Fantastical

Chapter Twenty-Two Something to Celebrate

I was silent on the ride home mostly because I was thinking of all my mother had said, all that had happened between Tor and me and about the words to “Crash into Me”.

It wasn’t until Tor unlocked the door to my apartment that it hit me Tor had been silent all the ride home too.

He opened the door for me, I preceded him, he closed it, locked it and stalked, yes, stalked to the kitchen.

Hmm. It seemed I’d missed something.

I saw the light go on there, I switched on a few lamps in the living room then I followed him and stopped in the doorway to see he was opening and closing cupboards.

“Can I get you something?” I asked quietly and his eyes sliced to me.

They were broody and intense.

Oh boy.

“Do you have spirits?” he asked back.

Oh boy!

“Um… you had whisky with my Dad,” I pointed out.

“Yes, and I knew I would be operating that vehicle, undoubtedly in the rain, which it does all the bloody time here, so I did not have as much as I would have liked for operating that vehicle inebriated would not be wise,” he returned.

He was right about that.

“In the cupboard by the wall,” I belatedly answered his question.

He went to the cupboard, sorted through my myriad of bottles, pulled out some bourbon, opened it, sniffed it and went to the cupboard that held my glasses.

I watched him pour himself a rather healthy dose as I grew uncomfortable.

Tor was being broody, something he could be but he was usually kind of… openly broody. As in, it was rare he didn’t tell me what was on his mind.

And he’d just had an emotional dinner with my parents and he wasn’t telling me what was on his mind.

“Is something on your mind?” I asked after he swallowed a large swig.

He looked at me and declared weirdly, “Things here, in your world, are more advanced.”

“Well… yeah,” I replied.

“Is this true with medicine?”

My head tipped to the side. “Medicine?”

“Do you not call it medicine?” he asked, didn’t wait for me to answer and he went on to explain using the word, “Healing.”

“Yes, we call it medicine and yes, it’s more advanced.”

He scowled at me a second then drained his glass. Then he poured another healthy measure.

“Tor,” I started hesitantly, not sure what to do with him in this mood, “has something upset you?”

He answered immediately, “While you were with your mother in the kitchen, your father was verbose.”

Uh-oh.

Dad could have told him anything. About my punk phase, or worse, my militant vegetarian phase, or worse, the excruciatingly uncomfortable time he found Tad Millstrom getting to second base with me in our basement.

“And?” I whispered.

“And, he told me about Rosa, your Rosa, the sister you did not have.”

“Seriously?” I asked softly, surprised by this. Dad could get chatty while smashed but that was an overshare, even for Dad. I knew this because I’d been around Dad while he was hammered a bunch of times and he’d (obviously) never mentioned Rosa.

“Seriously,” Tor replied then sucked back another large swallow.

“Tor, I don’t –”

His eyes sliced to mine and the look in them made me snap my mouth shut.

Then he announced, “You’re carrying my child.”

My body went statue-still except my eyes. They blinked.

God, I forgot about the pregnancy test. How could I forget something like that?

“I –” I started, that one syllable trembling.

“You’ve been in my bed every night for six weeks and I’ve been in you every night for six weeks and we’ve been together day in, day out for even longer. You have not once had your cycle.”

Oh God.

“Tor –”

“Your mother nearly died having your sister who did die.”

My stomach dropped. “She did?” he glared at me. “My mother almost died, I mean.”

“Indeed,” he clipped and threw back more bourbon.

Although this news upset me, greatly, I felt the need to stay focused on whatever was bothering Tor.

“Tor, I don’t –”

He gave me his eyes again and I again snapped my mouth shut. “Women in my world regularly die during childbirth. It happens so often, the midwives petitioned my father, in his kingdom, and myself, in Bellebryn, to make a law as the situation is fraught and the decision, save mother or child, is emotional. They felt the man was in no state during this time to make such a grave decision. And those around him could give thoughtful advice or this advice could be selfish or misguided. After much weighing of the matter and debate, and you can well imagine, considering my father’s history with his wives, that there was much weighing of the matter and debate, my father and I agreed that the midwife should always save the mother. So this was made law.”

My heart clutched and I knew why he was broody and struggling with his mood.

I also understood why he was being so romantic and wonderful and protective and… and… all of it.

Because he thought I was pregnant with his heir and he was trying to win me and take me back to his world not for me but to keep me sweet so he could have what he wanted most in the world.

And now he was thinking that if I were to carry that heir and we were transported to his world, he himself had created a law that, should I have difficulties, they would have to save me not his bloody precious heir.

My hand lifted and my fingers curled around the doorframe as I stared at him wondering why I kept searching for hope with this guy and always getting kicked in the stomach.

“I just don’t believe you,” I whispered, my voice trembling now for a different reason.

His brows drew together. “Pardon?”

I glared at him.

Then I shouted, “I don’t believe you! You’re not a jerk or a dick or an asshole. You’re a pig!”

