were healthy, she would take them however they came, little bitty vampire fangs and all. Although, she understood the fangs came later, as they went through their transition from juvenile to adult.
Talk about going through puberty.
She pressed her palm to her belly again, imagining how it would feel as they grew inside her. Like their father, would they rob her of rest as they grew from pea-sized clumps of cells to fully formed fetuses? Not that she was complaining about her life with Micah. She loved how he took care of her without being too overbearing—most of the time. And she loved how he mentally challenged her, and how they fit together so perfectly in every way.
She loved him, period. In fact, she wasn’t sure love was a strong enough word for how she felt about Micah, but what was stronger than love? Adoration? Reverence? Worship? She giggled to herself. She could definitely say that her feelings didn’t fall in line with worship. Micah might have enjoyed that, but saying she worshipped him took her feelings a bit too far. No woman should ever worship a man—male, whatever. In fact, to hear Micah talk, it was the male who worshipped the female in this supernatural world of vampires and shapeshifters.
This life was certainly beyond anything she had ever seen for herself as a child, but now that she was living it, she couldn’t imagine any other future.
She pressed light kisses to Aiden’s and Null’s chubby cheeks then quietly left the room.
As she approached the room Panya and Faith shared, she heard a muffled sniffle.
She eased the door open and peered inside. Faith was sound asleep, but Panya was sitting up in bed, hugging her knees to her chest as she gently rocked forward and back. She raised her face, and Sam saw tears glistening on her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” Sam whispered, hurrying to her side. “Are you okay?”
Panya brushed her fingers over her face, wiping away her tears as she shook her head. “I had a bad dream. Fire was everywhere.” She held her arms straight out in front of her, looking down at them as if they were covered in flames. “It was all over me, on my arms, melting my clothes to my skin . . .” She started crying again, and Faith stirred and rolled over.
Now that she was closer, Sam could see that Panya was drenched with sweat. Her pajamas clung to her body, and perspiration slicked her neck and forehead. Her long lashes were clumped with tears.
“Come on, let’s go downstairs.” Sam gestured toward the door. “I’ll get you a change of clothes, and we can watch a movie. I’ll make you a cup of cocoa. Do you like marshmallows?” If she talked about something else, maybe Panya would stop thinking about her nightmare.
Panya hesitated then nodded.
“Okay then. It’s a date.” She held out her hand, and Panya slipped hers inside it.
A moment later, Sam quietly shut the door and led Panya down the stairs to the kitchen.
The TV was on in the living room, with the sound turned low. A Harrison Ford movie was just coming on. You couldn’t go wrong with Harrison Ford.
Sam pointed to the plateful of remaining chocolate chip cookies she and Panya had baked that afternoon. “Have a cookie. I’ll be right back with dry clothes.”
In the laundry room, Sam rummaged through the piles of folded clothes Brenna, Mya, she, and Cordray had pulled together to replace those lost in the fire. Sam had spent the better part of the afternoon and evening washing them. Mya put off sleep for over twenty-four hours, lending a hand with the washing and folding before finally collapsing in an exhausted heap around nine o’clock, leaving Sam to continue the fight on her own until Micah called. And there was still a lot of washing to do before it was finished.
She found a pair of sweats and an oversized T-shirt and hustled back to the kitchen.
Panya was sitting at the counter picking bites of cookie off with her fingers.
Sam set the folded clothes on the counter. “You can change in the bathroom while I start the cocoa.”
Panya set the uneaten half of her cookie on a napkin and slid off the barstool as she scooped the clothes into her arms. Then she quietly slinked away in the direction of the bathroom as if she wanted to remain as invisible as possible.
What was Panya’s story? Where had she come from? And how had she found her way to Cordray’s shelter?
She reminded Sam of a fawn who’d been abandoned by her mother, or maybe a small dog who’d been left behind by its owner when the family moved. She just seemed so lost and unsure, as if she expected to be kicked out of the nest again and again and would never find her place in the world.
Sam knew how it felt to be lost. After leaving her ex, she’d been scared and uncertain, too. Not just about where to go and how to survive while she was on the run, but about everything. For months, she’d been suspicious of everyone she met, mistrustful even of a good Samaritan politely holding the door open for her. There was always this abnormal fear that the person offering her a smile or a helping hand would chloroform her the moment she turned her back, load her in the trunk of a car, and then whisk her back to Steve.
To be honest, she still wasn’t over her fear. Micah had removed all memory of her from Steve’s mind when he’d tracked her down in January, but she still couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder when she was out in public. Her heart still hitched in fear when she saw a black Mercedes, even if it wasn’t the exact model Steve used to drive. The Mercedes logo alone was enough to dump adrenaline into her system.
In time, she was sure to move past her fear, just as Panya would get past hers. But the fact they both seemed to be victims in one way or another created a bond between them. Sam would do whatever she could to help Panya find herself, and maybe in the process, she could get one step closer to eradicating her own demons.
A couple of minutes later, Panya came out of the bathroom holding her sweat-soaked pajamas as Sam was putting the milk back in the fridge. “Where do you want me to put these?”
