Fated Souls (16 page)

When the door closed behind him, Maggie’s eyes tripped to Aidan’s.

“Shhh, Maggie. We’ve got plenty of time to worry; right now we need to sleep.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed before stripping her naked. Shedding his own clothes just as quickly, Aidan lay down beside her, pulled her into his arms, and tugged a light blanket over them both. Maggie trembled in his arms, and he murmured sweet, soothing nonsense as he ran his hands over her body, comforting her. She turned her face up toward him, resting her lips against his gently. She turned fully, so they lay face to face, their bodies lightly grazing, and she ran her hands down him, her touch sensual.

“Love me, Aidan,” she whispered, her hand cupping his cheek, her eyes scanning his face. He took her mouth with a quiet passion that made her long. Maggie slid her foot up the length of his leg before hooking it over his hip, inviting him closer. Aidan ran his hand down her body.

Maggie rolled onto her back, bringing Aidan with her. He braced his weight on his arms, his mouth still on hers, and with slow, practiced strokes they made love, each moaning the other’s name as they crested.

Details of the attack made the Salt Lake papers and the local eleven o’clock broadcast. Though the picture was too dark to see, the audio was shockingly perfect, and it quickly flooded the internet and email boxes everywhere. With the added attention the internet was bringing, a few national papers picked up the story from the Associated Press.

Noah sat in his office and listened, for the hundredth time, to the footage of Maggie being attacked. He knew he should be horrified at something happening to someone he was supposed to have cared for deeply, but instead he was excited by it. He didn’t want her dead — she’d be of no use to him then but he enjoyed hearing the fear in her voice as she screamed. She had always been so goddamn good at everything.

Noah had a dark side to his sexuality. He was careful to hide it from his mistresses and his wife, but the prostitutes he’d purchased over the years would’ve been able to attest to his cruelty. Lately he’d taken to picking up prostitutes that held a resemblance to Maggie. He’d also taken to beating them, trying to make them scream, beg and whimper like Maggie does on the audio file to which he’d become addicted.

He knew from the different accounts he’d read that she’d killed one — that must have torn her up — barely escaped another and that her lover was bitten multiple times in his attempt to rescue her. There was talk of a gray wolf that may or may not have protected Maggie on more than one occasion from animal and human predators, though Maggie and her lover denied it. He had researched the man; he knew which family he descended from and about the hushed up scandal surrounding his birth. But otherwise the man and his life were unremarkable, except for his link to Maggie.

Noah’s career had flopped after the initial glow faded from the article he’d “borrowed” from Maggie. He wanted to blame her rather than admit she was the better reporter; but his driving instinct was to capitalize on her talent. There was more to this story, he could feel it. She wouldn’t be wasting her time in Minnesota unless there was something big going on out there.

He picked up the phone and asked a junior assistant to find someone over at
The Inquisitor
who would appreciate making friends with a senior editor at The Hurley Group.

Immediately following the wolf attack, the town and the woods had been flooded with sightseers and hunters alike. Since Gealach was recovering from his injuries and staying close to home, there were no additional sightings or attacks. The hunting parties dwindled and then died out altogether after a few weeks. Life had returned to normal in Trappers’ Cove.

Aidan was working in the stable, enjoying Sly’s familiar tirade. Winter had come, they were harsh in Minnesota, and brought with it more chores. Sometimes, in seasons past, Aidan would hire on a day laborer to help out; sometimes he would pitch in himself. There was a certain comfort to be found in manual labor and good company. It was one of the few pleasures Aidan occasionally allowed himself. Of late it had become a convenient excuse to hide from the tension growing between him and Maggie. As though thinking about her had called her to him, she appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, Sly. Aidan, I’m going into Brandwyne. I’ll be back in a few hours.” Aidan passed his shovel to Sly and hurried after her.

“Hold on, beautiful, I’ll go with you. I can’t remember the last time I went to Brandwyne. Are we hitting the mall? I bet there’s a Victoria’s Secret in there.” Aidan waggled an eyebrow suggestively and was pleased to see a hint of her smile.

“Next time, baby. We’ll make a day of it.”

