area.
Shame wasn’t breathing hard, didn’t even seem like he’d broken a sweat. He did, however, shove his hands in the pockets of his coat and hunch up his shoulders like he was enduring a hailstorm.
I gave him a questioning look.
“It’s just. . babies.” He said it like most people say
I had no idea what his problem was. “You’re afraid of babies?”
“Shut up.” He strode past me to the reception desk and, I noted, stayed far enough away that the light wouldn’t quite clear the shadows beneath his hood. “Violet Beckstrom,” he said. “Could we see her?”
The woman at the counter looked sixteen, the tight curls of her black hair pulled back in a flowered headband that make her deep brown skin burnish gold.
“She’s resting. There isn’t a restriction on visitors, though. Are you family?”
“I am.” I stepped ahead of Shame. “And he’s a friend.”
“She’s been given some painkillers, so she might be sleeping. We’d like her to get as much rest as possible, so if she is asleep, you could come back later.” She pointed down one of the halls that branched off from the main hall. “Down there. Room 3243.”
“Thank you,” I said.
We headed down the hall and I noted Shame walked closer to me, almost brushing my shoulder with his.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I won’t let the scary babies hurt you.”
He didn’t say anything. Which was weird. I had no idea what had gotten into him.
And then we passed the huge glass window beyond which was the nursery. Shame’s body language changed. He went from stiff-shouldered and tense, to relaxed, loose, like a runner who was warmed up and ready for the road.
The emotion that rolled off him was hunger.
Holy shit.
“You aren’t afraid of the babies. You want to. . eat them? What the hell?” I was still whispering, but that did not lessen the horror in my voice.
“It’s not that I want to eat them-well, okay, maybe a little.” He grinned at me. “Oh, put the Bible down, Beckstrom. I’m not going to hurt babies. It’s. . it’s just so much life around here. Life, get it?” He tipped his head down so the shadows cleared his eyes, and I was relieved to see Shamus behind those eyes. Sane, clear. “I’m on some short supply of that right now. And babies are full of fresh, beautiful life energy.”
“Tell me you wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t. Not in a million years. Not if my life depended on it. Not for anyone. Not for anything. Not ever.”
And I knew he meant it. Which was good. I did not want to have to fight him. Again. But I would for babies.
We were still walking. I put my hand on his arm, and could feel the bunch of muscle against bone. He might promise to never take the life energy from the babies, but it wasn’t an easy thing to resist.
“Is this because of the fight?” I asked. “What you and Terric did to help me keep Zay alive? Is it a part of dark magic?”
“No, it’s just a part of Death magic. Energy transference, life transference, carried on the magic. And the side effect that comes with giving too much energy before you draw on magic again, or reclaim that energy.”
“Eating babies is a side effect of Death magic?”
“Like dry mouth.”
“Is a disgusting sense of humor a side effect too?”
“No, that’s all me.”
“Shame.” I stopped. Pulled on his arm.
He pivoted toward me, his head down again, slanting me a gaze though the shadows. “Yes, Beckstrom?”
“Do you need energy? Life energy?”
“Not need. Want.” He pulled his arm away. “I couldn’t take it anyway. No magic to carry it on. Can we keep walking?”
We could and we did, passing the babies, and stopping about midway down the hall at Violet’s room. “You coming in here?” I asked.
“Afraid I’ll gnaw on your stepmother?”
I made a face at him and opened the door as quietly as I could. Violet was in the bed. Someone had brushed her hair back, revealing a bruise that covered her forehead and spread palm-wide down the left side of her face. She was in a hospital gown, an extra blanket tucked across her rounded figure, monitors and an IV hooked up to her.
Something inside me twisted, hurt. I felt, more than heard, my dad’s moan, his sorrow. It was good enough to know she was alive. Probably better if I didn’t go in to see her. Better for me. For my control over my dad. And maybe for Shame too.
Violet stirred, opened her eyes, squinted, without her glasses, over at us. “Allie,” she said softly, and a little slurred. “Come in, please.”
So much for walking away. I stepped in. “Hi,” I said.
“I won’t stay long. This is Shamus Flynn. He drove me here.”
Shame held up one hand. “Hello, Mrs. Beckstrom. I could step out if you two want some privacy.”
What did you know? Flynn had manners.
“It’s fine,” she said. Violet pursed her lips, as if trying to feel her teeth. “I’m numb.”
“Something to help you sleep, I think. Has the doctor talked to you?”
“She said I should sleep.” She closed her eyes, and the green lines on the monitor jumped before it settled again. I wasn’t sure what the doctors were monitoring, but I knew it had something to do with magic as well as her physical injuries.
“I’ll let you rest. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, that the baby’s okay.”
Violet frowned. “Baby?” She pressed her fingers against her eyes. “They said I might go into early labor.” She pulled her hands away from her eyes and cradled her stomach. Her eyes opened and the whites were red and glossy from more than just rubbing. She’d been crying. “Poor little thing. There was so much magic in the room. I can still feel it in me. In the baby.” The tremor in her voice gave away her fear. She sounded small. Frightened.
I put my hand on her hand.
Dizziness washed over me. Dad pressed against the backs of my eyes, against the edges of my mind, pushing forward.
I couldn’t let him. Couldn’t trust what he would say to her. It never went well when he tried to run my life, or my body.
He did not stop pushing.
“I know you’re going to be fine,” I said to Violet.
“Both of you are going to be fine. The doctors are looking after you. Good doctors.” I glanced at Shame, and he nodded.
She looked down at her stomach. “I don’t want to lose the baby. It’s all I have left. Of him. Of Daniel.” The last word came out with a longing. “He’d be so angry I hurt our baby.” She made a sound that was half sob.
Dad shoved. Hard.
Like falling off a curb, I stumbled and landed in the back of my head. I could still see Violet. Could still hear her, but I could not feel my hand on hers. Which wasn’t a big surprise, since I couldn’t feel any of the rest of my body either.
“I-,” Dad said through me.
