Blaéz narrowed his eyes. Fine, he deserved her anger. But did she really imagine he’d put up with her ignoring him? He went after her.
“Right, then,” Michael said. “Whoever this is, needs to be found and contained—can’t have demons going after him.” Then he drawled, “Since the Celt’s terminated this meeting, that’s it for now.”
Týr’s amused chuckle rang out.
Arsehole.Blaéz slammed the word into his mind with a whole lot of power.
A satisfying grunt followed. Message received.
Darci glanced back at their rumbles and laughter. Her cell rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and answered. And went dead still, her face paling as if all the blood drained from her.
Blaéz was at her side in a heartbeat. He grasped her gently by the arms. “What is it?”
Her mouth trembling, she looked up, her gorgeous eyes stark with dread. “My brother—Grace—she’s in hospital. I have to go.”
“I’ll take you.” Finally…maybe he could be the person she could lean on, instead of hurting her at every turn.
Chapter 18
As the hospitalelevator doors slid closed, Darci wrapped her arms around her waist and tried to pull her shaky emotions back under control. No use upsetting her brother and letting him see her own misery.
The awful fight with Blaéz earlier that afternoon weighed heavily on her mind. And being in his arms when he’d dematerialized them to the hospital downtown made it too hard to bear.
God, she still had to come to terms with him not being able to feel anything, except sexually. Her chest constricted in grief at the loss of a real—anormalrelationship between them. That this would eventually develop into something more.
Unable to avoid his gaze, she steeled her spine and looked at him, becoming entangled in the intensity of his stare.
“You okay?” he asked.
No, she wasn’t. She wanted him to hold her, reassure her all was going to be well between them, but she didn’t see how that would happen. “We need to talk.”
“We will.”
She could read nothing from his expression, and the cramp in her stomach grew worse.
The steel partition rolled open. The acrid odor of disinfectant flooded her nose as she walked out onto the maternity floor. The horrible smell always brought home the stark reminder of the tragedies her family had endured.
Soft voices and the sounds of a ringing phone drifted to her as they approached the nurses’ station, then utter silence as if a vacuum had sucked up the faint noise. A nurse hurried to them since it was past visiting hours, her rubber soles squeaking on the floor. Her stern expression shifted to a flustered one as she laid eyes on Blaéz. He spoke. Darci had no idea what he said. The nurse nodded and pointed to the left corridor.
At the far end of the passage, Declan paced outside a room there, head down. His tie skewed, he shoved his fingers through his messy hair. Darci’s throat closed off with the urge to cry at his beaten-down appearance. He looked up. The torment on his face tore her apart. The thinly erected walls inside her cracked. She ran to him. “Dec—”
He clasped her to his chest, his shoulders shaking.
“She’s bleeding again, Dars,” he said, his voice thick with anguish. “How can this be? She was fine at the last check up. If she loses this baby, too, it will devastate her.”
And you, Darci thought, her own eyes blurring. Grace had made it to sixteen weeks this time, and there had been hope. But now…God, please, please save this baby—save them.
“It’s a girl.” Declan eased back from her and smiled amidst his tears.
A wobbly smile touched her lips. Darci swallowed her sob and straightened his skewed tie. “That’s wonderful. But why are you out here and not with Grace?”
“She’s sleeping…strapped to all those machines. I needed—I need…”
He needed time alone, Darci understood, to pull himself together.
Declan looked past her and his features tensed. He said nothing, gave Blaéz a barely perceptible nod and walked back into the ward.
Darci turned to Blaéz, who waited a short distance away, giving her space.Hewas a god, had impossible abilities—she had to try. He watched her silently as she made her way to him. “Blaéz,” she forced his name past a suddenly dry throat, “can’t you help? Make the baby stay in longer?”
