“Fuck, Abby. I’m being a dick.” I walked over to her, put my finger under her chin, and tilted her head up so I could see her eyes. “Abby, shit, I’m sorry. But this is bad. You don’t want that life. I don’t think vampires want that life.”
She stepped away from me and walked over to the portrait Danni painted of Balen and stood in front of it. “I heard about him. Balen. He drank from a vampire and fought off the poison. He didn’t Transition.”
“That’s why you’re here,” I said more to myself than to her.
She nodded.
Could she fight it like Balen had? Was it possible? It had taken years for Balen to get rid of the vampire blood in him, and it had nearly driven him crazy. “I don’t know. It was one Scar, Abby. Since the beginning of our existence, we’ve had one Scar try this after consuming vampire blood. And you’re a witch, not an ancient like Balen or immortal. Fighting the cravings for blood can take years.”
She spun on her heels and faced me. “But I won’t become a vampire if I can fight it, right?”
“Not if you can survive it. But that’s unlikely.”
“But we could try?”
I walked over to her and put my hands on her shoulders. “Sugar, it’s not going to work. You’re what, a twenty-year-old witch. It’ll be impossible to fight century-old vampire blood. You’ll either die or turn.”
Her eyes hardened. “I’m stronger than you think.”
Fuck. What the hell was I supposed to do here? She’d turn into a vampire and become Liam’s slave. I didn’t like it, but that was the reality.
“Can we try? Please. I need to try. I can’t become a vampire. Not now.”
Was there any time you’d want to become a blood-sucker? “We’d have to find an isolated place for you to hide and someone to stay with you while you go through it.”
Her shoulders straightened. “I have to do this,” she said.
I took out my cell and tapped on the screen. “I’ll call Waler—”
She snatched the phone from my hand. “No. You can’t call him. If Waleron finds out, he’ll be obligated to tell Trinity. Then she’ll inform Mariana, which will lead to the Wraiths.” Yeah, that was exactly how it would go down. “Trinity can’t find out. She’ll kill me.”
Probably true. Her eyes averted from mine and she shifted her feet. Fuck. “What aren’t you telling me, Abby?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it, sugar.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Jesus Christ,” I shouted as I stomped over to the empty easel and kicked it. The pieces of wood gave to the pressure and collapsed to the floor.
“I didn’t know. I just did a test today.”
Holy mother of God, this had to be the worst possible scenario. Going through detox pregnant—so not going to work, and yet transitioning into a vampire pregnant would probably kill both mother and child. My head jerked up and I swung around to her. “Wait a sec. Vampires are incapable of—”
“I told you, I never slept with Liam, and I didn’t know when I had the drop of blood that I was pregnant.”
“Whose is it?”
She winced and I knew I wasn’t going to like what I was about to hear. “Damien’s.”
Damien? That’s impossible. She couldn’t be talking about the Scar Damien.
“He was here from—”
Shit, she was. “Florida. Yeah, I know.” Damien the Women-hater; Damien who I called the virgin king; Damien the arrogant-out-of-control crass Tracker Visionary who had already been sent to Rest for killing someone. Rumor was that it had been an accident, but I had my doubts. “He rape you?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God, no. Of course not. And he doesn’t know, okay? I don’t want him to either. It was a one-night thing two months ago and it meant nothing.”
I sighed, hand jerking through my hair. “Why the hell me? Why put this shit on me?”
“Delara,” she said quietly. “I met her a few times at the club, and she’s talked about you.” She paused. “And I really didn’t have anyone else to go to.”
“Why didn’t you tell Delara?”
Her nose scrunched again. “Liam is a vampire.” I shrugged. “Well, he can read thoughts. If I spoke to Delara and Liam read her—”
“—thoughts,” I finished. Delara would keep her shields up on her thoughts, but Abby was right. It would be risky. “Why the fuck did you drink his blood? He’s a vampire. You’re a witch. Those two shouldn’t even be in the same room together.”
Something didn’t make sense, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Why would Liam give a drunk witch a drop of his blood? What did he gain from that except pissing off the Scars and witches?
Stalking over to the sink, I grabbed the cloth and cleaned up the spilt beer before tossing the empty bottle under the counter into the recycling bin. “Abby, this is some serious shit. I need a few days to figure out how to play it.”
She nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll, ah, disappear for a while.”
“No. Not a while. You’ll crave blood soon, probably already are. Liam wants you at the club, in five days, right?” She nodded again. “Okay, I’m guessing he thinks your cravings will be strong enough by then that he can easily convince you to drink from him again. We don’t want him suspecting anything, so I need you to show up. In the meantime, I’ll contact a couple people, get things set up to hide you. But whatever you do, don’t fuckin’ drink any more blood. You do, this is over. You have no chance.”