Alex and I had agreed not to discuss anything this close to Rand, in case he turned his sneaky elven antennae in my direction and found me distressed enough for him to get suspicious and investigate. He needed to be nowhere within ten feet of Eugenie, and especially not within touching distance. Touching her would ramp up his power and he’d know in an instant. Since the child she carried had his DNA, he might be able to communicate with it if he got close enough—or even if he didn’t. Who the hell knew?
“It’s sleeting.” Alex came back into the living room. “Ground’s still too warm to stick, but we might have an icy drive to the council meeting tomorrow night if it doesn’t get above freezing tomorrow.”
“Great. It’ll make the evening even more special.” At least the baby crisis had temporarily taken my mind off the coming Interspecies Council meeting, which promised to be a debacle. The prospect of testifying had kept me awake most of the last two weeks, ever since they’d decided to meet before the holidays instead of waiting until January. Not that pretes in general hung mistletoe and stockings, but because the current political atmosphere was so contentious.
This would be the group’s first official gathering as a governing body, and it scared the hell out of me. What could be worse than a roomful of pompous, self-important preternatural bureaucrats, each trying to prove himself more badass than the prete in the next chair?
Judgments would be passed. Examples would be made. I didn’t want to be one of them.
The sound of an opening door wafted down the hallway, and the squeaky hinges were followed by a slow cadence of boot heels on hardwood. These were not the footfalls of a happy woman.
Eugenie’s eyes had puffed almost closed and her nose had reddened to the color of a Santa suit. Her expression lay somewhere between stunned and catatonic. “Congratulate me, guys. I’m having a baby elf.” She sat heavily on the sofa next to me. “What in the hell am I gonna do?”
I took Eugenie’s hand, and Alex sat on the coffee table facing us, his knees touching mine. He cleared his throat, and I had a sinking feeling that he was about to say something awful. Not intentionally awful, but cluelessly awful.
“Is there any chance it isn’t his? I mean, have you … did you…?”
Eugenie narrowed her eyes and I leaned back to watch the fireworks.
“Well, let’s see, the only person I’ve even fooled around with since Rand was … hmm … I believe that was with you, Alexander Warin. Could it be yours?”
What? I gave Alex my own version of a narrow-eyed look and he had the worst possible reaction under the circumstances: He blushed and stammered. The dog.
“It was, uh, when we thought you really had bonded with Randolph and we were both pissed off at you and, uh, nothing happened.” His words tumbled out in a rush. “Really. Eugenie, tell her. Nothing happened.”
Eugenie looked at me and shrugged. “Nothing happened. We had one half-hearted kiss, which I started, and then I went home. Point being”—she turned back to Alex—“no, this can’t be anyone else’s baby.”
He closed his eyes. “Sorry, it’s just that it would be easier if it weren’t his.”
Which gave me an idea. “As long as we keep Rand from getting anywhere near you, Eugenie, he never has to even know about it. If…” I’d been about to say “If you decide to have it,” but I’d been having that conversation with myself all the way to the drugstore and back. I would not advise Eugenie on whether or not to continue this pregnancy. Even if she asked my opinion, I wasn’t sure what I’d tell her because I didn’t know what I’d do in her situation. It had to be her decision.
“… If we can just keep him away,” I finished.
I slumped down in my seat. Nothing was easy here, because the decision not to tell Rand felt wrong, too. Quince Randolph was a cretin, but for all the underhanded things he’d done to me—including kidnapping and political manipulation—he also had saved my life more than once. In a way, by offering me a way to avoid turning loup-garou after I was infected, he’d saved Jake Warin’s life, too.
He had a right to know he had a child on the way, and we needed credible information on human-elven pregnancies. I couldn’t exactly Google “elf spawn.” Well, I could, and I had—while we waited for Eugenie to take the pregnancy test. More than a million results popped up, which was downright scary. A quick scroll turned up a lot of World of Warcraft sites, which I figured would be less than helpful.
Rand might be our only reliable source of information. And once he knew Eugenie was pregnant, he’d be insufferable.
The longer we could keep this baby a secret, the better for everyone, especially Eugenie. She needed time to adjust to the idea, and I needed to find a reliable, discreet source of information on human-elven reproduction.
“Have you considered an abortion?” Alex looked perfectly and sincerely clueless. He had the tact of a baboon, and his words hung heavy through a long, tense silence.
“Go the hell home. I hate men. I don’t ever want to see another man in this house, human or otherwise.” Eugenie pushed herself off the sofa and slapped Alex upside the head on her way past. “DJ, get that dog out of here. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I kicked Alex’s ankle. “Nice job, Fido.”