Chapter Twenty-two

Thanksgiving morning was a blur of cooking and running errands. Magnus was still asleep when Astrid sent Donata into Masonville for a few last-minute items, and his mother predicted he’d probably stay that way until it was time for them to all head into the town square.

“It’s a bear thing,” she explained. “It will help him heal faster. Don’t forget the tomatoes. I hate buying them from the store, but at this time of year, the ones we grew are long gone.” She started peeling potatoes, then looked up. “Are you still here?”

For the moment, Donata thought, but she took the hint and scooted.

She spent the entire time in town looking over her shoulder, but there were no signs of West and no calls from Clayton Moore when she turned on her phone to make brief calls to her mother, Doc, and her own answering machine. She wasn’t reassured in either case.

Back at the house, she was kept busy until right before the family got ready to leave. She hadn’t had any idea she would be here this long, and hadn’t brought any clothing worthy of a party, but Kari surprised her with the loan of a long red wool dress and warm black tights, and then gave her a big hug.

“What was that for?” Donata asked, taken aback. “Not that I minded.”

“Consider it a thank-you for helping my brother,” Kari said. “And maybe an apology for being so rude to you when you first got here. I might be a little bit defensive when it comes to my family.” She ducked her blond head and shrugged.

“Mama Bear, eh?” Donata said. “I don’t blame you. I don’t always get along with my own family, but I’d fight to the death before I’d see anyone harm them.” That included the new life within her, although she’d barely let herself think about that.

“You must miss them,” Kari said thoughtfully. “Is it difficult to be away for the holiday?”

“It is.” Donata swallowed hard around the sudden lump in her throat. “I miss my niece Sophia Gaia the most. I’ve been at every Thanksgiving dinner since she was born.”

Kari grinned. “I’ll happily loan you the hellions, if that would make you feel better.”

Donata grinned back. “I didn’t think you knew Magnus calls them that.”

“Ha!” Kari said. “He’s my younger brother. I know everything.” She looked at Donata speculatively. “I suspect I know some things about him that he doesn’t even know himself.”

She patted Donata on the back in what was probably supposed to be a gentle gesture but almost knocked Donata off her feet. “Get dressed, Witch. We’ve got a feast to get to.”

The town square of Gimle had been transformed into a magical wonderland. The meeting hall at the end of the square was lined with rough wood tables and benches, with trestle tables near the door groaning with enough food to feed an army of Shapeshifters. Lanterns and candles lit the interior of the hall, and the square itself was bright with burning torches and the bonfire burning merrily in its center.

More tables and benches had been set up under canopies woven from tan woolen cloth decorated with Norse symbols and stylized pictures of wild animals and warriors. Smaller bonfires dotted the square here and there in case people needed to get warm, but fortunately the night air, although crisp, was free from snow and not too chilly for the end of November. In the sky above, stars twinkled brightly, as if adding their shine to the decorations.

Merriment filled both the interior and exterior spaces, bringing them alive with laughter and the sound of voices raised in greeting, as if it had been years since the Ulfhednar had seen their neighbors, instead of days. Children ran everywhere, getting underfoot and probably into trouble, but nobody seemed to mind. Kegs of beer and cider lined the outside wall of the meeting hall, and bottles of mead covered the table next to them. Most folks brought their own wooden plates and cutlery with them, along with metal and ceramic mugs, some of which had clearly been filled more than once before Donata and the Torvalds even got there.

Ulfhednar played as hard as they worked, and they worked very hard indeed.

Donata was unexpectedly touched by the warm way most of the townspeople greeted her as they walked through the crowds to the tables of food. In sharp contrast to her initial reception, she was hugged and smacked on the shoulder and generally treated as if she were one of the clan. She’d been braced to be treated like an outsider, and the relief was almost painful when she wasn’t.

“They’re grateful to you for returning our god to us,” Astrid explained. “Not to mention making it possible for Magnus and the rest to finish the Ulf testing without any more trouble.”

“Odin was never really gone,” Donata protested. “Just a little . . . distracted. I’m sure he would have answered your calls eventually, even if I hadn’t helped.”

“But you did help,” Astrid said firmly. “Bears are loyal creatures, and so are Ulfhednar. We never forgive our enemies or forget who our friends are. You are securely in that second category now. Just get used to it.”

Donata wasn’t sure she would ever get used to having been informally adopted by an entire Ulfhednar town, but she had to admit it made the night a lot more pleasant.

She was watching Magnus across the room while pretending to focus all of her attention on her food, which was admittedly wonderful. She and the rest of the Torvalds had claimed a space at one of the inside tables, but the hellions had bolted their food and run to join the other children, and Halvor was engaged in some serious conversation two tables down with Halfrida and a few of the other elders. Magnus had eaten, then wandered off to chat with people he hadn’t seen much during his long months of training.

