Chasing Demons (Book 2) Rated R

Chapter 28

I didn't see Christian for two days following the encounter with Vincent.

Olga would come and go, with a warm, delicious meal three times a day. She'd spend some time at night drawing baths for me filled with lotions of jasmine and warm vanilla.

When I was done, she'd return, somehow always anticipating my next move.

I wondered if all this attention was on Christian's orders.

And I was both glad and sad that he had not come to see me.

Currently, Olga's nimble fingers were in my hair, gentle as she twisted my curls into a loose bun at the nape of my neck.

Satisfied with her handiwork, she patted my shoulder and scooted a tray of steak and potatoes toward me.

"Eat," She said, motioning to her mouth. Her English was limited, but she seemed to understand everything I said back to her. Her face, which was otherwise pale and smooth, had a smattering of freckles.

She was shorter and voluptuously rounder than any other vampire I'd seen. And it was perfect on her.

"Keep your strength," She said. "If there is baby, baby needs to eat."

I smiled up at her, but it was strained.

Olga left me to myself again and I focused on steadying my breathing.

I didn't want to think about or entertain the wild possibility of a baby.

Instead, I thought of what I knew to be true: the bond, as Christian had said was shattered. I felt it in my bones, had felt it since the night of the battle, the sensation of something missing, the moment I'd returned from the in-between.

It'd felt like I'd gone into a room looking for something important and forgotten what it was.

Like a part of me was missing.

I'd read that sometimes when a person lost a limb, they could still feel the ghost sensation of it.

Phantom pain.

That's what this broken bond felt like.

Of course, my love for him was still there but deep in the crevices of my heart, I no longer felt like I might explode without him.

I could no longer sense him or his emotions, which was probably for the best right now.

My own messy emotions were enough for me.

After a while, I tossed in bed, facing the door, and willed myself to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up with a start.

Slowly, I sat up, testing out my limbs.

I didn't feel the urge to vomit.

I would, wouldn't I...if what Vincent had said was true?

I groaned as I glanced down at my stomach.

This could not be happening.

For one, I'd never wanted children in the first place. The tattoo shop, my life in Oregon, lazy nights hanging on Damian's patio...getting high as a kite.

That was my life. And it was enough for me.

A baby would only complicate things.

Especially with Christian, who thought the best thing for me was to be away from him.

What would I do, all alone with a child?

And yeah, maybe he was only trying to protect me but just like a cancer, his imagined cure for this problem was turning out to be worse than the illness.