Between Light and Dark (36 page)

"Good morning, lovely witches," she sang.

"Witches?" Abrams said.

"I'll explain," Laurell said. She slid into the seat next to him just as a wave of pain clamped over her belly. She
flinched.

"Hill?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Labor pains. Do they feel sort of like menstrual cramps
times ten?"

Hillary nodded and paused in the process of pouring herself some apple juice. "At first. Once you get into the more
advanced stages of labor, though, it's more like times a
hundred, honey." Hillary glanced at Abrams then, finally
noticing the thin man, who was sitting silently in his chair,
taking the scene in with wide eyes. "Who's he?"

"I'll explain," Laurell said for what seemed like the tenth
time that morning. "Once the pains start, it'll be like,
what, hours and hours before I actually deliver, right?"

Hillary harrumphed. "Don't be so sure. I've seen women
pop a baby out within a half hour of going into labor. I've
also seen it take days. Either way, we don't know what we're
dealing with as far as your baby goes. I mean, that kid is special, right?"

Hillary took a swig of her juice, then realization dawned
in her chocolate brown eyes. "Do you think you're in labor?"

Axiom descended the stairs, still rubbing sleep from his
eyes. His stomach rumbled as the smell of eggs and bacon
drifted to his nose. He ran his fingers through his hair and
smoothed his rumpled jeans and sweater, then started toward the kitchen. Before he reached it he heard a beeping
sound emanating from the library. It came from Laurell's
backpack. He reached in, pushed the Book of Shadows to
the side, and found the culprit. A red light blinked repeatedly on a cell phone.

He went to the kitchen. Laurell sat in a chair at the dining table, lips compressed, hands pressed over her stomach.

"Are you alright?" He was at her side in an instant, the
air sparking with silver.

She nodded. An older man with gaunt cheeks and thinning hair sat next to her. "How in the world did you just
move so quickly?" the man asked.

Axiom glanced from Laurell to Hillary to Wayne. Wayne
offered a lopsided grin. "We just finished explaining about
the coven and the protection shield and how it is Laurell
here came to be nine months pregnant in just three months'
time. We didn't think to tell him about you yet."

Axiom frowned. "Just who is this man?"

The man offered him a trembling hand. "I'm Robert
Abrams. I'm the Graves's family attorney."

Axiom ignored the outstretched hand. "Why are you
here ?"

"It's okay. He's clean," Laurell said.

Axiom focused on Laurell's face again. "You do not appear well."

"Women generally don't look their best when they're in
labor, honey," Hillary said, hands on her broad hips, eyes
sparkling with humor.

Excitement and sorrow mingled inside of him. His child
would be born soon. His mission would be successful. He
would have to return to the Light Realm. He placed a hand
on Laurell's shoulder. "How may I make you more comfortable ?"

"Hillary made me a bed in the library. I'm going to go lie
down and just rest. I'll deliver the baby there when it's time."

"When will it be time?" He would not leave her side.

Hillary chuckled. "Oh my, now don't get the idea that
child is going to pop out this instant. It could be hours yet
before Laurell goes into active labor."

A temporary but sharp relief filled him. He would have
to leave soon, but not yet.

"Why do you have my phone?" Laurell asked.

Axiom handed her the phone. He had forgotten he held
it. "It is beeping."

Laurell took it from him and retrieved her message. Her
brow furrowed in concern. "Everyone is okay at the covenstead, but apparently there was a bird attack and then some
Finders showed up. The Umbrae know they were tricked."

"It doesn't matter," Hillary said. "They don't know where
we are.

"The Umbrae are resourceful creatures. They will probably find a way to trace us here, but we are safe inside the
protection circle," Axiom said.

"Is the rest of the coven coming here now?" Wayne
asked.

Laurell shook her head. "No. They're afraid the Umbrae
may be lurking around to follow them."

Her groin spasmed. Laurell grimaced. "That one really
hurt," she said, rubbing her middle.

"Let's get you to the library. We'll work on some of those
breathing techniques I showed you before." Hillary helped
Laurell to her feet and led her from the kitchen.

After getting comfy on the mattresses Hillary and Wayne
had dragged down from the upstairs bedroom and set up in
the library, Laurell snuggled into the blankets and pillows
and tried to rest. Hillary came in and out of the room a few
times, bringing more pillows, sheets, and a long, cotton gown
she'd found in one of the bedrooms. Grandmother's, Laurell
thought. She obediently slipped into the gown. Hillary reminded her of her breathing techniques, and determined
that her contractions were only twelve minutes or so apart;
she wasn't in active labor yet.

"I'm going to let you rest. You just keep breathing, and
I'll be back to check on you soon," Hillary said. She placed a glass of water near Laurell's makeshift bed and left the library, closing the door behind her.

Laurell's eyes fluttered closed. She placed her hands on
her belly, rubbed circles, and told the child within to go
easy on her. So far, the contractions weren't bad at all.
She'd almost managed to drift off when the swooshing
sound of the library door opening brought her back to the
here and now.

Axiom. He crossed to her bed and lowered himself to his
knees beside her. His gaze was tender as he touched her
cheek. "You are doing well?"

She nodded. "I'm surprised I can rest at all, but Hill said
this stage of labor is mild and lots of women can even sleep
through it."

"May I bring you anything?"

"I think I'm all set. Hillary's been buzzing in and out of
here with so much anxious energy, I was actually kind of
glad for the quiet."

He gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. His jaw
was tense, and she realized something wasn't quite right
with him.

"Can you stay here with me? Until the baby is born?" she
asked.

He squeezed her hand and his eyes flashed with sorrow. "I
wish I could, but as the child's birth draws near, I can perceive my shadow side trying to emerge. There is so much
Light in the child."

