Bearing Armen
Brenna Lyons
Release date 6/29/2009
Published by Phaze Books
Also by Brenna Lyons
Black Sail
Conquest
Mama’s Tales
The Last of Fion’s Daughters
The Color of Love
We Shall Live Again
Phaze in Verse
“The Fire God’s Woman”
from Coming Together: Under Fire
Last Chance for Love
Fates Magic
Rites of Mating
In Her Ladyship’s Service
Matchmaker’s Misery
Animal Instincts
Night Warriors
Will
of the Stone
This is an explicit and erotic novel
intended for the enjoyment
of adult readers. Please keep
out of the hands of children.
www.Phaze.com
Bearing Armen
Night Warriors Series:
Warriors Book Three
BRENNA LYONS
Bearing Armen copyright 2004-5, 2009 by Brenna Lyons
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Phaze Production
Phaze Books
6470A Glenway Avenue, #109
Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222
Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.
To order additional copies of this book, contact:
books@phaze.com
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Cover art © 2009 Kendra Egert
Edited by Kathryn Lively
eBook ISBN-13: 978-1-60659-154-3
First Phaze Edition – July, 2009
Printed in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Table of Contents
To the little loves of our lives.
To Beth, who’s always wanted a Warrior of her own. I promised you James, and I always keep my word.
To all the ladies and gents of Ebh’s list and the Weyr Live. You’re my first ‘writing home.’
To open communication and a happy family.
My husband, a most worthy man, who has proven himself over and over again.
Glossary of Warrior Terms
Beast- Beasts are what humans erroneously refer to as vampires. The stories humans tell are obviously not correct, but you can’t expect a human to get everything right.
Blutjagd- The “blood hunt.” Warriors crave battle with the beasts, as the beasts crave blood. Warriors are tied to beasts in that they sense many of the beasts’ special powers. A Warrior can feel the use of coercion, feeding, and other controls of humans. They also feel other Warriors engaged in Blutjagd, the death of beasts and Warriors in their range, and the presence of nearby beasts that are not fully ghosted. Rigorous battle training will quell the Blutjagd for short periods of time.
Elder- One of the original beasts, the Stone stealers who were damned for their crimes against the Stone and the Warriors. The elders are gifted with powers turned beasts are not, including the ability to reproduce with a Blutjagdfrau, the ability to turn other beasts, and the inability to be killed by anyone but a Warrior.
Endspiel- The point in printing when a Warrior must either seal printing or go insane. A Warrior who feels printing may not progress should break printing long before this point. Note that they are rarely smart enough to do so.
Fluch- The Warrior’s curse, passed from father to son or daughter. The Fluch may be removed from a daughter but never a son. If the Fluch is not removed in the Zeremonie der Freiheit by the time the menses begin or the Zeremonie des Schutzes is performed before freeing, the daughter is cursed to become Blutjagdfrau, a female Warrior. Because elders target Blutjagdfrau as mates, Warrior fathers will go to any lengths to free a daughter not marked by the Stone.
Ghosting- A talent that both beasts and Cursed Warriors learn to harness. Ghosting can hide the physical form of Cursed Warriors or beasts and all they hold or carry from each other and humans. In a lesser strength, it can “blur” the image of the user so that humans do not note the passage in particular but still see a person there, which avoids accidental collisions. Even a ghosted beast cannot hide uses of power that a Warrior can track. Warriors sometimes ghost in tandem to remain visible to each other but not other Warriors or beasts.
Krankheit- The “sealing sickness.” In the final stage of the transformation between human and Cursed Warrior, at or about the sixteenth birthday in males and a year after the start of menses in females, the sickness strikes. The young Warrior will suffer nausea, vomiting, a high fever, disorientation, dizziness, and may become incoherent. It is usually the only time in a Warrior’s life that he or she becomes ill, save morning sickness in a Blutjagdfrau.
Printing- Like imprinting, a Warrior becomes tied to his mate for life. He cannot choose another if she’s lost, cannot be unfaithful while she lives, and cannot ever divorce or otherwise dissolve the union. A printed Warrior is the most stable of men, unless his mate or children are endangered or lost. Then he will suffer the printing madness and may have to be killed by his house. Likewise, a Warrior who breaks printing, even early printing, will suffer for it. A Warrior who breaks printing too close to Endspiel will face the madness.
