what you want.”
“That’s not news.” After the trip to Sheol, I understood better than anyone how much could be taken in recompense.
“Then let’s move forward. As you said, time’s running out.”
He settled me at a table, then went off to collect a vast number of books, based on recommendations from Ms. Devlin. We split them down the middle, and that was a long damn day, punctuated by page turning and ponderous silence. Followed by another one just like it. All the while, I was aware of the clock ticking down. After the second day, I got smart and packed us a lunch. On the fourth day, I had a doctor’s appointment in the morning, so we got a late start. Booke went with me, which was odd, but cool. At least I didn’t endure everything alone.
The doctor was aware I’d seek out another physician once I returned home, so he didn’t ask a lot of questions. He just gave me a general OB tune-up and assured me that the baby was fine, despite the damage to my leg. Then he put a gizmo on my stomach, so we could listen to the heartbeat, and that was when I fell in love. I pressed both hands to my stomach, unable to believe there was really somebody in there. I mean, I had known, but until this moment it wasn’t 100 percent real to me. Now I had this other person, somebody to love and protect, and everything I did going forward would be for him or her.
The doctor pronounced me sound, but cautioned, “Make sure to take your prenatal vitamins daily and get plenty of rest.”
“I’ll make sure she does,” Booke promised.
I shot him a dirty look for making it sound like I couldn’t care for myself, but I knew he meant well, so I kept quiet. At the front desk, I paid for the office visit, then we walked out to the Pinto.
“Do you mind if we stop by a pharmacy before going to Wonder Lanes?”
“I intended to insist, if you didn’t mention it.”
“You’re a sneaky alpha male, you know that?”
“It often works to my advantage. Dress a man in wool cardigans and women simply don’t expect him to be domineering.”
“That was pretty amazing, right?” I touched my belly.
His expression softened, his gray eyes warm and friendly. “It was. I’m honored I got to be there.” He paused as we got into the car, and he didn’t speak until we were almost at the drugstore. “They didn’t have anything like that when Marlena was pregnant. I never heard my son’s heartbeat like that . . . and after he was born, I saw him very little. I don’t think he ever knew—”
“I’m sorry.”
“I think of them as belonging to another life,” he said quietly. “It’s the only way to manage it. Since escaping Stoke, I’m a new man. I have to be. I won’t make the same mistakes.”
“No question of that. From what you told me you weren’t at all responsible or controlling back then, more of a hedonistic devil.” I grinned to show I was teasing.
“I still have those tendencies, but I’m doing my best to quell them.”
Booke waited in the car while I ran into the drugstore. As mine wasn’t a complicated scrip, it only took a few moments to get what I needed. Then I hurried back out. There wasn’t nearly enough time to do everything. With the baby to think about and Chance, whom I loved and might never see again, I felt like I was drowning; each breath was a gasp, pulled into tight, burning lungs.
As if he shared my dark mood, Booke fell silent as we drove back to Wonder Lanes. This afternoon, it was packed—jumping even—due to league activity. Men in bowling shirts high-fived each other over pitchers of beer. The high population made it easier to slip into the maintenance closet and then venture downstairs. I supposed if the foot traffic were higher, people might eventually notice, but there had never been more than four other patrons downstairs, no matter how often we came. The gifted didn’t often need to do extensive research in San Antonio, it seemed.
Another fruitless day dragged on. By the end of it, my eyes hurt, my back hurt, I was cranky, and I wanted a nap. Plus, I had a sick suspicion that I’d waited too long. Spent too much time on Booke and Kel—and that there was no way to find out what I needed to know before the deadline. Panic clutched at my throat with cold, clawing hands, until I had to put my head on the table to meter my breaths.
Booke’s hand rested on the back of my head. “Calm down. Nobody said this search would be easy. We have a little time yet.”
“I’m gonna fail. And then he’ll lose all desire to be human again—”
“Shh, sweetheart, don’t cry.”
Somehow I restrained my overactive pregnancy hormones; surely that was the reason I kept melting down. I’d been in some tough spots and rarely yielded to the urge to bawl about it. But lately, I couldn’t seem to help myself. The other night at Eva’s, I was watching a commercial about a woman who couldn’t get ahold of her mother due to a bad long-distance plan, and I nearly burst into tears.
Then I wanted to cry because that sounded like I didn’t want the baby—and that wasn’t true. In a long history of untenable situations and being an emotional mess, I had never been
“Smack me or something. I’m
“In my day, it wasn’t remotely appropriate to manhandle expectant ladies.”
“Yeah, they frown on it today too.” I paused. “Do you seriously think—”
“I don’t know. But it’s certain he’ll never return if you give up. But that’s your call to make. I understand if it’s too much, especially right now.”
An exhausted sigh pushed out of me. “No. We’ll keep at it, right up until the wire. If I fail, it won’t be because I stopped trying.”
“We’ll start back in the morning. There are still twenty more books to examine, some of which might actually be relevant. Perhaps one full week will mark lucky seven indeed.”
I could only hope.
That night, I didn’t sleep much. I tossed and turned, and when I did finally drift off my dreams were haunted by images of failure. First, it was Chance, stranded in his father’s realm and forgetting all about his human life, and then it was my child’s accusing eyes every time some other kid mentioned his dad. From that point, the dreams morphed into nightmares, becoming odd and disjointed, and incorporated events from Sheol that still haunted me. I woke bathed in sweat that I’d thought was blood, and my heart was going like a trip-hammer. Taking a few bolstering breaths, I got up and padded barefoot to the bathroom. The fixtures were dull and water- stained, and the whole place needed to be regrouted, but for five hundred bucks a month, it was the best I could hope for. I tried not to wake Booke, but he was used to being alone so my footfalls roused him as I crept back toward the bedroom.
“Bad dreams?” he asked.
“That obvious?”
Booke shrugged. “I’ve had a few in my time.”
“I’d imagine so.”
“The worst one used to be dying alone and undiscovered.”
I came toward him, then perched on the edge of the couch, which was covered in rumpled bedding. “At least you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
He smiled at me. “See, things do get better.”
At that point, I really didn’t want to talk about it. “What time does the library open?” It made sense that it could only be accessible to the public during bowling alley operating hours, but I waited for confirmation.
“Not until ten.”
I smiled. “You’ll get to sleep in once you start this new gig.”
“It works out beautifully for all my anticipated carousing. You should try to get a bit more rest, Corine. For the baby, if not yourself.”
“That’s a low blow.” I