Sam was tempted to take them herself, but she wanted Panya to feel like this was her home, too, rather than a temporary stop, so she pointed down the back hall extending off the kitchen. “The laundry room is down that way. You can toss them in the hamper in there, and I’ll add them to the next load I put in.”
Panya pattered off while Sam spooned cocoa mix into two mugs.
When Panya returned to the kitchen, she sat back down and began nibbling on her cookie again.
“So, how old are you?” Sam said. She and Panya had baked cookies and brownies all afternoon, but she hadn’t thought to ask her age.
Panya stared at her cookie. “Sixteen.”
“Ah, sweet sixteen.” Sam stirred the milk so it didn’t scald. “That’s a great age.”
Panya shrugged one shoulder as she popped a bite of cookie in her mouth. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Aren’t you excited about being sixteen?” Sam pulled a bag of mini marshmallows from the cupboard. “I know I was ecstatic when I turned sixteen.”
Another one-shouldered shrug. “It’s all right.”
Sam tore open the bag, plunged her hand in to nab a handful of puffy sweetness, and extended the bag toward Panya. Her eyes twinkled briefly as she perked up. After considering the bag of marshmallows for a moment, she gingerly reached her hand into the bag and pulled out a few.
“You can take more if you want,” Sam said.
“Are you sure?”
Sam shook the bag encouragingly. “Absolutely.”
Panya smiled weakly and grabbed a small handful then popped a couple in her mouth as Sam set the bag on the counter and checked the milk.
“Cordray doesn’t like us to eat from the bag like this,” Panya said.
“Well, I don’t mind, and since you’re in my house, we’ll go by my rules. Cordray doesn’t have to know. How’s that sound?”
“Okay.” Panya grinned and grabbed a few more marshmallows from the bag. “So, are you a full-blooded vampire, or are you a mixed-blood like Cordray and Trace?” Her eyes twinkled when she said Trace’s name.
Cordray had previously told Sam that the older kids knew who and what they were, but that the younger ones—Faith, Null, and Aiden—hadn’t gone through the talk, yet. Humans had the birds-and-the-bees talk, vampires had the you’re-going-to-change-into-a-creature-of-the-night talk. Humans definitely came out on the easier end of that comparison.
“Neither.” Sam dipped the tip of her finger into the milk. It was warm, but not quite hot enough for cocoa. “I’m what vampires call a davala.”
“What’s that?” Panya grabbed another cookie from the platter.
Sam turned and leaned against the counter, trying to recall how Micah had described what a davala was. “The way I understand it, a davala is a female who was once human, but a male vampire mated her and used his venom to make her immortal.”
Panya’s eyes brightened. “You were once a human?” Her awed expression amused Sam.
“Up until January of this year. That’s when Micah and I met, and he mated me.”
After the nightmare Panya had just had, Sam didn’t think now was the right time to explain that she’d almost been killed by Apostle, which was what forced Micah to change her in the first place. And Panya certainly didn’t need to know how painful the ordeal had been.
“Wow! That was, like, only a few months ago.”
“I guess you could say I’m still kind of like a newborn when it comes to all this vampire stuff.”
“That is so cool.” Panya seemed genuinely impressed that she was in the presence of someone who had once been human.
Sam checked the milk again. It was perfect. “You know, before Micah, I didn’t even know vampires existed.” She slowly poured the steaming milk into their mugs, stirring so the cocoa mix wouldn’t clump. “When did you find out you were a vampire?”
Panya stuffed her hand into the marshmallow bag as she frowned and wrinkled her nose. “Cordray told me about five years ago.”
“Hey, what’s with the sour face?” She set one of the mugs in front of Panya and tossed in a bunch of marshmallows, which floated on top and began melting into a gooey layer. “Aren’t you happy about being a vampire?” She added marshmallows to her own mug.
“It’s gross,” Panya said, her face screwing into a Mr. Yuk expression. “You have to suck people’s blood. Just . . . ew! That’s so nasty.”
“Oh, I doubt you’ll think that way once you’re older.” She knew from what Micah had told her that vampires underwent a major transformation into adulthood during their late teens and early twenties. In a few years, Panya’s body would begin changing. She would gradually become intolerant of the sun, start craving blood, develop her abilities to dematerialize, read minds, and strip memories from humans she fed from. She wouldn’t be able to stop the change from happening any more than a teenaged human girl could stop her period.
“I don’t want to be a vampire.” Panya pouted into her mug of cocoa.
Sam rounded the counter and rested her arm around Panya’s shoulders. “Well, how about we have another cookie”—she snatched a pair of cookies from the plate—“drink cocoa, watch a movie, and not think about vampires or anything else for the rest of night, hmm? What do you say to that?”
Panya’s mouth twisted into a meager smile. Then she looked over Sam’s shoulder toward the living room. “Can we watch Godzilla?” Her eyebrows lifted hopefully.
Sam pulled back and narrowed her eyes on the teenager. “Old school or new?”
“The one with Aaron Taylor-Johnson.” She smiled dreamily. “He’s so hot.”
And there was the typical teenager Sam had been hoping to find. One who talked about boys, painted her fingernails funky colors, and experimented with too much makeup and hair products.
