Edge of Twilight (29 page)

The only person who had ever looked at him with that much trust in her eyes had been his precious Bridget. And he'd let her down. Let Stiles cut her throat. Let her die. He was terrified of having someone so precious—even more precious—depending on him again. God help him, he'd better come through this time.

“Thank you, Edge,” Amber whispered. “Thank you.” Her eyes fell closed again, much needed sleep stealing over her. Her body relaxed beneath the covers, and her breaths became deep and rhythmic.

“No, Alby,” Edge whispered. “Thank
you.
”

He slid his hands from beneath hers, heaved a sigh, and turned toward the door, only to see Tamara standing there, a china tea cup balanced on a saucer in her hands, tears dampening her cheeks.

 

When Amber opened her eyes again, the sun was shining in through the bedroom window, and Alicia was sitting in a chair beside her bed.

Frowning, she blinked her friend into focus. “How did you manage…?”

“Edge called me last night. Said he didn't want you alone while everyone was at rest. Your father chartered a flight for me, so I could get here by sunrise.”

Amber sighed. “How is Willem doing? Did they give him the Ambrosia-Six?”

“As soon as we got back with it.” She shrugged. “Sarafina thought he looked better.”

“But what did you think?”

Alicia averted her eyes. “It's really too soon to tell.”

She didn't think the formula had worked. Amber knew Alicia too well not to read her face. “Even if it did work,” Amber said, “it's not a permanent fix. A few months, at most, and then—”

“Stop it. If it worked, that's a good thing. Let's not start borrowing trouble or worrying about what happens next. God, you've got enough to worry about.” Her eyes wandered down the bedcovers, to the bulge of Amber's belly.

“Did Eric make any progress last night?”

Alicia averted her eyes. “Edge says I'm to keep you from focusing on anything negative.”

“Are you
his
best friend or mine?”

“Amber…”

“Tell me. I need to know what's going on, ‘Leesh.”

Alicia's lips thinned, but she answered. “They can't duplicate the formula with your blood. Ambrosia-Seven was apparently a whole lot different than Ambrosia-Six, and maybe not in a good way. Eric says your blood is different now. He thinks maybe after the pregnancy it will change again, but there's no way to be sure.”

Amber closed her eyes.

“He managed to run his tests without destroying the sample you brought him, though,” Alicia said quickly. “That means we can give the second part of that to Will.”

“That one tiny vial. That's all that's left. And there might never be more.”

“Then again, there might be. God, Amber, when did you turn into such a pessimist?”

Amber sighed. Her stomach rumbled so loudly it made Alicia smile.

“Hungry?”

“Famished. It seems to be a constant state.” She frowned, sitting up in the bed and pushing back the covers. “At least I'm not throwing up anymore.”

“No, I'd say you passed that stage already.” She nodded at Amber's belly as she said it.

Amber looked down, ran her hands over her middle. “I'm even bigger than I was last night. It's happening so fast, Alicia. God, I don't know what to think anymore.”

“Well, lucky for you, I'm here to tell you what to think. And right now, I want you to think about taking a shower, putting on some clean clothes and doing something with your hair. By the time you finish, I'll have whipped up the biggest breakfast I can think of.”

“Good luck finding food in this house.”

“Hey, come on, you think I came empty-handed? I
stopped at an all-night grocery on the way here from the airport. I like to eat, too, you know.”

Amber smiled and clasped her friend's hand. “You're too good to me.”

“Well, I'm gonna be an auntie. I have to be worthy.” She squeezed Amber's hand, then turned toward the door. She paused there. “Tam left some of Eric's clothes in the closet for you. And…Edge said to tell you he had them move Stiles.”

“To where?” Amber asked.

Alicia shrugged. “He wouldn't say. Only that it was someplace you won't be able to find him.” She sighed. “I was kinda disappointed. I'd have liked a crack at that scar-faced bastard myself.”

“You're turning into a regular warrior woman, you know that?”

“I'm turning into a lot of things. Change is good. Now go on, go take that shower.”

Amber did as Alicia suggested. But as she stood beneath the shower spray, she found herself amazed at the new shape of her body. She would have stood naked in front of a mirror, had there been one in the house. She ran her hands over her belly, and as she did, something jabbed upward.

Amber went still, keeping her hand where it was. The baby kicked again, and she smiled, then laughed out loud. “Hey, in there. Guess you're awake, huh?”

