Prince of Air and Darkness (27 page)

She was dimly aware that Hunter had followed her out to the living room, but she didn’t look back as she yanked the door open.

“I love you.”

Hunter’s voice followed her, but the words didn’t even slow her down as she slammed the door behind her and ran down the stairs with tears now pouring freely down her cheeks.

Chapter 14

Hunter removed the remains of the ruined condom, flinging it violently away from him as his knees gave out. He landed heavily on his butt, sitting naked and stunned in the middle of his living room.

He remembered Bane handling the bag of condoms, remembered the goblin suggesting he use ones that had been spelled to break when Kiera was fertile. Bane had brought him the spelled condoms the next day, but Hunter had thrown them away, just to be sure he didn’t accidentally use one. He might have thought that tonight’s condom really did break because he’d been too vigorous, but every instinct told him that wasn’t the case.

No, Bane had somehow tampered with the ones he’d taken from Hunter. That was why the damned goblin had played keep-away with them, why he’d acted like he didn’t think Hunter needed them. It had all been a ruse. Had Bane tampered with the condoms just as extra insurance, or had he already guessed that Hunter was growing attached?

Damn Bane, damn the Queen, and damn him right along with them! He should have told Kiera the story he and her mother had devised the moment he first saw her tonight. If he’d done that, he’d be dead by now, but Kiera would be safe, or at least as safe as he could make her. But he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of going to his death without making love to her one more time, and now they were both paying the price.

The condoms had been spelled to break if Kiera was fertile. Which meant she very likely was now pregnant. But she wouldn’t let him near her to try to protect her and the baby. Not to mention that he probably didn’t have the means to protect either of them effectively. It wasn’t as though he’d been capable of protecting even himself.

Was it hopeless? Was there no way he could save Kiera and their child from the evil of the Unseelie Court?

Despair weighed heavily on his shoulders, and he hadn’t the strength to rise from the floor. He’d never felt so helpless before, not even as a seven-year-old child watching his father’s execution. At least then, he’d been secure in the knowledge that there was nothing he could do. Now his soul screamed that there
had
to be something he could do.

But Hunter was powerless to undo the damage he had already done . . . as long as the Queen lived. It was through her flesh and blood that the child would be tied to the Unseelie Court. If she were to die, then she’d come back to life in a new body—a body to which Hunter would no longer be related by blood.

It was a crazy thought. Hunter was a good fighter, but the Queen was an enemy beyond him. She was guarded by goblins at all times, and Hunter doubted she could be killed by anything but iron. His chances of getting near her with an iron weapon were slim, to say the least, but he had to at least try.

He was dooming himself to a slow and painful death whether he succeeded or failed. The idea had lost its power to terrify him. He’d already accepted the necessity of his death. He would gladly accept the pain as well, as long as it gave Kiera and their child a chance.

If he failed, though . . . If he failed, he had to give Kiera the best possible chance to save herself and their child. If Finvarra knew his daughter was pregnant by the son of the Queen of Air and Darkness, then whether he cared about his offspring or not, he would move heaven and earth to keep the child out of the Queen’s clutches. Life as a pawn in Finvarra’s court wasn’t what Hunter would wish for his child, but it was far better than growing up in the Unseelie Court.

Somehow, Hunter had to convince Kiera to go to her father for help if he failed. She was far too wounded and angry to let him in her apartment or answer her phone or even read a letter that he passed her. He needed a messenger. He briefly considered calling Cathy, but her maternal fury was more than he was willing to face. She and Conan might hunt him down and kill him before he escaped to Faerie, for they were no more likely to believe his innocence than Kiera.

Then he remembered the flighty Jackson James, who had started all the present madness with his hopelessly romantic matchmaking. His heart aching, but his resolve firm, Hunter dragged himself up from the floor.

****

Kiera’s eyes were swollen from crying. She bent over her bathroom sink and splashed a handful of water on her face. The water’s cold bite helped drag her from the heartsick stupor she’d been in ever since she’d left Hunter’s apartment.