Laurell pleaded with her eyes. "You can fight the darkness. You can keep it at bay."

He pressed a kiss to her brow. His voice was resigned.
"Your faith in me warms my heart, my goddess. However, I
cannot risk you or the child."

Axiom pulled her into an embrace, hugging her tightly.

Her chest was tight with grief and she clutched him fiercely. "You know I love you." Having uttered the words,
she no longer knew why she'd been so afraid of her feelings.

He settled her back into the bed and rained kisses on her
fingertips, his lips hot, his gaze fierce. "You have come to
mean a great deal to me." He glanced away, collecting his
thoughts. When he faced her again, his expression was unreadable.

"You have done well, Laurell. The world owes you a great
debt."

He hadn't returned her declaration of love. Tears
pricked her eyes, but before she could speak further, another contraction took hold.

Noticing her discomfort, he stood and walked to the
door. "I will find Hillary. You should not be alone."

Laurell rolled to her side and moaned into her pillow.
That's it? That's good-bye? She thought of going after him,
making him tell her he loved her, but quickly discarded the
idea. It didn't matter whether he said the words or not. She
knew he loved her. She felt it every time he touched her,
looked at her, kissed her. Besides, she'd never see him again
anyway. Why prolong the agony?

Minutes ticked by like hours. Where was Hillary? She
couldn't just sit in the bed and cry. She pulled herself upright and stood on shaking legs. Hillary had told her once
that walking could be a good way to speed up labor. She began slowly circling the room.

The library door opened again, and she spun around, expecting to see Hillary standing there. Instead, it was
Abrams.

He walked over and handed her the glass of water he
carried.

"Hillary said to bring you this."

She motioned toward the cup sitting next to the bed.
"She already brought me some."

"Perhaps she thought you'd already drunk that."

Laurell took the glass from him and set it on the coffee
table near the couch. "Where is Hillary?"

She craned her neck around Abrams. There was no one
in the entryway or near the front door. The house was unusually quiet.

"I don't know, but the two gentlemen are outside. I was
told to stay here with you for the moment. I sensed something was wrong, but no one would tell me just what."
Abrams's eyes were glassy and bright. The small smile curving his thin lips seemed out of place. What was there to be
happy about? He'd just said something was wrong.

Unease settled in Laurell's gut. She tried to push past
him, but he stopped her with one hand on her arm.

"What are you doing? I need to see what's going on." She
tried to push his hand off her arm, but he held on tight, surprisingly strong for such a skinny man.

"I was specifically told to keep you inside and out of danger."

"What danger?" Her voice sounded panicked to her own
ears. Abrams's gaze had gone shifty, and his hands trembled. She got the distinct feeling she needed to get away
from him. His explanation about where everyone was and
why he needed to keep her in the library didn't ring true.

Her eyes narrowed. "Look, you'd better let me go or
things could get very ugly, very fast."

Abrams's eyes widened in mock fear. A sharp laugh came
from his throat. "Oh, yes, ugly indeed." He led her farther
into the library, away from the door, and pushed her toward
the wall, fumbling in his pocket as they moved. His hand
emerged clutching a knife.

"Abrams-I mean, Robert, come on. You don't want to
hurt me."

He waved the knife near her face. "Don't I?"

She struggled to pull away again, but that movement
only caused him to push her more forcefully to the wall and
to lift the knife to her throat. His hand hovered only an
inch or two from her delicate flesh.

Fear knotted her stomach. "This is crazy," she said, unable to keep her voice from wavering.

"No. Crazy is serving your family for so many years without one little bit of gratitude. Your mother was a selfish, selfcentered woman with enough money to live on for many
lifetimes."

Laurell cleared her throat. "Well, we agree on that. I
don't see what that has to do with me." Her attempt to establish common ground fell on deaf ears.

Abrams continued talking as though he hadn't heard.
"Your grandmother was a good woman, though. She even
had her will rewritten so if there were no more Graves descendants to inherit Graves Manor, it would go to me. Not
that she anticipated such an outcome, mind you. It was more
of a safety measure in case you met an untimely end. She
seemed afraid that might happen."

Laurell groaned inwardly. No doubt Grandmother had
worried the Umbrae might get to Laurell or something might go wrong with the mission. She knew I would be in
danger as a result of who I am. A witch. A woman fit to mother
the Earth Balancer.

"Yes, your grandmother was quite generous in rewriting
her will."

"I don't remember that provision being in her will," Laurell said. She'd read the document carefully after her grandmother's death. There had been no mention of Abrams in it.

Abrams grinned. "You didn't see that version. You and
your silly mother saw only the version I wanted you to see.
The real document will come in handy, though, after you're
dead."

"You don't mean it," Laurell whispered, her pulse beating
frantically. She glanced toward the doorway. Just where the
hell was everybody?

"Of course I mean it. I regret having lost my nerve the
day we met here at Graves Manor when I delivered that
book of your grandmother's." His eyes took on a distinct
sheen. "I came back, you know, thinking you might still be
here. I waited for you, but you never appeared. I half hoped
you'd been kidnapped or murdered already and I wouldn't
have to do the job."

"So you never reported me missing," she said.

Abrams shook his head. "I hid your vehicle and continued
to check back here every so often, thinking you might return. For all I knew, you'd called a friend and taken a trip
with someone. I assumed you'd come back for your car eventually. If you were still alive to claim it."

"And here I am," she said, catching her breath as another contraction arced through her.

"Yes, how convenient." His eyes darkened. "Only you're
not alone. You showed up with three friends, two of whom
are fairly large men. That made my task much more difficult."