said, holding my face in her hands.
“How?” I wheezed because my brain wasn’t completely online yet. I knew the mechanics of how people created children but we had always been careful. Kids weren’t in our current plan—not that we really had a plan.
“Sometime after you had your little chat with Gaia,” she said with a gentle smile. “It seems our precautions were for nothing. I’ve heard that most elves are currently pregnant. I guess Gaia’s trying to make up for lost time.”
Dear Mother Nature had gotten me. I’d gone to her months ago to get her help for the elves after a witch’s spell had made them infertile. I thought she’d just make them fertile again, not nullify all attempts at contraception. It was even more startling to find that a human and an elf had successfully bred, since there were very few instances of it in history.
I stared at the woman kneeling beside me. Synapses started firing again. She was carrying my baby. Our baby. Trixie was having our baby. Joy filled my chest, blotting out all prior feelings of despair. We could do this. She was having our baby.
“That’s wonderful,” I breathed. I grabbed one of the hands cupping my cheek and pressed a kiss into her palm.
Trixie sat back on her heels and stared at me in shock. “You’re not upset?”
“Upset? No. I’m stunned and a bit muddled still, but not upset. I’m thrilled actually,” I said with a laugh as I pulled her into my arms. “We can do this. We can move in together. Get a bigger place. Maybe something in the suburbs with a yard. We—”
“No!” Trixie sharply cried, pushing violently out of my arms. She stumbled as she got to her feet and moved to the other end of the room. “Don’t you understand? I have to leave because of the baby.”
“No, I don’t understand. You think you have to go to your people because the baby will be half elf? We can raise the baby together here just fine.”
“No, I have to go back because it isn’t safe to stay with you!”
The rush of pain that returned to my chest left me breathless for a second. This roller-coaster ride of joy and pain was making me nauseous. She was alternately giving and stealing away hope with every sentence she spoke.
“Of course it’s safe to stay with me,” I said, pushing to my feet as well.
Trixie said nothing, just pointed at the window where the goblins had climbed through only minutes earlier. My stomach twisted and I swallowed back the rise of bile.
“That was an isolated incident,” I said evenly, tearing my eyes from the gouges in the wood from the goblins’ claws. “I know the proper protection spells. I can keep anything you can think of out of our home. Name it and I can block it out.”
“The goblins are an isolated incident, but how many isolated incidents have there been since we’ve known each other? Vampires attacking and the damn Low Town mafia. The Svartálfar and even the Wild Hunt. And that’s all without mentioning the Towers! Even if you don’t consider the Towers, there will always be something.”
“No. I won’t get involved. I—”
“You can’t actually believe that,” she scoffed, shoving one hand through her long blonde hair. “It’s who you are, Gage. It’s the man I love. You help people who are hurting. They’re drawn to you because they sense that you can help them and you can’t say no. But the problem is that the danger follows you and it hits the people closest to you.”
“It won’t. I’ll stop. I’ll just be a tattoo artist and nothing more. No getting involved. I’ll protect you and the baby,” I countered in a rush, desperate to convince her that I could be strong and responsible. I could keep her safe.
“What about the Towers?”
I backpedaled, my brain desperately searching for an answer that would convince her that she was safe with me. But I didn’t have one for the Towers. I couldn’t escape the Towers, not so long as I was alive. They would always be a part of my life. “I can shield you from the Towers. I wouldn’t be the only warlock to have a child or spouse. I can hide you, protect you.”
“But there would still be a great risk. . . .”
“Of course there’s a risk. There are no guarantees!” I shouted, my temper finally snapping. She wasn’t giving anything. She wanted perfection and I couldn’t give her