“Maggie?” He grabbed her arm lightly. “What’s going on?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment, Aidan, okay?”

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill?” He asked. Now that he thought about it she hadn’t been eating much lately. He worried and wished he didn’t.

“I’m feeling pregnant, Aidan. I have an appointment with an obstetrician, my first appointment, and unless you’re willing to discuss this rationally or accept the reality of the situation, I suggest you head back to your stable and the manure.”

He watched her stride away; watched as she climbed into his truck and drove away. He stood there staring until the truck disappeared. More than five weeks had passed since Maggie had told him she thought she might be pregnant and she hadn’t mentioned it since. He’d convinced himself she’d been mistaken. He hadn’t asked. He hadn’t wanted to know.

Maggie’s pregnant, he thought, his mind spinning. Didn’t she realize his child may be cursed too? The baby may not be human at all. The baby might be like him. It might hurt her. What if it turned while still in the womb? It could kill her before it was even born. He was so lost. Aidan turned and slowly walked back into the stable.

“Boss, one of the reasons I think you and I get along so well is I mind my own business. But I’m going to step over the line here and if you feel the need to fire me over it, so be it.” Sly set his pitchfork against the wall. “I wasn’t trying to but I heard that conversation you and Maggie just had.”

“You’re right, Sly. This isn’t any of your business.” Aidan turned to leave.

“And again, if you feel the need to fire me, go right ahead, but I’m going to say my piece and you’re going to listen.” The older man pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hands. “I don’t know much about your life before you came here. I don’t want to. What I need to know about you I got right here. You didn’t come in to town and ruin the Cherry Farm with some big ugly house. Your stables and horses are beautifully kept. So is your land. You don’t play at being a rancher. And you’re a fair boss. Until now I’d have said you were a good man. But a good man stands tall when his lover tells him she’s having his baby.”

“Maggie is one hell of a woman. Only a fool would let a woman like that get away. I never thought you a fool before either.”

Aidan looked back at Sly. “I should go after her shouldn’t I?”

“Oh for the love of … yes, go after her.” Sly tossed him his keys, “Take my truck.”

Aidan didn’t know what he’d say when he caught up to her but he knew that Sly was right, he should have done more than just stand there staring at her. Several miles outside of town he saw his truck parked on the shoulder of the road. Fear for Maggie’s wellbeing clutched at his insides and he pushed the accelerator, willing the ancient truck to go faster. He braked hard behind the pick-up, spraying industrial salt and grey slush across the blacktop. Aidan ran to the driver side door, wrenching it open, his heart in his throat.

“Maggie, are you okay?” he asked. Guilt swept through him, replacing the panic, as he took in her tear- ravaged face. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Aidan pulled her out of the truck and into his arms. He rubbed her back until the sobs subsided to sniffles. Maggie pulled back and asked, “Why did you come after me?”

“Honestly, Sly gave me a good proverbial kick in the ass. He looked like he was ready to give me an actual kick in the ass, to tell the truth. Maggie, you must realize why I’m hesitant.” She simply stared at him, forcing him to explain. “I’m a werewolf. What if this child isn’t … natural.”

“What do you think I have inside me, Aidan? A monster?”

His silence was answer enough.

“Aidan, this baby is ours. We made him together as a man and a woman. Two people who … care for each other. Gealach did not father this child. You did. What happens to you every night is the product of a curse; it is magic. It is not a birth defect, a genetic abnormality, a disease, or an infection. That’s how flaws are passed down from father to child, through DNA. Not through magic. Do you honestly believe it is more likely than not that you will pass on this curse to your offspring?”

“I don’t know, Maggie. I can’t know. And neither can you. Not until it’s too late. It could hurt you, or worse. And that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.” He explained.

“What would you have me do, Aidan? Are you going to stand here and tell me to abort our child?”

“Yes.” He watched as she absorbed his answer and as the pain he’d caused contorted her features. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; Aidan heard it waver and catch. When she opened her eyes again, her expression was shuttered but he could still see the raw hurt in her eyes, along with the anger. When she spoke, she did not waver.