She loved watching him interact with his people. Donata freely admitted that she was a loner, not inclined to socialize in large groups at all, if she could avoid it. Magnus, on the other hand, was in his element, laughing and joking and giving out those wonderful bear hugs right and left. The other men clearly liked and admired him, and the women, well, they obviously liked and admired him, too, although often in different ways. From where she sat, Donata had seen at least a dozen women curl themselves against his side and gaze up at him flirtatiously. He didn’t even seem to notice, although Donata had a hard time not getting up and standing next to him, just so those other women couldn’t.

She didn’t have the right, of course, fake engagement or no, so she stayed at the table and nibbled on a piece of turkey that had undoubtedly been brought in by one of the hunters in the room.

“Here,” Astrid said, breaking into her thoughts and putting a mug of mead down in front of Donata. “I noticed you were just drinking water. You’ll never make it through this whole night without something alcoholic in you.” She chuckled. “Especially if you have to spend most of it watching silly women throwing themselves at Magnus.”

She wished. “I’m fine,” she said, pushing the tempting mug away. “The food is so delicious, I wouldn’t want anything to distract me from the taste.”

Astrid peered at Donata dubiously. “That doesn’t make any sense, dear. Why wouldn’t you—“ Sudden understanding dawned on her open face, and she let out a delighted shriek before Donata could stop her. “Great Freya! You’re pregnant, aren’t you? Why didn’t you and Magnus tell me?”

Donata resisted the temptation to bang her head on the wooden table in front of her. “Shhhh,” she said. “Astrid, please don’t.” But it was too late. All the other women at the table started in with loud congratulations, and it spread through the room like wildfire. Magnus was already striding over before Donata could get a word in edgewise.

She couldn’t read his expression at all, and her stomach swirled around the food she’d just eaten.

Halvor came to stand by his wife as she smacked Magnus on the arm and said, “Why didn’t you tell us, Magnus? Didn’t you think we’d be happy for you?”

Face burning, Donata said quietly, “He didn’t know. I just found out recently and hadn’t had a chance to tell him.”

“Oh, dear,” Astrid said, clasping her hands over her mouth as if she could take back her untimely announcement. “Whoops. I’m so sorry. It never even occurred to me that it was a secret.”

Donata sighed. “Not exactly a secret, Astrid. I just wanted to wait to talk to Magnus before telling anyone else.” She looked around the room at all the cheerful smiles aimed in their direction. “I guess that ship has sailed.”

Halvor shook his head. “My darling wife has many wonderful qualities, but I’m afraid discretion isn’t one of them.” He reached out and clasped his son on the shoulder with one meaty hand. “Not the best way to find out, but congratulations anyway. You’re going to make a terrific father.”

“I had a good example,” Magnus said calmly, then turned to Donata and said in that same even tone, “Let’s go find someplace a little more private to talk, shall we?”

Donata stood up and walked through the hall beside him, her hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to figure out what to say, and worried about what he was feeling. Was he angry? Did he feel betrayed? She wanted to throw up or run away, or both. But she owed it to him to have this conversation.

They made their way through a sea of congratulations (and only a few openly scowling visages) until they got out the front door and popped around a corner of the building where there was a little distance between them and the revelry, although the sound of an impromptu wrestling match filtered back through the shrubbery.

“Is it true, ’Nata? Are you really pregnant?” Magnus’s voice didn’t give away any emotion either, leaving her with no clue as to what he wanted the answer to be.

She pressed one hand against her still-flat stomach. “I am. I only found out about a week ago, and with everything going on, there was never a good time to tell you. I’m really sorry you had to find out the way you did.”

He let out a small chuckle. “When I told you that everyone in this town knows everything about everyone else, you probably thought I was kidding.” He sighed, leaning in and kissing her tenderly. “I admit, I would rather have heard about it directly from you, instead of in the middle of a room full of my friends and family, but I’m still just as thrilled.”

“Thrilled?” Her voice might have gone up an octave. “You’re thrilled?”

He sounded surprised. “Of course I am. Aren’t you?” Magnus leaned down to gaze into her eyes. “You’re okay, aren’t you? I mean, you’re not having any problems?” His brow wrinkled. “I wasn’t even sure that Witches and Ulfhednar could have offspring together. It’s safe, isn’t it? It’s not going to harm you?”

“I’m fine, as far as I can tell. The doctor I saw in town seemed to think everything looked fine, although of course she’s a Human, not a Paranormal. I’ll feel better when I get the okay from a Witch healer, but everything feels all right. I’m only a month or two along, so I probably wouldn’t even have realized I was pregnant if the baby hadn’t been interfering with my ability to do magic.” She gave him a wry grin. “Apparently the reason I couldn’t summon your ghosts was because some Witches have problems controlling their gifts during the first trimester.”

“That’s the reason you couldn’t talk to the dead? Wow. I never would have guessed.”

“Me either,” Donata admitted. “My great-aunt suggested the possibility when I talked to her about the problems I was having doing magic. Honestly, I thought she was crazy. But one home pregnancy test and one at the clinic in Masonville proved her right. She’s never going to stop gloating.”