She wondered if that meant anything. The baby being awake and active during the daylight hours. God, so many questions. How had her own mother ever managed to get through the uncertainty, the worry?

She got dressed, pulling on her own jeans but leaving them unbuttoned and unzipped, the fly folded inward. She wore one of Eric's white button down shirts and her
own bra, though she had to loosen the straps. She and Alicia shared a tower of pancakes, a luscious omelet and a pot of coffee, and then Amber fetched the packages from the trunk of the car and showed Alicia all the baby things she'd bought. They talked all day, and Alicia rubbed lotion on Amber's swollen belly to ease the rapid stretching of her skin, which was beginning to burn and itch.

By sundown, she was feeling a bit more optimistic—no doubt thanks to Alicia's constant positive conversation, on top of Edge's promises of the night before. She believed in him, in spite of herself. Maybe…somehow, everything really would be all right. Maybe Edge could somehow get the truth out of Stiles, and Eric could use it to solve the mystery of her blood.

Maybe.

She sighed, looking up from her comfy seat in the living room when Edge came in, moments after dusk. He stopped in the doorway, met her eyes across the room. It hit her then that she was doing what he wanted her to do. Trusting him, believing in him. Depending on him. It was something she'd never intended to do, and something that frightened her. She liked being in control, taking care of herself, needing no one. This…this was different.

She was completely in love with him. And that scared her even more.

E
dge took Amber by the hand and led her out the house's back door. The lawn there was fenced in, and sported an antique lawn swing and a wide-open view of the stars.

He sat down on the swing, and she sat beside him. He slid an arm around her shoulders, drew her close. “Beautiful night,” he said.

Amber looked up at him. “It is.”

“You're hurting, though.”

She started to deny it, but the knowing look he sent her made her realize he wasn't buying it. “How do you know?”

“I feel you. More and more, it seems. What hurts, Alby?”

“My back, mostly.”

He drew her down until she was lying across his lap, then ran his hand over her back, exerting gentle pressure, rubbing in small circles. “Wish I could make it better.”

“You are,” she told him, closing her eyes. “Just by being here, you are.”

“That's a relief.”

“It won't be long, Edge,” she said. “At this rate, this child could be born at any time, and I…”

“You're scared to death.”

She nodded.

“I'll make it all right.”

“Do you really believe you can?” she asked, relaxing a little more.

“I have to believe it. I can't accept the alternative. But whether I believe isn't important. The question is, do you?”

Amber opened her eyes and stared up into his face. “It seems a little insane, but I do.”

He nodded, pleased, she thought, by her answer. “Then hold on to that.”

“I'll try.”

Edge bent over her, pressed his lips to hers, kissed her slowly, tenderly. “You do that,” he said.

Amber heard the back door open, sensed others coming out into the yard. She sat up, self-conscious, saw Tamara on her way across the lawn.

“I'm going to go check on Eric's progress,” Edge said. “Relax out here a while. Enjoy the night.”

“All right.” She was confused, wondering at his tenderness, the look in his eyes. Wondering what it might mean and trying not to let herself hope…

Edge rose from the swing, nodding to Tamara on his way back into the house. Amber watched him go, tears welling in her eyes. God, why did he have to be so wonderful? It made her hope for things she'd already decided could never be.

Or could they?

 

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Edge asked the question after walking into the lab to find Eric bent over a microscope, peering into its lenses. Eric straightened, rubbed his eyes. “With everything else
running at such an accelerated pace, I don't dare slow down.” He removed one slide from the microscope, inserted another. “How is Amber?”

“Terrified. Pretending not to be, for the sake of everyone else.”

“And Stiles?”

“Still in that attic bedroom, still aging. I don't see much change.” Eric nodded at the dark glass vials that stood in a little rack near Eric. “Is one of those the Ambrosia-Six?”

“No, those are all fresh samples from Amber Lily. This one's a duplication of the serum Stiles called Ambrosia-Seven.”

“But it's useless.”

“For our purposes, yes,” Eric said. “I packed the A-Six in foam, put it in the cooler. It'll be safe there until someone takes it back to Willem.”

“Good thinking. We wouldn't want anything to happen to it,” Edge said, looking at the fridge in the corner of the lab.

“No. Though, from what Alicia's told me, I don't think he's going to survive long without it. The first treatment doesn't seem to be doing a lot of good.”

Edge lowered his head, swallowed his guilt, kept his thoughts sealed within his own mind. “You should probably go take a look at Stiles,” he said slowly.