Then I turned on my foot and stomped to my bedroom. I was halfway to the bathroom when I was halted with an arm around my waist and turned to face Tor.

“Would you stop doing that!” I yelled. “If I want to go somewhere, I should just be able to go!”

“Cora, what the bloody hell has you in this state?” Tor growled, he was angry, clear to see, and mystified too, equally clear to see, the pig.

“You!” I snapped then flung at him. “But you’re also lucky, seeing as you’re the big man in Bellebryn. If we go back, then along with annulling your marriage to the other Cora, you can quickly change the law so it’s the child that’s saved, not the mother. So, if I have a difficult childbirth, you’ll be certain not to lose your precious heir!”

His head jerked like I slapped him then his eyes burned into mine before he said in a low voice, “Please tell me you did not just say that.”

“I bloody did!” I shot back. “We both know I am and always have had one purpose for you. To be the vessel that safely delivers your successor.”

“Now I need you to tell me you did not just say that,” he ground out.

“Don’t pretend it isn’t true,” I hissed and he let me go like touching me was akin to getting burned with acid and he took a step back.

Then he said softly, his eyes locked on mine, “You’ve convinced yourself about me so you’ll not believe this but given the choice, both then and especially now, to save our child or to save you, I wouldn’t have to think about it even for a second. I would save you.”

I sucked in breath, my head got light and the only reason I didn’t go down was that I stayed focused on him.

He went on, “Then, because I could pretend during the days when you were away from me but especially during the nights when I had you that you were the Cora I needed you to be. And, my sweet, you’ll not believe this either but the truth of the matter is, I enjoyed every fucking second of it. And now, because I know you are.”

Oh my God.

“Tor –”

He lifted a hand. “You’ve said enough.”

Then he turned on his boot and stalked out of my room. I blinked at the doorway, frozen in shock at what he’d said. I heard the outside door open, close and the lock turn. Then I came unstuck way too late, ran through the bedroom and living room, unlocked the door and rushed into the hall.

Tor was gone.

I ran to the stairwell and down the two flights of steps (too slowly, drat my high-heeled sandals), through the foyer and out the front doors of my building.

I looked down the sidewalks to my left then to my right.

And again, Tor was gone.

I stared at the slick sidewalk as the misty rain made my skin and hair damp. Then I raced back into the building, up the steps, into my apartment and I grabbed my purse.

Then I ran to the corner store and bought a pregnancy test.

Thirty minutes later, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly to stop them from shaking, I was in my car going back to the grocery store even though half of its goods were stuffed into the cupboards and fridge of my kitchen.

But we hadn’t bought the ingredients to red velvet cake.

And as crazy and uncertain as our worlds were, Tor and I had something to celebrate.

That was, if he came home.

I was curled up in my pink chair, the purple throw tucked around me, dozing when I heard the key scrape the lock.

My eyes opened, I sat up, putting my feet to the floor, my heart sliding up into my throat when I heard and saw the doorknob turn. I held my breath, my mind trying to recall one of the ways I came up with while making the cake as to how to apologize to Tor when the doorknob turned again.

I tipped my head to the side, staring at it and then heard the key in the lock again.

Uh-oh. Tor’s new lock wasn’t working.

Then I jumped when I heard a banging at the door.

“Cory, babe, open the door!”

Oh crap. It wasn’t Tor. It was Noc.

I froze.

There was more banging and then, “Cora! I see the light coming through the bottom of the door. I know you’re awake. Open up!”

My eyes flew to my DVD player and I saw it was nearly two in the morning. What was he doing there at two in the morning?

“Cora! Fuck me, babe, open the fuckin’ door!” he shouted then more banging.

I stared at the door, my body unmoving.

He was a big guy, just as powerfully built as Tor. My door was crap because my landlord was crap. He could bust down my door, easy.

Shit!

There was silence then he called through the door, “Right, locks changed. I get it. Ice cold.”

Oh shit.

“Do me a favor,” he went on. “Pack my shit in a suitcase and put it in the hall. I’ll be back tomorrow to get it.”

Then there was one, loud thump on the door and then nothing.

I held my breath. When I was about to pass out, I sucked in a deep breath and held that. When I heard nothing, I threw off the blanket, tiptoed (focused on the tasks at hand, I still hadn’t taken off my sandals) to my purse and pulled out my cell.

Tomorrow, should Tor come back (and, God, I hoped he came back), we were going straight back to the mall and getting him a blasted cell phone.

I looked at my phone and saw I had five missed calls while my phone was in my purse at my parents’ house, no voicemails. Checking the history, I saw that four were from Noc, one was from my friend Phoebe.

Phoebe. Holy crap!

It was too late to return Phoebe’s call so I flipped the phone shut, dropped it back in my purse, tiptoed to the kitchen, grabbed the biggest, sharpest knife I could find and I tiptoed back to my living room. I turned off the lamps then settled back in the chair, tossing my throw over me.

I stared at the door, my fingers curled around the handle of the knife and I waited for Noc to come back.

About a half an hour later, I fell asleep.