Home > Night's Mistress (Children of The Night #5)(30)

Night's Mistress (Children of The Night #5)(30)
Author: Amanda Ashley

“If you decide motherhood isn’t for you, Rane and I will be happy to raise your child, won’t we, Rane?”

“Sure.” He smiled at his wife and daughter and then returned his attention to Mara. “I think Savanah’s right. You should at least give it a try before you decide. Have you told anyone else?”

“No.”

“All right, then,” Rane said, “we’ll keep it that way if it’s what you want.”

“I suppose you can tell Rafe and the rest of your family, but no one else.”

“A baby,” Savanah said, smiling. “I think it’s wonderful. Oh, we’ll have to give you a shower! I’ll talk to Kathy . . .”

Mara stared at Savanah. “No. I don’t think . . .”

“Just for our immediate family,” Savanah said. “It’ll be fun. Maybe we’ll even let the guys come and we’ll make a party out of it. What do you say?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

Later that night, back at Logan’s house, Mara weighed the pros and cons of keeping the baby while she lingered in the bathtub. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. Maybe keeping the baby wouldn’t be such a bad thing. She had spent most of her life alone, afraid to trust anyone, afraid to let anyone get too close. But the baby, her baby, would be a living, breathing part of her, someone she could love unconditionally. Someone who would love her in return. Someone who would need her day and night for years to come. Years ago, she had asked Roshan what it had been like, raising a human child. He had thought about it for a moment, and then said, “Interesting.”

Mara grinned as she reached for the soap. Right now, interesting sounded pretty darn good.

Mara grew more and more dependent on Logan as the days went by. She had no mortal friends and even though she had known Roshan and Brenna for years and considered them and their descendants as family, she couldn’t help feeling inferior, and even embarrassed, when she was with them. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t help it. Strangely, she didn’t feel that way with Logan, probably because she had known him for so long, or maybe because he made her feel safe, protected. Loved.

Mara thought of Kyle from time to time. Too bad she hadn’t met him now, when she was mortal. The cad. He had said he loved her, but it had been a lie. Far better to be loved than to love, she mused. It certainly hurt less.

She shook his image from her mind. She would not think of him now.

Earlier, Logan had dropped her off at the mall to shop while he went hunting. She had bought some much-needed maternity clothes and then wandered through the baby section of a department store. She hadn’t meant to buy anything, but the blankets were so soft and pretty, the sleepers so cute, the booties so tiny, she just couldn’t resist, and before she knew it, she had spent over three hundred dollars.

Logan whistled softly when he picked her up half an hour later. “What’d you do, buy out the store? How many maternity outfits can one woman wear?”

“It’s not all for me, silly. I bought a few things for the baby.”

“A few!” he exclaimed as he stowed her bags in the trunk of the car. “Looks like you’ve got enough junk here for a dozen kids.”

“I couldn’t help it. Everything was so cute and”—she shrugged—“I never did have any willpower when it came to shopping.”

“I found a place for us in Nevada,” Logan informed her on the way home. “It’s in a little town called Tyler, about ten minutes from Ramsden’s office. It’s not as big as my place, but it’ll do for a few months. We can move in anytime you’re ready.”

They moved into the house in Nevada the first week in September. Located at the end of a quiet, tree-lined street, it was probably the last place anyone would think to look for her. Not that there was anything wrong with the house. It was just so ordinary, from the bland beige walls and carpets to the unremarkable furnishings, but these days she didn’t take much interest in her surroundings. Logan had offered to redecorate the place, but she lacked both the desire and the energy.

Logan had been the soul of patience since they had moved. He put up with her moods and her bad temper, rubbed her aching back and her feet, held her when she cried, and assured her that everything would be all right.

One Friday night in late September he decided she needed to get out of the house. Turning a deaf ear to her protests, he gathered her close to his side and transported them to Reno. The arch over Virginia Street proclaimed Reno to be “the biggest little city in the world.”

Mara frowned at him as they materialized at the end of the town. “What are we doing here?”

“I thought we could both use a change of scene. Come on.” Taking her by the hand, he led her down the street.

Reno, which was named for Union officer Major Jesse L. Reno, had started life as a mining community back in the 1800s. Mara recalled spending a few days in the town back in the 1930s. At that time, the city had been famous for its liberal divorce laws and legalized gambling, both of which had helped to create its economic boom. At one time, it had been the gambling capital of the country, but that had changed with the growth of Las Vegas and casinos owned by Native American tribes. Still, it was an exciting place.

The city had certainly changed since the last time she had seen it. The casinos she had once visited, like the Nevada Club, Harold’s Club, and the Palace were gone; the Comstock, the Sundowner, and the Virginian, were closed. Some had been turned into condos. Now, there were newer, larger, grander hotel/casinos like the Atlantis and the Peppermill. Even without her preternatural senses, she could hear the excited cries of gamblers hitting the jackpot as she passed by one of the smaller casinos.

“Care to try your luck?” Logan asked.

Mara shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

They decided on the El Dorado Casino, simply because Mara liked the name. Hand in hand, they walked through the casino, trying to decide which game to play.

Logan’s hand tightened on hers as they passed a blackjack table. She looked up at him and then, following his narrowed-eyed gaze, felt a shock of recognition when she locked gazes with the dealer. Ed Rogen. She hadn’t seen him in over a hundred and fifty years, but there was no mistaking him for anyone else.

Rogen recognized her, as well. Hatred flared in the depths of his pale blue eyes. Leaning forward, he whispered something to a voluptuous red-haired woman sitting at the end of the table. The woman glanced over her shoulder, looked Mara up and down, and then said something to Rogen.

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