Eric was already back to peering through the microscope, but he straightened then. “I thought you said there was no apparent change?”

“No, not apparent to me. But the aging is progressing. I can't make a guess at how much time he has left. I was hoping you might be able to. After all, we have to find some way to make him talk before he expires, taking all his secrets with him.”

Eric nodded thoughtfully. “You're right about that.” He peeled off the latex gloves he was wearing and started for the door. “All right. I'll look in on him.” He headed for the door, and Edge followed him out of the lab. When they went through the hallway, into the large sitting area, Eric frowned. “Where is everyone?”

“Outside. It's a beautiful night, Eric. Very warm for so early in the year. Amber's expecting her parents and Rhiannon to arrive soon.”

“It's good that her parents will be here for her.”

“Yes, it'll do her good to have her mother with her,” Edge said. “I think I'll go on out and join them.”

Eric nodded, and continued across the room and up the stairs. As soon as he was out of sight, Edge turned and hurried back up the hallway and into the lab. He went to the mini-fridge, opened it, pried the flat square of foam off the top of the foam box and reached inside. The vial was there, nestled in bubble-wrap. He took it out, removed it from the wrappings. Then he found an empty vial to replace it and put everything back, just as he'd found it.

No one would ever know. At least not until the box was opened again. And then Amber would probably hate him for this. Hell, they would all hate him. What surprised him most was that he actually cared.

The others might forgive him in time, if his plan worked. If it didn't, they never would. But Amber—Amber would never forgive him, even if he succeeded. He closed his eyes, held the vial of precious fluid in his fist. It didn't matter if she hated him. He had to do this. For her. And for his son. But God, how he wished there were some other way.

 

Amber rocked slowly in the cushioned seat of the antique lawn swing, Tamara swinging beside her. The stars
above her twinkled as brightly as if all was right with the world. As if her baby's life wasn't hanging in the balance, while Willem's waned to nothing. Alicia hadn't been honest with her about Will's condition. She'd tried to sugarcoat it. But Amber knew. She felt it in her soul. Willem was fading.

“It's a beautiful night,” Eric said, stepping out onto the lawn to join her there. He looked around.

“Alicia's gone to the kitchen to make some dinner for the two of us,” Amber told him. “Donovan and Dante decided to walk the perimeter. Make sure no one's lurking about the place.”

He nodded. “Not a bad idea. Stiles still has a lot of associates. Roland?”

“I think he's off somewhere waiting for Rhiannon. He misses her terribly,” Tamara said softly.

Eric met her eyes, and a silent exchange passed between them. Amber lowered her own eyes and pretended not to notice, but it did make her ache a little for the object of her own ill-advised affection.

“Where is Edge?” she asked, wondering why he wasn't still with Eric.

“He's not out here with you?”

“No. Last I knew he was going to the lab to check on your progress.”

“That's odd,” Eric said. “He told me he was coming out to join you.”

Amber's heart skipped. Edge had told her he would take care of everything, that he would find a way to make Stiles talk before he died. What if…?

Tamara met her eyes, read her thoughts there. “He wouldn't harm Stiles. He's completely set aside his desire for vengeance, Amber.”

She licked her lips. “I know that. But still…” She got
to her feet, belly first. It had swollen even larger during the course of the night. “Tell me where you're keeping Stiles, Eric. I have to make sure.”

“We'll come with you,” Tamara said, rising as well, and taking Amber's arm as if she needed help.

Together they went back into the house, up the stairs and all the way down the ornate hall to the very end. Eric opened a door there, onto another staircase, this one old, looking seldom used. He led the way up these stairs and through yet another door at the top, into the giant house's attic.

“You hid him up here?”

“Edge said to get him our of your reach,” Eric said as he led them across a plank floor. “Though I found it pretty odd that he'd have any desire to protect him.”

“He wasn't protecting Stiles. He was protecting Amber,” Tam said.

Amber sniffed. “Stiles is in no condition to be any threat to me.”

“Not physically, no.” Tamara squeezed her arm. “But emotionally. Amber, if you lost control, if you took his life, I'm not sure you'd ever get over it. Not you. You're not a killer. You have a gentle soul, despite your tough exterior. Edge has seen it. He knows.”

Amber thinned her lips and kept her eyes forward as she picked her way through the attic, over dust bunnies and stacked boxes, through a door at one end, where a bedroom had been set up. Bed, nightstand and lamp. A peaked wall, with a window in it. Not much more. The covers on the bed were rumpled, but no one was in it. And the window was open.