“I love you with every beat of my heart. But I will give you up before I give up this child. Understand?” She left him standing there in the dirt streaked snow on the side of the road. And for the second time that day he stood watching as she drove out of sight; this time he didn’t follow. Aidan felt sick in his stomach. She had looked at him as though he’d physically struck her. Self-hatred consumed him.

Aidan got back in Sly’s truck and slowly turned toward home. He’d known she was going to want to keep the baby. But he thought that maybe she hadn’t considered all the possibilities. He should’ve known better; he knew her better than that. She said the child was conceived by them as man and woman that cared about each other.
She loved me with every beat of her heart.
That’s what she’d said. Maggie hadn’t said she loved him since the night she was attacked by those bastards that would’ve raped her. And even then she’d confided in Gealach, not him. Thinking of those men and that night brought his mother to mind.

He thought of his mom as the miles passed in a blur. She had given up everything to raise him by herself. Sacrificed her youth; a fortune that was rightfully hers, just to be his mother. He never heard her complain. She had made his childhood one of laughter and light. He never knew he was a product of violence. Aidan could only begin to imagine how terrified she must have been: nearly a child herself, pregnant, poor for the first time in her life, abandoned by her family.

An image of Tala flashed through his mind’s eye. He had thought of her over the years, how could he not when he turned into a wolf each night courtesy of her mother’s wrath, but he hadn’t actually pictured Tala in more years than he cared to count. He couldn’t be sure if the picture he formed was true to her or not, it had been so long. But all he felt was sadness for the life she lost and responsibility for his part in it. They’d been barely out of childhood themselves; and each had paid for their foolishness with their future. But Tala had been the one pregnant, scared and alone facing a man she’d thought a friend as he came at her with violent, deadly rage.

After leaving Sly’s truck outside the stable, Aidan let himself into the house Maggie had been slowly turning into a home and went straight to his bedroom closet where he retrieved a small metal lockbox from the top shelf. Setting it on the bed, he opened it slowly and delicately removed the few items stored on top: his birth certificate, his mother’s death certificate, the news clipping from Tala’s death, the deed to the Cherry Farm, and his will leaving his entire estate — sans Cherry Farm and its stables; those he left to Sly — to various wildlife and forest conservation groups. He made a mental note to call his attorney and change his will so that Maggie would become the beneficiary of his estate. Finally, he came to what he’d been looking for, the small velvet pouch holding his mother’s meager supply of good jewelry. He’d given away the costume pieces to her closest friends.

Opening the bag, he pulled out the necklace he’d given her with the money he’d saved from his first job, a single strand of pearls with matching earrings she’d saved for special occasions, and the single diamond filigree ring she’d never been without. He’d wanted to bury her with it, but she’d called it a sweet, useless gesture. The ring wouldn’t do her any good in the ground. His grandmother later told him that it was the only thing she took with her when she’d left home. It had been handed down to her from her father, who’d been given it by his grandmother. She’d never hocked it, and he was sure there were times during his childhood when the extra cash it would’ve fetched was desperately needed. But it had been special to her, and therefore was special to him.

Aidan stared at the pretty antique ring and heard Sly’s words from earlier in the day echo through his subconscious. He knew what he had to do. When he returned the lockbox to its hiding spot in the closet, the ring was in his pocket.

• • •

Maggie didn’t allow herself to feel. She hid her broken heart under a polite facade, the way her mother had taught her. She made it through the drive into Brandwyne and her appointment with the obstetrician with a cold, hard knot of pain lodged in her chest. The rest of her was numb. She wouldn’t even allow herself to think about it; she feared she’d crack if she did. It wasn’t until she was nearly home that her walls began to crumble.

She had known Aidan wouldn’t be happy; the expression of horrified disgust that had twisted his face the day she told him she thought she might be pregnant had been haunting her. But she hadn’t considered that he’d want her to have an abortion. The very idea of it made her shake in revulsion. She wondered if he could ever love their child, wondered bleakly how long before this wedge between them would drive them apart. Would he look at her in a few more weeks when she began to show and see a monster? A sob hovered, tears hammered against that knot of crushing pain. She tried to cling to anger in an attempt to stave off the flood of grief that threatened.