Veriel- The Mad Elder. The Destroyer of Lives. The Mad Deceiver, who led the traitors and freed the elders from the Stone. The most hated and hunted of all the beasts. Fixated on one woman, he would destroy the world to own her. At least, that’s what the stories say of him.
Warriors- Also called Cursed Warriors, Krieger der Nacht, Soldat der Nacht, or Sons of the Stone. The Warriors were an ancient race of protectors who spawned the beasts and now are driven to hunt their former brothers to extinction.
Tarot: Nine of Pentacles
Tarot Card: Nine of Pentacles
The Nine of Pentacles is the perfect card for Beth Havens. She is a woman accustomed to relying on herself and depending on the meager resources she has to support her two daughters alone. A widow left with twin infants to raise, Beth doesn’t have much, not even family to depend on. She resists depending on others, which makes dealing with the free-spending James Armen just a little hard to swallow.
It’s also a card of discipline and self-control, of sacrifice to reach a goal and pursuing something better for yourself. Beth lives for the day when their lives will be better. She has a timeline in mind to make this happen, and she has a plan in mind to get there. She will sacrifice everything from every pleasure of her own and even her health to reach that goal in the long run.
Beth is a woman of high moral fiber. She takes only what she must to survive. She’s gracious, even when she is turning you down. She resists the appearance of impropriety as much as the actual acts. Every move she makes is weighed: what it will gain her and her girls against the moral implications, and she willingly, though painfully, turns down any avenue that she deems a morally empty venture.
Little does she know that her usual methods will have to bend just a bit to reach what she really wants in life.
Chapter One
Thursday, November 30, 1978
“Damn it,” James Armen grumbled, staring at the hamburger in his hand in longing. “Is it too damned much to ask to get a meal in?”
The sense of a beast nearby was eclipsed by the sense of its coercion of a victim.
“Apparently so.” He took one bite, tossing the rest over his shoulder, knowing the rodents of the city, scurrying and flying alike, would finish it off.
The beast wasn’t far. James made the distance in a few short minutes. He swallowed a sigh at the sight of the woman, enthralled, unbuttoning her coat slowly while the beast watched. It was a disgusting thing to order her to do, especially if it intended to let her keep the memories of this degradation.
However, the fact that the beast was sloppy, completely engrossed in his play to the exclusion of all else, would aid in James’s job. He unsheathed his sacred weapon and took the beast’s heart in annoyance, cleaning his blade on its foul clothing before letting it fall, his eyes watering at the stench of beast blood.
“I gave up my dinner for a waste of skin like you,” he growled, unghosting. Now he’d have to return home and properly clean his blade, or he’d smell faintly like a beast all night long. The damned thing hadn’t even had the decency to give him a fight to take the edge off his need to hunt. A kill without battle was almost worse than no kill at all.
“Oh, God.”
He turned to the victim, sheathing his weapon before she could see it clearly. As he’d expected, she was pulling her coat shut, shaking, confused.
“Are you all right?” he asked, leading her away gently.
“What...what happened?” she managed thickly, looking back at the body they’d left behind.
“He was robbing you,” James lied. “He had a knife and—”
“No. He had fangs and...and glowing eyes.”
He winced. “If you tell someone that, you know they won’t believe you.”
She stopped cold, but her eyes didn’t challenge him as he expected. She fumbled her watch up, her pale face draining of all remaining color. She turned, swearing softly.
“What is it?” he asked. “Can I help?” James didn’t question his reason for offering that. It was a weakness most Armens shared, the knight-like inability to leave a woman in need to fend for herself.
“No.” She sobbed, pushing his hands away. She ran full out, crying.
“Damn this.” James fought his natural inclinations, then gave into them, gritting his teeth and loping after her.
The woman darted from alley to street to backstreet. James could have caught her easily, but he didn’t want to stop her; he wanted to find out what made her cry...and solve it. That’s what Armens did.
Finally, she stopped at a row house and knocked, stifling her tears.
The door opened, and an old woman scowled at her. “You’re late, Beth.”
“Yes, I know. I... Oh, Alice.”
“Come in. They’re waiting to go.”