“Don’t you think he’s hot?” Panya said, grabbing one of the cookies from Sam’s hand and following her into the living room.
“Absolutely. Did you see him in Savages? He was even better looking in that movie. His hair was longer, and he was just so yummy.” Good thing Micah wasn’t around. His ego would never entertain the notion that she could be completely in love with him but still find another man attractive.
“I haven’t seen that one.” Panya dropped onto the couch and tucked her legs underneath her.
Sam knelt in front of their collection of Blu-rays, which were organized alphabetically by movie title, and snagged the one for Godzilla. “Well then, that gives us something to watch another night then, doesn’t it?”
Panya smiled. “We’ll save it for my next nightmare. At least that way I’ll have something to look forward to.”
Sam laughed. “No more nightmares.” She popped the Blu-ray in and started it up. “We can do a movie night without all that drama.” She joined Panya and settled in beside her at the other end of the couch as the movie started playing. “You know, you’re going to make some lucky male very happy watching movies like this.”
Her brown eyes brightened. “A male like Trace?”
“Ummm . . .” Apparently there was more to that previous twinkle in Panya’s eye than Sam had originally thought.
“Oh, I know he’s with Cordray,” Panya continued, “but he’s hot. If I could find a guy like that, I could die a happy girl.”
“If you find a guy like that, you’ll be happy you can’t die.”
Panya’s eyebrows scrunched over her nose. “I, uh . . .”
“You never thought of being a vampire that way, did you? Being immortal?”
Panya’s face shaded pink as she looked down. “No, I guess not.”
“So maybe being a vampire isn’t such a bad thing, huh? I mean, I’ve only been living inside this world a few months, and I’ve already seen that males of the vampire persuasion are some of the sexiest things on the planet. Wouldn’t it be nice to spend eternity with a guy like that? Especially knowing his body chose yours over all others? That’s pretty powerful, don’t you think?”
Panya offered her a weak smile and took a bite of cookie. “Knowing my luck, I’ll never find a guy like that. Who would want me?”
Sam gazed compassionately at the plain girl sitting across from her. Panya wasn’t outlandishly pretty. Her hair was brown, her eyes were brown, she had pale skin, and her chest was more or less flat. She was what Sam would have called a late bloomer by human standards. The scraggly grey duckling who would one day grow into a beautiful swan.
Just like Sam had been. At sixteen, Sam had looked more like a boy than a girl, but two years later, her contours had molded into those of a young woman who became the top earner at Suzy Q’s, where she danced nights and weekends before joining the Army when she was nineteen.
She folded her legs underneath her and reached across the couch to brush her fingers over Panya’s hair, tucking it behind her ear. “A lot can happen between now and the end of your transition, Panya. Your body will change. It will fill out, and boys will start looking at you differently.” She dipped her head to the side and squeezed Panya’s hand. “And you’ll start looking at boys differently, too. They’ll still be hot, but your idea of what’s hot and what’s not will change. You’ll also start considering what kind of father a male will be. What kind of mate he will make.” She’d almost said husband, but changed it at the last second to the vampire term, mate. “And then there’s that.”
“What?”
“The whole mating thing. Vampires take mates. They don’t get married like humans do. The way I understand it, mating is stronger, and it’s dictated by the male. It won’t matter what you look like. Once your mate finds you, he’ll mate you, and the match will be perfection. The way it’s been described to me, there’s nothing more magical or more powerful than when a male vampire finds his mate and forms a bond with her. I have a feeling that when your mate finds you, you’ll wonder what you ever saw in Trace.”
Panya regarded her for a moment. “But what if nobody mates me? I mean, what if I’m this freak of nature who never finds my mate?”
Sam squeezed her hand. “You can’t think that way. You just have to know he’s out there, somewhere, and he’s waiting to find you, too, when the time is right. Eventually, your paths will cross, and your life will be forever changed for the better.”
Panya smiled tightly but didn’t appear convinced.
“Come on”—Sam pointed to the TV—“let’s watch the movie. You’ve got plenty of time before you have to worry about all that grown-up stuff.”
Sam felt for Panya. She really did. It was hard being a kid these days, let alone a vampire kid. Panya didn’t just have to deal with all the normal teenage angst all kids went through, but all the baggage that came with being a vampire, too. Sam could only imagine the identity crisis young vampires went through, but from what she could tell, they all adjusted eventually.
All the vampires she’d met thus far appeared comfortable with who and what they were. Even Trace. The fact that he was a vampire never seemed to be the source of Trace’s problems. And now that he had mated Cordray, it was like he was a brand-new person. That much was already clear, and they’d only been officially mated a few days.
She and Panya watched the movie and sipped their cocoa in silence. After thirty minutes, Panya’s eyes grew heavy. Another ten minutes later, she’d fallen asleep.
Sam carefully eased herself off the couch so as not to wake her, grabbed a throw blanket from one of the drawers under the large, square coffee table, and pulled it up over Panya’s body. Then she quietly grabbed their empty mugs and returned to the kitchen.
She still had at least a couple of hours before she could expect Micah to come home, and there was still a ton of laundry to wash. She might as well get to it.