Binx and Freya are both on my pillow, and Pandora is on the opposite side of the bed, lying between Lucas’s feet. The three familiars take up enough space on their own, and when you add Scarlet in her Irish Wolfhound form, this king-sized bed isn’t big enough for all of us.
Reaching over Scarlet, I grab my phone and mindlessly scroll through social media. I’ve never been big on posting on my personal page, and I gave up my own Instagram account years ago to run Novel Grounds’ instead. I’ve been seriously slacking on it for months now, and really need to officially pass it onto Betty, who is much more devoted to it than I am.
I posted a photo of us all gathered around the dining room table last night, and it’s gotten a lot of likes. I’m positive Scott saw it and has to be fuming to see Abby’s happy face. I added several more photos and video clips to the Instagram stories, and there are over a dozen replies to a photo of Lucas sitting with Penny on his lap, mostly from women replying with a fire emoji or telling me straight out how hot it is to see a good-looking man like Lucas with a baby in his arms.
I set my phone down when my eyes start to feel heavy and, thanks to Scarlet, am warmed up in no time. I fall back asleep, not waking for another few hours. This time when I sit up, I’m alone in bed and there’s another fire burning in the fireplace. Sitting up, I tap the screen of my phone to see what time it is.
I have a text from Easton, and I pick up the phone and get out of bed, assuming he’s going to say something about last night, thanking me for inviting them or something like that. I’m not expecting to see call me when you can on my screen. The text was sent at eight AM, which is early for me and early for him as well, especially since they didn’t leave until after nine last night and had to drive all the way back to Chicago.
I swing my feet over the side of the bed and pad my way into the bathroom. My morning sickness potion is in my medicine cabinet, along with the prenatal vitamins I started taking a few weeks ago. With me not being human, I have no idea if I’m even taking the right amount for my body, but it’s better than nothing, right?
I use the toilet, add a few drops of the potion to a glass of water, and take it back into the bedroom, sitting on one of the chairs by the fireplace. I call Easton, and the call goes right to his voicemail.
“Hey, I just saw your text. I’ll keep my phone by me, so call when you can. Hope you’re okay.”
I end the call, get dressed in black leggings and an off-the-shoulder, oversized gray sweater, and go downstairs, passing by one of the guest rooms on the way. The door is closed, and Eliza is asleep. She keeps typical vampire hours, staying awake all night and going to sleep once the sun comes up.
The rest of the house is quiet, and the floorboards creak under my feet as I go down the back staircase. The kitchen is spotless, and either Lucas, Eliza, or even Julian finished cleaning after I went to bed. I open the fridge and pull out leftovers from last night and heat up a plate of food.
“Good morning,” Lucas says, coming into the kitchen. He’s wearing blue checkered pajama pants and nothing else, and his hair is still messy from bed. “I thought you’d sleep in longer. You were restless last night.”
“I didn’t mean to keep you up.”
“I ate last night,” he reminds me, speaking of the bagged blood Eliza brought. “I don’t need much sleep. You, on the other hand, do.”
“I got a weird text message from Easton,” I tell him and open the microwave when the timer gets down to one second, stopping it right before it beeps. “All it said was to call him, and I did and got his voicemail.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Lucas deadpans.
“Yeah, I think so too. Melinda would have tried to call if something was really wrong.” I set my plate on the counter and go around to get a fork. “You know me, though. I start thinking about what could go wrong and then I can’t shut off my brain.”
“Tell him not to contact you between the hours of nine PM and nine AM.”
“I’m usually awake then anyway.”
“True, so tell him not to contact you at all.”
I look up at Lucas, raising an eyebrow. “You still don’t like him, do you?”
“I tolerate him and stand by what I’ve said before: you are too forgiving, Callie.”