Hunter’s betrayal hurt in every pore. How could she have allowed herself to trust him after she knew the truth about him? What an utter fool she had been! She probably
deserved
the pain she was in, just for being so stupid.

Into that fog of pain intruded a memory—Hunter’s soft, despairing voice whispering
I love you
as she fled.

She didn’t believe it, of course. He wouldn’t have betrayed her like that if he loved her. And it was impossible to believe that the breaking of the condom had been an accident, not under the circumstances. Still, there was some small, desperate part of her that wanted to believe it had been, wanted to believe that under his Unseelie facade lay a good man with a good heart.

The doorbell rang. Kiera stepped out of the bathroom and stared at her front door. It had to be Hunter, coming to try to explain his way out of everything now that she’d had some time to calm down. She wasn’t about to give him the opportunity.

The doorbell rang again, and was shortly followed by Jackson’s voice. “Kiera, I know you’re in there,” he said. “Let me in.”

She shook her head in confusion, frowning at her watch. It was almost midnight. What the hell was Jackson doing here at this hour? In theory, she could use a shoulder to cry on, but she wasn’t sure she could stand to see her oldest friend just now. It was because of
him
that she’d fallen into Hunter’s bed in the first place.

Kiera shook that unworthy thought out of her mind. It was no one’s fault but her own that she’d ignored all logic and let Hunter in past her emotional guards.

She still didn’t much want to see Jackson until the wound in her heart was a little less raw, but she knew better than to think he’d go away if she ignored him. She swung the door cautiously open just as Jackson was reaching for the doorbell again. He let his hand drop back to his side when he saw her.

“What are you doing here, Jackson?” she asked in a tear-ravaged voice.

“May I come in?”

She would have said no, would have told him now wasn’t a good time, if she weren’t so sure he knew that already.
How
he knew, she couldn’t say. Her shoulders slumping in defeat, she stepped out of the doorway to let him in. He stepped inside, then pushed the door closed and suddenly enveloped her in a hug.

Tears stinging once again in her eyes, she clung to him, absurdly grateful for his warm and comforting presence. For a long moment she remained in his embrace, trying not to think at all. Then he gently released her and guided her toward her bedroom. She was too numb and dispirited to ask him again what he was doing here.

Once in her bedroom, Jackson bade her sit on her bed, and she obeyed without thought, leaning her back against the wall and clutching a pillow tightly to her chest. Jackson disappeared into her closet and returned carrying a small suitcase, which he opened and laid on the bed beside her.

Everything still felt strangely unreal, but Kiera found her voice. “What are you doing?”

“I’m helping you pack a bag. You need to spend some time at your mother’s.”

She shook her head, the break from reality now worse. “What are you talking about? And what are you doing here?”

He pushed the suitcase aside and sat on the bed beside her, his eyes full of concern. “Hunter called me.” She winced at the sound of that name. “He told me what happened and asked me to get you to your mother’s house ASAP.”

She rubbed her face, amazed that after what had happened Hunter would have the gall to try this. “Absolutely not!” she declared. “Hunter does
not
get to order me around, not after what he did.”

“Well, here’s the thing, Kiera: he says you’re pregnant.”

The word was like a lightning bolt. Her hands clenched into sweaty fists and her heart leapt into her throat as she fixed Jackson with a disbelieving stare. “What?”

He looked sheepish and distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure how much of this I’m buying, if any, but I’m trying to keep an open mind, since I’ve told
you
to do that any number of times. Hunter says there was a spell on the condom, and it broke because you were fertile.” His cheeks turned slightly pink, and Kiera thought that at any other time she would have teased him for his embarrassment. “He says you have to get to your mother’s house and put yourself under her protection before anyone but him knows, or you’re likely to be abducted by goblins.”

She groaned and closed her eyes. God, it was even worse than she’d thought. And after his pathetic attempts to persuade her of his innocence, here he was coming right out and admitting his guilt by telling her about the spell on the condom. The bastard! She tried to summon some righteous anger, for maybe anger would give her the strength she needed to face this horrible night. But the anger wouldn’t come, the despair so strong no other emotion could take root.

