It’s only right that a family composed of witches and vampires has a name that reflects that.”
I was touched by his thoughtfulness. Matthew could be such a patriarchal, overprotective creature, but he had not forgotten my family’s traditions.
“Why, Matthew de Clermont,” Marcus said with a slow smile. “That’s downright progressive for an old fossil like you.”
“Hmph.” Matthew sipped at his wine.
Marcus’s phone buzzed, and he looked at his display. “Hamish is here. I’ll go down and let him in.”
Muted conversation floated up the stairs. Matthew rose. “Stay with Diana, Phoebe.”
Phoebe and I exchanged worried looks.
“It will be so much more convenient when I’m a vampire, too,” she said, trying in vain to hear what was being said downstairs. “At least then we’ll know what’s going on.”
“Then they’ll just take a walk,” I said. “I need to devise a spell—one that will magnify the sound waves. Something using air and a bit of water, perhaps.”
“Shh.” Phoebe tilted her head and made an impatient sound. “Now they’ve lowered their voices.
How maddening.”
When Matthew and Marcus reappeared with Hamish in tow, their faces told me that something was seriously wrong.
“There’s been another message from Benjamin.” Matthew crouched before me, his eyes level with mine. “I don’t want to keep this from you, Diana, but you must stay calm.”
“Just tell me,” I said, my heart in my throat.
“The witch that Benjamin captured is dead. Her child died with her.” Matthew’s eyes searched mine, which filled with tears. And not only for the young witch but for myself, and my own failure. If I hadn’t hesitated, Benjamin’s witch would still be alive.
“Why can’t we have the time we need to sort things out and deal with this huge mess we seem to have made? And why do people have to keep dying while we do it?” I cried.
“There was no way to prevent this,” Matthew said, stroking my hair away from my forehead. “Not this time.”
“What about next time?” I demanded.
The men were grim and silent.
“Oh. Of course.” I drew in a sharp lungful of air, and my fingers tingled. Corra burst out from my ribs with an agitated squawk and launched herself upward to perch on the chandelier. “You’ll stop him.
Because next time he’s coming for me.”
I felt a pop, a trickle of liquid.
Matthew looked down to my rounded belly in shock. The babies were on their way.
31
“Don’t you dare tell me not to push.” I was red-faced and sweating, and all I wanted was to get these babies out of me as quickly as possible.
“Do. Not. Push,” Marthe repeated. She and Sarah had me walking around in an effort to ease the aching in my back and legs. The contractions were still around five minutes apart, but the pain was becoming excruciating, radiating from my spine around to my belly.
“I want to lie down.” After weeks of resisting bed rest, now I just wanted to crawl back into the bed, with its rubber-covered mattress and sterilized sheets. The irony was not lost on me, nor on anyone else in the room.
“You’re not lying down,” Sarah said.
“Oh, God. Here comes another one.” I stopped in my tracks and gripped their hands. The contraction lasted a long time. I had just straightened up and started breathing normally when another one hit. “I want Matthew!”
“I’m right here,” Matthew said, taking Marthe’s place. He nodded to Sarah. “That was fast.”
“The book said the contractions are supposed to get gradually closer together.” I sounded like a peevish schoolmarm.
“Babies don’t read books, honey,” Sarah said. “They have their own ideas about these things.”
“And when they’re of a mind to be born, babies make no bones about it,” Dr. Sharp said, entering the room with a smile. Dr. Garrett had been called away to another delivery at the last minute, so Dr. Sharp had taken charge of my medical team. She pressed the stethoscope against my belly, moved it, and pressed again. “You’re doing marvelously, Diana. So are the twins. No sign of distress. I’d recommend we try to deliver vaginally.”
“I want to lie down,” I said through gritted teeth as another band of steel shot out from my spine and threatened to cut me in two. “Where’s Marcus?”
“He’s just across the hall,” Matthew said. I dimly remembered ejecting Marcus from the room when the contractions intensified.
“If I need a cesarean, can Marcus be here in time?” I demanded.
“You called?” Marcus said, entering the room in scrubs. His genial grin and unruffled demeanor calmed me instantly. Now that he’d returned, I