“Sentinel.” There was a joyous and impatient edge to his voice, like a child who can’t wait to open a Christmas present.

   I smiled at him. “It was at Towerline. The binding magic.”

   Ethan was as smart as they came, and realization dawned quickly in his face. “The side effect. It didn’t bind you inside the sword; you think it bound the child to you.”

   I nodded. “That’s the theory. The binding magic made her stick, at least until she’s ready to pop. And ‘her’ is just a guess,” I said, before he could ask. “I don’t like saying ‘it.’”

   “Some magical side effect,” he said after a moment.

   I grinned at him. “Seriously. Nine months and eighteen years of side effect, give or take.”

   “The test,” Ethan said. “The one that had to be passed. What was that?”

   “I haven’t talked to Gabriel, but I have a pretty good feeling it was related to the dragon—facing down my fear of the monster, and the possibility of what he’d done, and could do, to Chicago.” I smiled up at him. “She’ll be the only one of her kind—the only vampire born as a vampire. I think she needed me to prove that I could be as brave as she’ll need to be.”

   Ethan pulled me toward him, wrapped his arms around me, nestled my body against his. “My wife. My child.”

   “Yep. Probably in May.”

   “In May,” he said, wonder in the word. And then he froze, looked down at me with horror in his face.

   My heart sped in answer. “What? What is it?”

   “You’ll be eating for two.”

   I slapped his chest. “Don’t do that. I thought something was really wrong.”

   “Something is wrong. Do you have any idea how much this is going to cost me?”

   I just shook my head at him. “You want to keep going? Just get it all out at once?”

   He grinned with the delight of a child. “Can you imagine what your cravings will be like?”

   I smiled at him. “Can you imagine bottle-feeding a vampire?”

   His mouth opened, closed again. “I cannot. We will literally be writing the book.”

   “We will. Although I’m sure there will be plenty of people—supernatural and otherwise—with sage advice to offer. My mother being the first in line.” I grinned at him. “And she’s going to want to throw a baby shower, probably with you in attendance.”

   “I already did the wedding shower.”

   “This is a separate thing. And attendance is mandatory.”

   Ethan smiled slyly. “I may be sick that evening.”

   “Vampires don’t get sick.”

   “In fairness, they aren’t supposed to be pregnant, either.”

   He had a point, so I smiled at him. “We’ll figure it out.”

   Just as we’d done before, and just as we’d undoubtedly do again.

   He caught my face in his hands, pressed his mouth to mine, and, on the steps of Cadogan House, kissed me madly, deeply. “I do love you, Sentinel.”

   “I love you, too, Sullivan.”

   We walked into Cadogan House. And this time, I hoped I wouldn’t need my sword, if only for a little while.

EPILOGUE

THE REMAINS OF THE CAKE

Twenty-one Months Later, Give or Take

Chicago, Illinois

   Hands on my hips, I looked down at the year-old girl who bounced on chubby thighs, her tiny fingers gripping the edge of the coffee table. Her golden curls moved as she did, bouncing up and down around her cherubic face, punctuated by emerald green eyes.

   This beautiful little girl was stuffing Cheerios into her mouth with wild abandon, bouncing up and down on plump little legs that poked out beneath a blue dress sprigged with tiny white flowers. “Ree!”

   It was her favorite sound, the word that meant “Yes,” “Cheerios,” “Here,” and every other phrase she couldn’t quite manage to articulate.

   I nodded. “Like those, do you?”

   Brow furrowed as she worked, she scooped a handful of Cheerios from the coffee table and offered them to me. “Ree.”

   I walked to the coffee table, went to my knees, and slurped Cheerios out of her unsurprisingly sticky hand. She squealed happily, jogged in place on unsteady feet, and grabbed more Cheerios. Then she lifted the few she managed to corral to my mouth. I obliged her and munched them. Tasty, but five or six were more filling for a toddler than for a thirty-year-old vampire.

   “Are you ready?” her father called out from the next room.

   “Almost,” I said, and pulled a barrette from my pocket, used it to clip back one side of Elisa’s hair. It would keep her curls out of her face—and her sticky hands from getting tangled in the thick blond locks.

   “Dress!”

   “I know, sweetheart,” I said, smoothing out the skirt of her blue cotton dress. She was a rough-and-tumble girl, and she’d destroy the dress by the end of the evening, but she looked lovely in it now. I tucked her into white Mary Jane shoes. “Do you like your dress?”

   “Pretty,” she seriously said.

   “Yes, it is. Are you ready to go see Aunt Mallory and Baby Lulu?”

   She nodded seriously. “Baby.”

   Ethan stepped into the doorway, eyes glowing green with pleasure. “How’s my birthday girl?”

   Elisa squealed, raised her chubby arms.

   With the pride of a lion, Ethan walked forward, lifted her up. She wrapped her little arms around his neck, then kissed his cheek. “Ree! Ree! Ree!”