Eric stared for a moment, then turned to face the two of them. “Stiles is gone.”

“And so is Edge.” The voice came from behind, and
Amber turned to see Roland standing there. “I found Stiles gone moments ago, and I've searched the place for Edge. He's not here.”

Amber had to grab the foot of the bed to keep herself upright.

Eric lowered a hand onto her shoulder. “I know, Amber. I know it's disappointing. God, I was so certain he'd put his need for vengeance aside for your sake, but—”

“That's not what this is,” she blurted.

Everyone stared at her, no one speaking. But she knew what they were thinking. That she was one of those pathetic women who fell in love and then went blind. Who refused to see the faults that glared at everyone else like neon. And for a moment she wondered if it was true.

“Amber, dear child,” Roland said gently, “I know it's difficult to accept that someone you care about might not have your best interests at heart, but—”

“If Edge took Stiles, he took him to try to get the truth out of him. Not to kill him. He wouldn't.”

The men looked at each other. Tamara slid an arm around her. “She's right. The man wouldn't abandon her. Not now.”

“Tam, it might be best not to nurture false hope,” Eric began.

“Oh, for God's sake! Listen to you. I know a man in love when I see one, and that man is completely out of his mind in love with Amber.”

Amber shot her eyes to Tam's.

“Come on, dear. You're pale as wraith. You need to lie down.”

“I need to eat,” she said.

“You two get going. Go fetch Dante and Donovan, and then all of you go out and try to find Edge,” Tam said.

The two men left in a hurry. Tam and Amber followed
more slowly, and when the men were out of sight, Amber said, “He's not, you know.”

“Not what?”

“In love with me. Edge is a free spirit. A loner. He's not a romantic, not the kind who falls in love.”

Tam smiled at her. “Is that what you think?”

“It's what I know.”

“And you think you know him pretty well?”

“Inside and out,” she said. “Sometimes it's like we're inside each other's minds. I understand him.”

“I can see that.”

“And I know he's not in love. But I also know he wouldn't have made the promises he made to me if he were going to break them at the first opportunity. He's up to something, Tam. He must think he knows a way to get Stiles to talk.”

Tam nodded. “Keep on believing in him, Amber. No matter what the others may say. You know him best.”

“I do.”

They reached the ground floor, and Tam led her to the sofa in the large sitting room, the one near the gas fireplace. Amber let herself be coddled, feeling fragile, drained and overly emotional. She leaned against the pillow-padded arm and drew her legs up beside her. “He'll come back, Tam,” she whispered. “I know he will.”

Tam nodded. “You hold on to that.”

She tried. But it wasn't easy. The night wore on, and the men returned from searching having found no sign of Edge or Stiles. They made less and less effort to conceal their anger. When Amber's parents and Rhiannon arrived, with Morgan in tow, Amber was beside herself, worrying they, too, would jump to the wrong conclusions and believe the worst about Edge.

That worry faded slightly, though, with her surprise
when Sarafina and Willem came in through the entryway behind them. Will was ashen, bent over, dragging his feet and leaning heavily on his walking stick, one arm slung around ‘Fina's shoulders.

Amber came off the sofa in her shock at his appearance. How could he have worsened so drastically in such a short time?

She rushed toward him, only to stop short at the shocked look on his face. And then she realized he wasn't the only one looking at her that way. Her parents seemed stunned, and Rhiannon gaped at her. “My God,” she said. “This is even worse than we imagined.”

“Oh, it gets better,” Eric called. “Jameson, join us in the library, won't you? We need a word.”

Jameson lifted his brows, then nodded. “I'll be back, honey.”

“Dad, wait.”

“Just…give me a minute.”

“I'm coming, too,” Rhiannon said, and the two of them strode off to the library, following Eric. Donovan, Dante and Roland were already in there.

“It's as if they think I'm already dead,” Will said, his voice weak, hoarse, but laced with humor. “How are you, Amber Lily?” He held out his arms, though Sarafina kept one of hers anchored around his waist.

Amber moved into them, hugging him gently. “You look like hell,” she said.

“And you look like you swallowed a beach ball.”

She backed away, smiling at him.

“Well, I'll be damned if I'll be left out of the deep dark meeting in the next room. Think you can get me that far, my love?” Will asked.

Sarafina smiled up at him. “Not until we get what we
came for, darling.” She looked to Tamara. “The second dose?”