Not that she’d told her family yet. That was a conversation that was definitely going to have to take place in person. Preferably from behind bulletproof glass.

Magnus suddenly got quiet. “Did you say a month or two?”

She nodded. “I did. They can’t tell exactly when it is this early. They usually go by when you first miss a period, but with all the craziness that went down in the last few months, I haven’t really been paying much attention.”

She could see him mentally counting back days. “We slept together for the first time about a month ago,” he said. “Does that mean there is a chance I’m not the father?”

She nodded, wanting to reach out for him but not knowing if that would make things better or worse. “That was one of the reasons I hesitated to tell you. I’ve been trying to figure out if there is a way to determine the genetic makeup of a baby this early. I thought I’d call my sister Lucia, who is a nurse, and ask her if there is a spell for that. I just haven’t had the opportunity.” Or worked up the courage.

“So Peter could be the father,” Magnus said in a calm tone.

Donata winced. “Maybe. There wasn’t that much of a gap between the end of my relationship with him and you showing up to whisk me off to the depths of Maine.”

“Ah,” he said.

Ah. What the hell did “ah” mean?

“You should also probably know that West tried to tell me that there was a chance the baby was Anton’s.”

“West knew before I did?” For the first time, Magnus actually sounded indignant. “And I thought you told me you never slept with Anton.”

Donata wished she could sink into the ground. “West found out accidentally, because he saw me with some pamphlets from the doctor’s office. And no, Anton and I never did anything beyond a kiss or two, but West insisted that the Major Anemoi don’t need physical contact to create progeny.”

“No wonder their race is dying out,” Magnus said.

Donata laughed despite herself. “That’s what I told him.”

Magnus shook his head. “What a mess.” He paused. “Tell me something, ’Nata. If it turns out the baby is Peter’s, would you want to get back together with him?”

“What? No!” Donata reached out and put one hand on Magnus’s chest. “First of all, I don’t know how to get in touch with him, even if I wanted to. Second, you know how possessive Dragons are about their children. That’s why Peter’s mother hid his existence from his own father. I’d just as soon not get into a tug-of-war over my baby. But most of all, Peter and I just aren’t a good match. There’s no way I’d want to be in a relationship with him, although if it turns out that he is the father and if he ever shows up again, I’d be willing to let him be a part of the child’s life. But that’s it.”

“Good,” he said decisively. “Then let’s get married. Make our fake engagement into a real one.”

“What?” Donata hadn’t even seen that one coming. “But what if the baby turns out not to be yours?”

“I don’t care, ’Nata,” he said in a low tone. “I want to be with you. I want to help raise this child, no matter who its father turns out to be. We’ll make it work.”

Donata blinked back tears. He’d said all the right things—all except one. It shouldn’t have mattered, but apparently it did. She didn’t know when she’d fallen in love with Magnus Torvald . . . or maybe she’d loved him all along and never wanted to admit it because she’d known they could never be in a real relationship. But clearly, he didn’t feel the same way. He was a good guy and would take on her and her baby because that was the kind of man he was, but it wasn’t enough. Besides, there were still too many reasons why it couldn’t work, no matter what he said.

“I think we should wait to make any decisions until we know who the father really is,” she said, heart heavy in her chest. “Besides, we still have the issue of who sent the ghosts, I need to figure out what to do about the Major Anemoi, and even after all that is dealt with, I have to get back to my job.”

“Can you even do your job right now, if your magic isn’t working? Stay with me, and we’ll tackle the Major Anemoi together.”

That hadn’t worked out so well for the last man who’d gotten in the sixth race’s way. Donata couldn’t bear the thought of Magnus getting hurt because of her. He was strong and tough, but Peter’s father had been, too, and being a full-blooded Dragon hadn’t saved him from their wrath.

“I don’t know, Magnus,” she said, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “I appreciate the offer, I really do. I just need to think, okay?” She wiped the back of one hand across her face. “By myself.”

Magnus stared at her for a minute, then nodded. “Whatever you want, ’Nata. Just remember that you aren’t in this alone.” He kissed her on the forehead and walked away.

Crap. Could she have handled this any worse? Maybe, but she couldn’t think how.

She slowly made her way across the square, waving at the various people who yelled congratulations to her as she passed. She was definitely not cut out for living in a small town. Eventually she found the path that led back to the Torvald compound—deserted now that everyone was at the party—and plodded down it with leaden feet.

She was just passing through a wooded section when she felt an iron-strong arm snake around her chest from behind, and the unmistakable chill of a sharp blade at her throat. Pulled up short, she stopped in her tracks, the edge of the knife biting into the soft skin under her chin. A trickle of blood ran down her cleavage and into the red dress.

“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” a voice hissed in her ear. “Bad enough you had to play the hero, but now you’re pregnant with Magnus’s baby? I’d hoped you would just leave town, but now I’m afraid we’re going to have to find a more permanent solution. Luckily, there are lots of places to bury bodies in these woods.”