James furrowed his brow, sliding silently toward them, ghosting. The women disappeared inside. What was Beth late for? Who was waiting for her? And why would these people make her frantic?
* * * *
Beth Havens wiped at her cheeks roughly, managing a tight smile as Melissa waved her hands from her seat in the playpen. She reached down and picked her up, hugging her younger daughter by an hour to her chest, avoiding Alice’s eyes. Beth knew what she’d see there.
“You can’t keep doing this,” Alice stated.
“It will never—”
“Happen again. I know. How many times have you told me that, Beth?”
Her heart sank. Please... I need this sitter. No one else reliable will watch the girls for a price I can afford. Beth lifted Melissa’s coat from the corner of the playpen and slipped it on.
Beside her, Alice did the same for Michelle. “I had plans tonight.”
“Oh, God. I am so—”
“Sorry. I know.”
“You know I—”
“Don’t usually have the misfortune of coinciding with my schedule. You did tonight.” She set Michelle in the double stroller, placing her hands on her ample hips.
“You know—” Beth began.
“I know you need this arrangement. I know it’s been difficult for you to keep house and home together since Ethan died. I know you don’t mean to inconvenience me, but you have more than once.”
Beth held her breath, praying that Alice wouldn’t send her packing.
“It can’t continue this way.”
“I guarantee—”
“You’ll guarantee me this. Every time you’re late, there will be a five dollar late fee.”
Breathing became difficult. Beth pulled the bonnets from her pocket, trying to fathom how she could possibly arrange never to owe that fee.
“Starting now.”
Beth turned to her, sick at the thought of paying it this week. Rent was due, and the cabinets were nearly bare.
“I mean it, Beth. If you don’t have the late fee by Monday morning, don’t bring the girls back.”
“Alice—”
“End of subject.”
Beth bit back tears at that. There was no way she could come up with another five dollars in her weekly budget. There was nothing else she could give up and still have food and an apartment. But without childcare, she would lose her job. There had to be some way to convince Alice.
What? Are you planning on telling her that you’re late, because a vampire attacked you? The man who’d saved her had been right; no one would believe that.
A knock at the door interrupted her inner argument. Alice marched to it and opened it.
Beth’s heart seemed to stop beating, and she barely noted Melissa patting at her shoulder. Her mystery man was standing in the doorway—a wad of money in his hand.
Alice looked from him to Beth and back again. “May I help you...” she asked, hinting for an introduction Beth wasn’t capable of giving.
“James, ma’am,” he offered.
She shot a hard look at Beth, but what answer could Beth possibly give? She didn’t know this man, and the only thing she did know about him, that he’d killed a vampire, would hardly sound sane.
He didn’t hesitate. “It’s my fault Beth is late,” he lied. “I...caused her extra work. Please, take this.” He pushed the money at Alice again, his expression pained.
Alice stared at the money in shock. “It’s too much,” she breathed.
It was too much. The bill on top was a ten, and even if the rest were ones, it wasn’t small change he was handing over.
“I’ve inconvenienced you, and I’ve inconvenienced Beth. Please. Look on it as a bonus for your fine work.” James tucked the bills into her hand, staring at Beth and Melissa.
Michelle made a grumbling sound of complaint and bounced in the stroller, no doubt a warning that it should be moving and she’d be happier if it were doing so. He locked on the movement, rounding Alice and striding toward her, his eyes wide in wonder.
Michelle turned to him, waving her fist his way. James crouched to her level, and she touched his face. Beth held her breath, biting back hysterical laughter as he kissed her daughter’s wrist.
* * * *
James reached out and took the bonnet from Beth’s hand, settling it on the little girl’s head, covering her blonde curls, chuckling as she fought the process. Twins! He could barely comprehend how lucky she was to have two precious baby girls. They were beautiful babies.
A few moments’ delay, and I would have orphaned them. I considered ignoring their need for a damned hamburger! He swallowed a cry of dismay at that thought. It was the truth. Ani help him, he’d honestly considered taking the time to eat at the risk of this woman and her children.
Never again. He touched the baby’s chubby cheek, managing an honest smile as she honored him with one of her own. “I’ll see you home,” he assured her.
