“I managed going down the stairs when you were passed out.”She turned off the water.“I think I’ll be okay.”
His deep chuckle filtered through the door.“I’ll havecoffee waiting.”
Her stomach rebelled, but she thanked him anyway.She spentthe next ten minutes getting cleaned up, and by the time she was dressed in thenavy leggings, belted cream tunic, and casual flats she’d packed, she wasfeeling a hundred percent again.Well, ninety-nine, at least.She still didn’tthink coffee sounded good.
She found Hawkyn in the great hall, seated at the end of oneof the two trestle tables lining the walls.A few Memitim were gathered aroundhim, full of questions—mostly about Azagoth and Sheoul-gra, if the number oftimes those names were thrown around was any indication.
Aurora’s heart squeezed painfully.She couldn’t help butfeel sad for them, and she vowed to call her parents soon, if for no otherreason than to tell them she loved them.She couldn’t imagine not knowing herfather, who had patiently taught her math and how to fish, or her mother, whohad been liberal with hugs and jokes.But then, she couldn’t imagine having theGrim Reaper as a parent.She had to give Hawkyn credit, though; as angry as hewas with Azagoth, he didn’t badmouth him to his siblings.If anything, hedownplayed his own issues with his father and encouraged everyone to decide forthemselves.
It made her admire him even more.
As she approached the group, she turned her attention to thetrays of fruit and pastries that crowded the center of the table.Even better,the mouthwatering aroma of eggs, cheese, and ham wafted from two steamingwarmers and a platter.
The sight of the coffee pitcher, however, turned herstomach.Wendy, the barista at Hot Beans down the street from Aurora’s place,would be shocked.Aurora couldn’t pass the place without a triple-shot caramelcappuccino.
Hawkyn turned to her, his lips curved into a secret smile.The things those lips had done...God, he could do themoverand over.
“Aurora, hey, I saved you a—” He broke off, his mouth open,his face draining of blood.
“Holy shite!”A red-haired Memitim who couldn’t be olderthan twenty gaped at her, his freckles standing out starkly against his ivoryskin.“She’s...she’s...”
“What?”She looked down at herself, searching for evidencethat she’d grown another limb or a horn or an all-over body rash, but shecouldn’t see anything unusual.But noweveryonewas staring.Staringlike she’d, well, grown another limb, a horn, or a rash.“What am I?”
Then she saw it.Her fingernails.They were turning silver,as if she’d applied a coat of glittery nail polish.She gasped, a thread ofpanic wrapping around her like a noose.This was bad.And...impossible.
“Hawkyn.”Drue, who had been so friendly and accommodatinglast night, turned his accusing gazeonher.“Man, youneed to get her out of here.Now.”
Confusion tamped down her immediate panic.“Why?What’sgoing on?”
Hawkyn leaped up from the table, took her hand, andpractically dragged her up the stairs.“Wehave topack.Wehave togo.”
“Hawkyn!”She jerked him to a halt at the threshold of theroom they’d stayed in last night.“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me whywe need to leave.”
“Because Primori aren’t allowed here,” he said, troubledshadows flitting in his eyes.“And you’re Primori.”
“What?”
He stormed inside the room, his motions jerky and stiff ashe packed her duffel.“This is crazy.”Outside the window, a storm was brewing,and it felt as if one was brewing inside, too.“Between last night and thismorning, something happened to make you Primori.”
Recalling this morning’sfit of illness,she looked down at her nails.
“I...thinkI might know what itwas,” she said, nausea welling up again, but this time she was sure it wascoming from nerves.
He rounded on her, his body taut, his expression etched withconcern.“Tell me.”
Holding her belly with one hand to quell the butterflies,she held up the other, showing him her silver nails, a telltale sign among herpeople.
“I don’t understand.”He scowled at her hand.“Do you thinkpainting your nails did it?”
“I didn’t paint them.And there’s no easy way to say this,”she said in a voice that quaked like the tree outside the window being buffetedby the wind, “but...”
“But what?”
She hesitated.Shifted her weight.And then blurted wordsshe hadn’t thought she’d say for a long, long time.
“I’m pregnant.”
I’m pregnant.
