CHAPTER 10

 

 

 

 

“Bloody hell.” Pike checked his phone for the umpteenth time and, frustrated with himself, slammed it back into his pocket. “I haven’t heard a single thing from the woman.”

“And you probably won’t, considering she knows what you are now. Which one is this?” Ezollo did his best to sound commiserating. Pike, however, saw the true intentions lying behind those slitted pupils. Curiosity. Pure and simple.

“The only one who matters.”

“Oh. Damn. You fucked up this time.”

“Yes, I know. I got too close.

“And you obviously had a lot of fun doing it.”

He tried to pry his eyelids open and catch his balance, orienting himself to the space and finding he couldn’t manage any of it. “Am I still in the bar drinking myself sick?”

“You betcha.” Ezollo whistled. “You really are in a bad place. Maybe you had more fun than I assumed. You wanna go easy on that brew.”

The daemon kept another tasteless remedy behind the bar for emergencies. No doubt this one had a bit of human soul added to give it an extra kick. Pike found he needed the boost. There was a curious pain below his ribs and the more he drank, the less it hurt.

“No. I need more.”

Ezollo’s favorite three words. “I’ll add them to your tab.” His lashes fluttered as he reached for the bottle, holding it in front of his face.

Pike squirmed closer and grabbed the entire thing.

“And I brought you a fresh mark. If you’re hungry.”

“Just because Lavinia found out about my other women doesn’t mean I’m starving. I had enough to eat to last me for the next month.”

Ezollo waited, the moment drawing out. “Do you want to talk about her?”

“No,” Pike answered with a morose chuckle. “I’m running on no sleep and half a bottle of whatever shite you mixed together. I’m not venturing into heart-spilling territory with you.”

With a shrug, Ezollo grabbed the bottle back from him and took a long, rich swig. “Right now, from where I’m standing, I’m the only one you’ve got. I don’t exactly see people lining up around the block to help make you feel better. But here I am. Now you’re going to sit here and talk to me, or I’ll have the hens over there come give you a talking to.”

“What do you want to know? I fucked Lavinia and she found out what I am. What I do. What I eat.” Pike grabbed the bottle back and held it aloft in a silent cheer. “All this right after I forced her down among the rat shifters unprepared.”

Ezollo’s frown took a sharp left turn into alarm. “Is she all right?”

“Like me, she’s surprisingly hard to kill.”

“You introduced her to the shifters and then took her home for sweet loving?”

“Pretty much,” Pike said, thinking back to that night a week ago. When Lavinia walked out of his life for good. The next day, when he’d slunk back to his Monday and Saturday bird with his tail between his legs—and sans the promised surprise—he was startled to find she wanted nothing to do with him. It went beyond his standing her up. Someone had spoken to her already. Same story with his Thursday gal. He ended up with two doors slammed in his face. The nearly broken nose wasn’t the worst part. He knew he deserved whatever they threw his way, and worse.

The worst part was the only person he wanted to speak to, his best friend in this world, wanted nothing to do with him, and it was all his fault.

“Do you think I’m going mental?” he asked, toying with the cork of the bottle. “For what I did?”

Ezollo blinked.

“Because at this point, I don’t know anymore. Was any of it worth it? Was getting close to her worth it? Maybe I should give up and slink off into the abyss.”

More blinking.

“I should let myself starve for what I did to her. She saw it, you know, before it happened. Told me so herself. The clearest goddamn vision she’s ever had and it was her in my rearview mirror. She foresaw me walking out on her. And I did it.”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” Ezollo said. Out came the rag with the same circular swishing of condensation around the bar top.

“Tell me I’m stupid.”

“You are, but you’ve also survived this long by getting yourself out of a scrape or two. Do you want me to send the harpies to find her?”

Pike sighed. “No. I’ll handle it myself.”

“Please tell me you’re going to admit how you feel.”

“If I do, she’ll probably slice me where I stand. I taught her too much.”

“Do you want my advice?” Ezollo asked.

“No.”

“Move. Get out of town and forget her.” He flashed his rows of sharp teeth. “I can help take care of your little broken birdie.”

“Like. Hell.”

“Aw, come on. She’s never going to trust you again. I know the type. Once they’re shattered, the pieces don’t come back together.”

Pike balled his hand into a fist. “Then you don’t know her.”

“What, like you’re going to make the effort to win her back?” Ezollo chuckled. “Do what you do best and run. There are other towns, other countries. Where you’ll have a cornucopia of females throwing themselves at you. You’ll never starve.”

“No, you’re right.”

“Live like a king. I know a great spot off the coast of Greece where you’ll be treated like a god.”

“And leave Lavinia to you?”

“Exactly.” Ezollo gave a short nod. “Leave her to me. Haven’t you done enough damage?”

If he’d had the energy, Pike would have laughed. Lavinia, hooking up with this gossipmonger. There was no chance. She’d break his nose if he got too close.

Indeed, he’d spent enough time with her to know what she was capable of doing. More than even she understood. There was a world of strength hidden in her petite frame.

Pike left the bar and went home, changing into a dark sweater and worn jeans. He brushed his hair into a semblance of order and kept it tamed with a palm full of gel. Then he downed half a bottle of aspirin to squash the headache blasting him. Whether a product of his guilt or whatever drink he’d managed to finish at Kraken Down, he wasn’t sure.

For a man who’d been alive for a little less than four centuries, he was sure good at making his life into a mountain of crap.

Bollocks.

Ezollo might have been a soulless demon with a penchant for gossip, but he was right. Pike had no friends except for Lavinia. She was the one who kept coming back, despite the many times he’d sent her away. She gave him warmth, affection, an ear to complain to and a smile that lit his darkest moments.

What did he have to offer her? Nothing.

It was hard facing the facts. He had nothing to offer anyone. Lavinia was good, and light. He was nothing but a louse, preying on a precious emotion. He did it because he had to. For the first time in his life, he hated himself.

What a thing to admit. His healthy ego had taken not only a beating, but also a slam in the dirt. He’d done nothing but cause grief and heartache to countless women. He hadn’t given it a thought until he hurt the one person who’d stood by his side. The one who saw beneath the arrogance, the booze. Everything.

What was it she’d said about love? Maybe he should try feeding on everlasting love instead.

It was impossible. His mentor, the vampire who’d made him what he was, had told him so.

Pike was walking toward the door when a tingling began in the back of his throat. Heat shot down his spine.

“What—”

His focus dimmed, hand falling listlessly from the doorknob. As a vampire, he didn’t have special powers beyond a keen sense of hearing and the ability to see in the dark. He certainly didn’t have visions. Those he left to the psychics. But as a moving picture as real as life flashed behind his closed eyes, it took everything he had inside him not to scream.

What he saw had his knees shaking and his stomach squirming. He saw himself. And Lavinia. Tangled together, with their legs wrapped around each other, soft music playing in the background. Her lips fell lovingly on his forehead and she smoothed a lock of hair away from his face.

His vision self reached for her. Pulled her to him, hugging gently and carefully.

Carefully?

Carefully because of the basketball-size swell of her belly.

Lavinia was pregnant.