“That’s really not—”
He snapped his gaze to Beth and the other baby, rising to his feet slowly. She took a deep breath, meeting his eyes steadily. James lifted the child from her arms, untangling the baby’s fist from her mother’s shoulder-length, slightly-darker than honey hair. He strapped her into the stroller behind her sister, topping off the job with the second bonnet.
Then he smiled at the sitter. “Good night, Alice.”
The silver-haired woman straightened her dress with a blush. “And to you.”
James rolled the stroller onto the front porch.
Behind him, Alice whispered to Beth, “That man is one you grab onto and hold tight, dear.”
He smiled at that, lifting the stroller down the single step to the sidewalk. Why couldn’t he pursue this? Not that I have much of a choice with my family history. Armens are fond of saving the ladies in distress and bringing them home as mates.
If Beth were willing, he could have more than he’d ever dreamed of. Few Warriors were lucky enough to have a daughter, and two were unheard of, even when they adopted daughters in.
His smile faded at the sight of Beth, her amber eyes assessing him. She wouldn’t be easy to court. She was a sensible woman. On the surface, his life wouldn’t seem a sensible choice.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she began cautiously.
“It was nothing.” It was. Most Warriors carried much more than that for emergencies. In truth, James had been lax by carrying so little pocket money. “Which way? Or should I drive you?”
She blushed. “No. It’s close, but you don’t have to—”
“I do.” Step one. “There are dangerous beings about.”
Beth scooped her shoulder-length hair behind her ear, motioning him east and falling into step beside him. “I’ll pay you back,” she stated proudly. “In two weeks—”
“There’s no need to. It was my fault you were late.”
“It was the vampire’s fault...and my own. I was already late.” She grimaced, as if admitting that was painful for her.
“You don’t owe me anything.” James rolled the stroller around a heave in the concrete.
“I don’t need your charity,” she snapped.
“It’s not charity. It’s a gift.”
She shot him a wary look. “You don’t even know me. Why would you give me a gift?”
“I didn’t. I gave your daughters a gift.”
Beth looked away, seemingly rattled by the concept.
James ached to take her hand and comfort her, but he had no doubts that she wouldn’t allow that. It simply wasn’t fair. The type of woman he wanted most was least likely to accept him in her life. Why couldn’t he just be happy with the typical blade chasers?
He turned to a door as she did, subconsciously matching her movements. Beth unlocked it, and James removed the baby from the front seat, anticipating her dismissal at the door.
She turned back, looking at the stroller and then James, her expression pained. “I can get them—”
“I need to talk to you.” He tried to state it calmly, but it came out as a plea.
She hesitated, glancing at the door nervously.
“Please. Have I done anything to prove myself untrustworthy?”
Beth looked as if she might say that he had. She sighed, shaking her head.
“It will only take a few minutes. You have my vow.”
She lifted the other child and pushed the door wide. “Park the stroller beneath the mail slots,” she instructed, heading for the stairs without a backward glance.
The baby in his arms yawned widely and snuggled into his shoulder, and James bit back a laugh. Even if Beth refused his bid for a relationship, this moment was priceless to him.
He followed her up the stairs and into a cramped apartment. Beth breezed through the front room and into the kitchen, removing the baby’s coat and bonnet and setting her in a playpen. She turned on a pot of water already set on the stove. She peeled off her own coat, revealing a trim body, maybe a touch on the thin side but still nicely rounded.
James took her hint, removing the coat and bonnet from his little charge. He glanced into the refrigerator as Beth opened it, then away to the baby in his arms, his heart aching as she stuffed her thumb in her mouth. There was little in the fridge, and what there was inside seemed to be primarily for the babies. He smoothed his hand in circles over her back and promised his protection silently.
“What did you need to talk to me about?” Beth asked, setting two glass bottles in the pot to heat.
His head spun. James had to make his continued presence a sensible move. “I want to offer you protection.” He didn’t stop to consider how he’d justify that to Carrick.
She went still, staring at the stovetop. “What does that mean?”
“You know what’s out there, Beth. You know about the beasts.”
Beth turned, looking at her girls in horror. “They’ll come back?”
James cursed his inability to lie to her. As much as he’d like to lie to gain the advantage, it would be dishonorable, and he wouldn’t do it. “Probably not, but anything is possible.” After all, Veriel had fixated on Corwyn’s mate. The thought of a beast doing the same with Beth made his stomach clench. “What I want to do is a simple thing—just an amulet and a blessing that keeps them from harming you.”
