"What now?" Azriel said.
I thrust a hand through my hair and sighed. "I'd better make an appearance downstairs, just to see how things have been going in our absence."
He nodded. "Get yourself something to eat while you're at it."
I half smiled. "You're nagging again."
"Someone has to nag, otherwise you'd be skin and bone." He caught my hand and tugged me into his embrace. "Besides, you carry my son. It is important you keep your strength up."
Hurt flicked through me, but I forced a smile. "I'm not about to do anything that would endanger his life."
"But you all too readily endanger your own, and one cannot be without the other."
Tears prickled my eyes. Which was stupid, because his concern was perfectly natural. My health could adversely affect the health of our child, and there was no denying I really hadn't been taking the best care of myself lately, what with the drinking and the lack of eating. And I did know that he cared for me. Trouble was, caring wasn't enough. Not anymore.
I pulled out of his embrace and headed for the door, adding over my shoulder, "I won't be long."
"Risa —"
I didn't stop, just said over my shoulder, "I'm fine, Azriel. Don't worry about it."
"If you were fine, you would not be close to tears. We need —"
"I'm pregnant, and pregnant women tend to get irrational," I cut in. "You'll probably have seen a whole flood of tears by the time this child is born."
And with that, I retreated down the stairs. Not that running would do much good when the man I was running from could pop into existence anywhere he chose to. He didn't, though. Maybe he knew that there was nothing he could say to ease the irrationality. Nothing but one simple four-letter word; a word that probably wasn't even in reaper language.
I paused on the bottom step, searching the room for Margie. She was easy enough to find – she was built like an Amazon and towered over most of the patrons by a good six inches. She was clearing a table near the front door, so I made my way through the crowd toward her.