“It did.” He grabbed her waist possessively and yanked her against his chest, his death-black eyes not missing her sudden flush. “We should take our clothes off here so we don’t drip all over the floors.” He tugged at the dress’ straps, and before either of them realized what they were doing, their soaked clothes were in a heap. “It is your birthday,” Eamon whispered against her mouth as he hoisted her legs around his waist and carried her to the picturesque window seat. “Allow me to wish you a happy day properly.”
He sat on the soft cushions, carrying her with him, and as rain beat against the glass panes in a romantic rhythm, the world ceased to exist. Only Isobel Emerson and Eamon Stone existed. Only their love, their voices, their movements. Only their hopes and dreams mixed with passion. Only their promises to each other sworn with both voice and body. With the storm as their witness, it was the perfect goodbye to the final hours of her thirty-fifth birthday and a happy greeting to the first hours of yet another year of Bel’s life. Of yet another year where Eamon Stone would prove himself the most important person in her life… besides the dog hiding in the dark corner from the oh so scary storm.
“A child?”Eamon growled. “Why, they are my favorite to eat!” He dove into the bushes, childish shrieks filling the garden with panic, but before they could flee to safety, Eamon caught two of Rose’s four sons and yanked them out of the leaves. “I shall feast tonight. Tell me, where are your brothers?” He hoisted the boys over his head, tossed them over his shoulder, and charged through the foliage in search of the missing kids. Briar’s boys were too young to play hide-and-seek, and Giselle, the youngest Emerson sister above Bel, had an infant girl, but Michael and John Darling had started the game with their dog, Nanna, and Cerberus. Bel’s second-oldest sister, Odette, had twin teenage girls, and they’d joined in the moment Eamon got involved. Rose’s four boys—who were all under ten—weremesmerized by the giant man who could carry multiple children on his back, and her twin Luna had a boy and a girl who were almost old enough to understand the rules of hide-and-seek… almost. The adults had tried to join the fun, but the kids only wanted Eamon to hunt them, and hunt them he did. They would sleep well tonight.
“You almost look winded,” Bel said when Eamon finally collapsed on the blanket beside her and downed an entire glass of lemonade. The Darlings and the Emersons were staying at the Reale Estate for the weekend, and after the hectic surprise party, they’d opted for a Saturday at home. Bel suspected the backyard picnic had less to do with being tired from the late night and more to do with the fact that her family viewed Eamon’s mansion as an all-inclusive resort. He’d made breakfast for everyone that morning, and he’d had the foresight to over-order the catering, meaning that lunch in the garden was expensive leftovers.
“I am winded,” he chuckled. “They’ve been testing just how many of them I can hold at once. Children… alas, I have met my match.”
“You’re so good with them.” Bel kissed his cheek as she leaned against his reclined torso. “Which is surprising considering your past. You would make a great dad. Do you want kids?”
“No.” His answer was so fast that Bel blinked as if she’d been slapped.
“Not even with me?” She shifted to meet his gaze.
“Especially not with you.” His words felt like another slap to the face, but harder this time.
“What is that supposed to mean?” She kept her voice low so that her family wouldn’t hear the insults coming from his mouth.
“Because I’m not human. I’m Dhampir. I’m of hell, and I cannot give you a child like your sisters’ husbands gave them.Black magic is needed to create offspring. Hate. Anger. I told you how I was conceived. I won’t do that to you.”
“Oh.” Bel recoiled for an entirely different reason. “I didn’t expect that would apply to us.”
“We love each other, unlike my parents, but it doesn’t change the fact that evil is needed to breed evil. Same goes for turning a human. Black magic is often fueled by death, as you’ve seen countless times, but when the subject’s life is needed to ensure the offspring’s survival, hate and fear and violence are the next strongest evils. To recreate what I am with you, I’d have to become my father, and I don’t even want to talk about it. I almost killed you once. I’ll never raise a hand against you again… especially not like that. Just thinking it makes me nauseous.”
“Can you have mortal children?” She sagged against him, her lunch souring in her stomach at this revelation. It made sense, but she hadn’t considered the reality that Eamon couldn’t give her a family.“Would they need to be Dhampir?”
“I’m not human, not completely. I can’t give you what I’m not.”
“So, biological children are a never for us?”
“I’m sorry.” He caught her jaw and forced her to meet his gaze. “I assumed you’d put two and two together. I can’t give you kids. I won’t do that to you.”
Bel pulled her face from his grip and inched backward on the blanket, Eamon not missing the meaning of her distance, but she couldn’t bear his hands on her. Not while he reminded her what it would cost to create a family, what he’d have to become to make her a mother. She understood his refusal to become a father. Children were a future they’d never see, and as that thread of possibility unraveled, she couldn’t help but mourn the daughters she’d never bring into this world.
“I guess the upside is no accidental pregnancy.” She ran a hand through her brunette curls. This wasn’t the birthday giftshe’d been expecting, but there was no challenging him. Their relationship was strong, but it would never survive what he’d have to inflict on her to ensure a child. All that remained was to look on the bright side of her new reality. “We don’t have to worry about protection anymore.”
“No.” He grabbed her hand, the darkness in his gaze betraying his inability to keep his distance. “We don’t have to worry about surprises.”
“Besides, we can always adopt.” Bel smiled; the situation not as hopeless as her initial reaction indicated. “Plenty of kids need parents, and we have plenty of space here for them.”
“No,” Eamon repeated that deafening syllable.
“No?” She glared at her ancient boyfriend. “Just like that?”
“I can’t—grab Cerberus. Let’s go for a walk.”
“I don’t want to go for a…” Bel realized he was staring at her father, and she understood his suggestion. It seemed her scowls had not gone unnoticed. “Sure. Cerberus, come on, buddy.” She slipped on her shoes and clapped her hands until her pitbull chased them into the roses.
“Why can’t you adopt?” Bel challenged the moment they were out of earshot. “Trust me, I understand refusing to have biological kids. You’re saving me from experiencing your mother’s nightmares, and no child of mine will grow up the way you did, but what do you have against adoption?”
“Nothing.” He glanced down at her hand, the desire to grip her fingers written across his features, but Bel kept her hands glued to her side.
“Then why won’t you consider it?”
“You die, I die, remember,” he said as if it were obvious. “I’ve lived thousands of lives. I’ve gotten everything I wanted, experienced all this world has to offer except for love. That was the only thing missing, and I think it’s what kept me alive—that need to experience love once in my life. You gave me that gift,and I won’t live in a world without you. I don’t want to live in a world where your photographs yellow and fade, where I forget the sound of your voice and the feel of your skin. I won’t outlive you. You were what I was missing, and I intend to remain by your side both in this life and whatever comes after. I’ve already decided that when you finally pass, I’ll take my own life so that we can be buried together.”
“Eamon.” Bel stopped short. “You can’t kill yourself.”