She fingered the silver cross at her throat.
“As you saw tonight, it doesn’t work. What I offer does.” He paused, gauging the effects of his words on her. “For your girls. I offer them protection as well. If something happened to you—”
“Yes.” Her voice was a strained whisper.
He sighed, relieved that she’d accepted his offer.
Beth stepped toward him, watching James pull the amulet from his jacket pocket. He settled it over her shoulders and cupped his hand behind her head, whispering the words of protection. He didn’t hesitate, pressing his lips to her forehead, then releasing her immediately.
She stared at him, touching the spot he’d kissed, moving her mouth as if she couldn’t decide what to ask first.
“It’s required,” he assured her.
Beth cleared her throat. “And this will work?”
“Guaranteed, as long as you keep the amulet next to your body.”
“But the girls—”
“We typically pin them to the inside of a child’s clothing until the age of four. Do you have spare diaper pins?”
“Yes. Of course.” She retrieved two from a Life Savers stacked bowl set on the counter, offering them to him.
James accepted them, then stared at the sleepy baby in his arms. “I need to know your name, princess,” he hinted.
Beth darkened. “You’re holding Michelle. Melissa is in the playpen.”
“Michelle. What a beautiful name for a princess.”
Chapter Two
Friday, December 1, 1978
“What’s troubling you, James?”
He ground his teeth at the sound of Carrick’s voice, acknowledging that his moment of truth had come—literally.
“Oh, no. When one of you won’t answer me, I know it’s bad news.” His grandfather settled on the couch across from James. “What is it? Did you lose a sacred weapon? Or break one? If you did, you’re forging the new one. You know that’s the house rule. Did you lose an amulet?”
“I—offered protection to...someone last night.”
The old lord’s bushy white brow rose in a way he hadn’t seen since Kord Maher had delivered himself for judgment after spending the night with the Lord Farmer’s daughter. “There was no feeding,” he noted.
He shook his head, feeling his cheeks heat. “No. There was no feeding, Grandfather.”
“Would you care to explain why you offered protection to someone who hadn’t been fed upon?” The bitter edge in Carrick’s voice spoke of punishment—or worse.
James prayed to Ani that his grandfather wouldn’t revoke protection. He started to ask the same of Syth, then decided his house god being Stone god made Him a bad choice to ask for something so outrageous and added a second prayer to Ani. With a woman and children involved, surely She was a better choice to ask for aid. On a whim, he added a prayer to Tes. She was female and known for granting unusual wishes.
Carrick cleared his throat, demanding an answer.
“It was actually three amulets,” James admitted. Maybe if I’m honest, Carrick will let them keep the amulets. Please, Ani—
“Three? You committed three amulets to persons who are not marked without my permission to do so?”
He nodded miserably.
“This tale had best amuse me, James.”
He sighed. “It’s a widow with two babies. She was attacked, and I couldn’t... I can’t bear to think of them unprotected.”
Carrick stared at him, a look of calculation on his face. “Do you intend to take this woman as your mate? Do you have interest in it?”
“If she’ll have me. I—I don’t understand this feeling, Grandfather,” he admitted. “I just met her, and I already ache to touch her, to soothe her, to—”
He laughed long and hard, wiping moisture from his eyes. “The right one is often like that. Just ask Kord about what the right one will do to a man.” Carrick sobered. “Have you considered the difficulties of bringing human boys into a Warrior household? It might not be wise.”
James chuckled in spite of the seriousness of the situation. If Carrick refused him... No. He wouldn’t think about that. “They’re girls. Twin girls, ten months old, the most beautiful I have ever seen, much like their mother.”
The old man looked at him in shocked silence, no doubt remembering his sister and niece.
“Michelle and Melissa,” James sighed, touching the shoulder Michelle had cuddled to, a smile curving his lips.
“A true treasure,” Carrick croaked. “Never forget what a treasure they are.”
* * * *
“Oh, Beth!” Mrs. McKee called out.
She turned, pulling the check from her pocket and offering it to her landlord.
“I can always count on you.”