“Let’s pack you an overnight bag,” Jackson said, standing up once more. “Whatever’s really going on, you’re obviously in pain, and I think you’re best off going to your mother’s house.”

She would have argued, but somehow it seemed like that would take too much energy. Besides, she seriously doubted she had the strength of will to win an argument with Jackson in her present state of mind. Since packing a bag and going to her mom’s seemed like the path of least resistance, she mutely rose from the bed and started grabbing clothes at random from her dresser drawers.

****

Kiera hadn’t said a word during the brief cab ride from her apartment to her mother’s house. Jackson hadn’t complained. He merely sat there and held her hand tightly, offering his silent support, for which she was so grateful she couldn’t express it in words. He could have just dropped her off and then taken the taxi back to his own apartment, but he paid the driver and accompanied her to her mother’s door, still holding her hand.

“I can take it from here, Jackson,” she tried, surprised to find she still had a voice.

“I’m not leaving until I’ve seen you safely delivered into your mother’s hands,” he said, reaching out to ring the doorbell.

It took a while for her mother to come to the door. The house had been completely dark when the cab had pulled up, which meant her mother had been asleep already. Maybe Kiera should have waited until morning to come over. She slanted a glance at Jackson, and decided she’d never had a choice in the matter.

When her mother opened the door, she was wearing a white terrycloth robe, and her skin was almost a perfect match for its color.

“Kiera, honey, what’s wrong?” she cried.

A big, nasty lump had formed in Kiera’s throat and she couldn’t force out any words. Jackson nudged her shoulder, and she flung herself into her mother’s arms.

“What is it?” her mother asked, sounding even more desperate.

“Hunter claims to have gotten her pregnant,” Jackson answered for her.

Kiera’s mother gripped her shoulders and pushed her away to look into her face. Kiera fought the tide of tears, knowing she wouldn’t be able to speak a coherent sentence until she somehow regained control of herself. The look of stricken compassion in her mother’s eyes nearly set her off again.

Still struggling with the tears, Kiera hardly noticed being guided into her mother’s living room, or sitting on the sofa with Jackson beside her, or Phantom leaping up on the sofa on her other side and putting his head in her lap.

Taking slow, deep breaths, she absently scratched behind the dog’s ears as her mother disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a cup of tea. Kiera took a sip, yearning for some warmth to thaw the ice that had formed in her chest and belly. Phantom sighed dramatically now that she was no longer scratching his ears, and that sound wrenched a part of her mind back into reality. She blinked and looked down at him, remembering that the head in her lap wasn’t really a dog’s.

“So,” Jackson said, “that’s the, uh, phooka, right?”

Kiera’s mother gave her a reproving look and another piece of her self seemed to snap back into place. “Jackson knows everything,” she said, then looked at Phantom once more. “Will you cut the lovable pooch act?”

He sat up on the couch and gave her a doggie grin, though when she noted the expression in his eyes, she wondered how she could ever have mistaken him for a real dog. Kiera put her tea down and met Phantom’s intelligent gaze.

“Any chance you can prove to Jackson that I haven’t gone entirely insane? He’s being awfully understanding about things, but I know he must have doubts.”

Phantom raised one eyebrow—something she couldn’t ever remember seeing a dog do before—then turned a questioning gaze to her mother, who shrugged.

“I can’t think of any reason why you shouldn’t,” she said, then turned her own questioning glance on Jackson. “You’re not going to faint dead away or anything, are you?”

“I might,” he said cheerfully, looking a little wild-eyed. “But you can always revive me.”

His eyes suddenly widened even more, and Kiera turned to see Conan sitting beside her. The phooka’s gaze was kindly compassionate as he looked at her.

“Tell us what has happened,” he urged.

By the time Kiera had spit out the whole story—her cheeks burning, for it was distinctly uncomfortable to talk about her sex life with her mother and two men—the look in the phooka’s eyes was anything but kindly.

“He will die for this,” he said in a voice so cold it sent chills down her spine.