Curse of Night (Thorne Hill 5) - Page 159

“Are you still going to think I’m hot when I have a big belly?”

“I will always think you are hot.” He kisses me. “Always.”“I think I’m officially addicted,” I say, stepping into Abby’s foyer. I take my shoes off and set my purse on the ground. “That was my first facial, and it will not be my last. It’s probably a good thing there aren’t spas like that in Thorne Hill. I’d be there weekly.”

Abby laughs. “Is there anywhere close? Prenatal massages are everything once you hit those last few months. No one really prepares you for how sore you get. The movies show women waddling and talking about their backs hurting, but everything hurts, and the pressure on your cervix is real.”

I run my hand over my stomach. “I’m kind of excited to start showing. Lucas is, too.” I laugh. “He said he thinks I’ll look hot with a big belly.”

“You’re tall and in such good shape you might be one of those women who don’t show until you pass week twenty. Which is totally not fair, I say as someone who got asked if I was having twins.”

“Really?” I take my coat off. “I need to see pictures of this.”

“I have a whole album. I did a picture every week.”

“I didn’t even think of that. I’ll have to start.” We go into the kitchen to get something to eat. I started feeling really nauseous before we got our massages, and Abby gave me anti-nausea pills that helped take the edge off. It pays to have a doctor in the family.

“Where’s Penny?” I ask. The house is peacefully quiet.

“Phil took her to the Children’s Museum for a daddy-daughter day.”

“That’s sweet.” I gasp. “Fuck, Lucas will be able to do that someday.”

Abby smiles, but I know what she’s thinking: Lucas is a vampire. He’ll miss out on all daytime activities. He won’t. I’m going to find a way for him to day walk.

I pull my phone from my purse, checking for missed calls or texts since it’s been on silent since we got to the salon for our massages and facials. I’m trying to really relax the whole entire day, but my mind has drifted to the coven and how everyone is faring.

I have a missed call and a voicemail from Easton, which I’ll listen to later, and a text from Lucas telling me he loves me.

“Is it too soon for another Zofran?” I ask Abby.

“It wore off already?”

“Yeah.” I put my hand over my stomach. “I’m not used to feeling so human.”

She laughs. “You got about another hour until you can have another.”

“I can mange until then. Once things have settled down at the Covenstead, I’ll pester Tabatha into making that potion.”

“Crackers,” Abby says and opens her panty. “I lived on these.”

The doorbell rings, and Abby jumps up. “Oh, that’s probably Mrs. Jacobs with my honey.”

“Your honey?” I shove a cracker in my mouth.

“Her daughter is a bee keeper and is my supplier.”

“Ohhh, look at you with the secret hookup.”

“Be jealous.”

I laugh. “What that a bee pun?”

“Dammit, I totally missed that opportunity,” she laughs. “I’ll be right back.”

I eat another cracker and then get up to get some water. Abby said sparkling water helped settle her stomach when she was pregnant, so I grab a lime LaCroix from the fridge. I pop the top right as something falls to the ground at the front of the house.

“Abby?” I ask and take a drink and hear a voice. A male voice. That doesn’t sound like Mrs. Jacobs with a mason jar full of organic honey. I set the can on the counter and go through the kitchen into the foyer. The front door is closed, and Abby is standing still, holding her hands up in front of her. “What’s—”

I cut off when Roger—the hunter who was hired to kill me—comes into view. He’s holding a gun, and it’s pointed at Abby.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I huff. “It’s my day off.”

“I should have known it was you,” he says, words slurring a bit. Great. He’s drunk. “You…you drugged me.”

“It was a truth potion and you tried to kill me.” I slowly raise my hand.

“Don’t move!” he yells and thrusts the gun forward, pointing it right at my head. His finger slips, and he pulls the trigger. Without even having to think about it, I react, throwing up a telekinetic shield and stopping the bullet from ripping through my skull.

I flick my wrist, pulling the gun from Roger’s hands. It clatters to the ground, and I shake my head, pissed the fuck off.

“Cal…” Abby stammers, hands going to her stomach. Blood pools around her fingers, and she staggers forward, falling into her entryway table as she slumps to the floor.

Everything happens in slow motion. A white ginger jar full of faux cherry blossoms rattles loose off the table and crashes to the floor, breaking into a hundred little pieces. Blood spatters the gray wall and soaks through Abby’s pale pink shirt.

Tags: Emily Goodwin Thorne Hill Fantasy
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