Beth managed a smile, though she was still slightly heartsick. If it wasn’t for James Armen, she’d have either lost her child care or her apartment. She turned back to the stroller.
“I let the delivery boy in,” Mrs. McKee continued.
She went still, her mind working fast. “Delivery boy?” Who would send her a package?
“With the groceries. I imagine he made it here before you. They’re quick on weekdays.”
“Is he still here?” If he was, Beth would have Mrs. McKee call the police. Beth hadn’t ordered groceries. She’d planned to go to the store after the girls’ nap, but she never bought more than she could carry in the stroller. The two-dollar fee for delivery was more than she could afford.
“No. He left just a few minutes later.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course.” She sounded offended by the question.
“I’m sorry. I don’t like to take chances, being alone with the girls...”
“Of course, dear.”
Beth scooped up the diaper bag and hung it over her shoulder, then hoisted a baby onto each hip. She looked up the flight of stairs, already weary though she hadn’t climbed a single one. The walk seemed to get longer every time she did it.
By the time she’d reached the top, her legs and lungs ached and her arms shook in exhaustion. She wouldn’t be able to carry them both at once for much longer. Then what would she do?
Just the thought of leaving one at the bottom made her ill. If the lock on the door was more reliable, she might not feel so nervous about it, but it wasn’t. More than once, she’d come to the door and found that it hadn’t latched correctly and could be pushed open.
Shifting them both onto one hip and using the wall to support their combined weight got harder every day as well. Beth got the upper lock open and launched inside, lowering the girls to the living room rug. She shut the door, sagging against it. Lord, but she was tired.
Melissa and Michelle didn’t share that concern. In a heartbeat, they were on hands and knees, crawling across the floor in search of trouble.
Let them, she decided. The apartment was largely safe. What could it hurt to let them roam?
“The groceries,” she reminded herself. Beth had to find out if she’d been burglarized.
She laughed harshly. What was there to steal? The only thing of real value she owned was her necklace, pitiful as that was. She’d even sold her wedding band to survive a particularly hard month.
It was better to check, she supposed. The television was on its stand and the radio was on the counter next to the fridge. The ‘valuables’ were safe.
But, there was still shopping to do after naptime. Beth prepared herself for the bad news inside and opened the fridge, choking on her sigh.
“My God.” Her mouth watered at the sight of the stocked shelves.
The top shelf held three gallon jugs of milk, a half gallon of orange juice, one of apple, and one of grapefruit. The bottles of mixed milk and formula had been moved to the door to make room for the rest. There were salad greens and baby carrots in one drawer, assorted fresh fruits in another, and lunchmeat and cheeses in the last. The shelves were packed with margarine and butter...
Beth touched it, afraid she was dreaming. “Butter.” She laughed nervously, then forced herself on, cataloguing the rest.
There was cottage cheese, two types of jelly, condiments, eggs—two dozen, and a huge package of steaks.
Certain that it hadn’t ended there, she closed the fridge and pulled open the lower freezer drawer. There were meats of every kind, frozen sides, and...
“Ice cream.” She hadn’t had ice cream since just before the girls were born.
Beth shut the freezer, mindful of the electricity she was wasting with it standing open. She stared at her pantry cabinet, barely breathing. Her hand shook, but she eased it open, catching a bag of chocolate chips as they slid out.
“Baking supplies, canned fruit and vegetables, cereal and oatmeal, cookies and crackers, rice, spaghetti, sauce, macaroni and cheese, chips, wine...” Her head spun, and she could only see the front row. She set the chocolate chips inside and closed it, staring at the handle for a long moment.
Who would do this? Who could afford it? A wild guess that Ethan’s parents wanted to mend bridges lit in her mind, then disappeared amid a flurry of images of the tense months after Ethan died...and earlier, when they’d been engaged and newly married. No. They’d never have done this.
But, who did that leave her with? She had no one who would spend this kind of money on her, even if they had it to spend, and no one Beth associated with on a daily basis had this kind of money to spend.
A high-pitched squeal sent Beth in search of the girls. She found them beside the coffee table.
Melissa patted a stuffed bear that was nearly her seated height, a white bear with a pink bonnet that she’d already pulled to the back of the bear’s neck. Michelle had hers hugged to her body, peeking around the beige furred face topped by a pink peaked hat with a matching veil, the type typically seen on damsels in distress...or fairy tale princesses.
“Princess?” A memory pulled at Beth.
Michelle. What a beautiful name for a princess.
“He wouldn’t dare!” But, she knew James would dare it. The man obviously had no concept of frugal spending. The money he’d handed Alice as a ‘bonus’ would pay Beth’s bill for a month or more, if—as she suspected—most of the bills were the size of the ten on top.
“At least you two chose the right bears,” she muttered.
This was insane. Why would he...
Beth pushed away the thought that James expected a sexual repayment. That didn’t sound right. He’d kept his distance the night before. Aside from the kiss on her forehead, which he claimed was necessary to ‘seal the amulet,’ he hadn’t laid a hand on Beth, hadn’t hinted that he wanted a reward for saving her, hadn’t come on to her in any way.
And...she trusted him. Beth couldn’t say why she did, but there was something about him that made her trust him with her daughters, herself, her home...
Then he’s doing this, because he feels sorry for us.
Her initial gut response of anger faltered at the memory of all the food at stake. Without conscious plan, the mental math of how long this food would last played out in her mind; speculations about the uses the extra money in her budget could be put to for the duration followed.
Beth bit her lip, torn.
James had money to burn and wanted to burn it for her benefit...hers and her children’s. What did it matter if he did? He could spare it, and he would tire of them and move on soon enough.
No. She didn’t need to examine the reasons it was wrong. It was.
As it was, the state provided her with food stamps and medical coverage for the girls, but that wasn’t charity; it wasn’t a free ride. Beth paid taxes into the system that helped support them. She looked forward to the day when they wouldn’t need the subsidies. When the girls are old enough to spend the after school hours alone, she reminded herself.
Still, Beth cringed at the idea of them alone...ever. There was no question that the day would come, but she couldn’t deny that she wished it wouldn’t.
She stared at them, managing a tight smile. Michelle was laying on her bear, seemingly intent on an early nap on her new pillow. Melissa chewed on the bear’s bonnet, teething avidly now that she had something other than her fist to do it on.
“I can’t accept it,” Beth decided, her voice betraying her misery at the idea, though she knew it was right. The bears were one thing, but the food was too much.
There were two listings for Armen in the phone book, neither one for James Armen. Beth sighed, took a deep breath and called the first number.
A groggy-sounding man answered on the second ring. “Connor here,” he half-yawned.
“Sorry,” Beth managed. “I was looking for James.” She wound the phone cord around her fingers, hoping he knew James.
Connor snapped awake. “Is it an emergency?”
“No. I—I’m sorry I bothered you.” She started to hang up the phone.
“Wait!”
Beth gasped at the bark of an order, but she found herself obeying, bringing the phone back to her ear.
“That’s better. I’ll have James contact you, but I need your name to do that.”
“It’s Beth...Beth Havens.”
“Protected or...” He trailed off, hinting at a more intimate relationship.
“Protected,” she assured him, her face burning.
“If you’re a protected, I can—”
“This was a mistake,” she breathed. “I’m sorry I bothered you.” Beth hung up, ignoring Connor’s demand for her not to.
She stared at the phone, considering her options. He’d said James would call. Beth decided to wait until nightfall, then try the other number.
* * * *
James grumbled a curse, reaching for the phone at his bedside and fumbling it to his ear. “Yeah?”
“Oh, good. I’m waking you,” Connor growled.
He squinted at the bright light sifting around the heavy drapes. “Damn right you are. Who pissed in your Cheerios?”
“One of your protected by the name of Beth Havens.”
From the first thud of his hammering heart, James was wide awake. “And?”
“Well I would give you the ‘and,’ if she’d given me the ‘and.’ Since she refused to talk to me—You really need to educate your protected better than—”
“I’ll give her my direct number,” James promised.
“That isn’t the point, big brother. A protected needs to know—”
“I know what a protected needs to know, and so will she.”
“But?” Connor was just too damned perceptive for his own good some days.
“I’ll be giving her my direct number,” he repeated.
Connor snorted in laughter.
“It’s not what you think,” James warned, praying his youngest brother wasn’t about to let the others in on this.
“You haven’t taken a special interest in this protected?”
“Obviously, I have.”