Page 7 of A Seed Of Peril

“More boxes?”

He nodded. It clicked; they must’ve been to add to the smaller supply he left in the drawer of his nightstand. Upon approach, I noticed they were the cheaper, standard bullets—nothing special, unlike the hollow points.

As he was distracted, I lifted my tank top up over my belly, lowering my pants at the waist a little so he could feel. “Dominic?”

He looked at me, raising his brow. I pushed around on my belly, trying to get the baby to move. I could feel his or her reaction, wriggling around. “The baby kicked this morning.”

That got Dominic’s full attention.

On his way over to me, I rested my palm on a spot toward my lower belly, where the baby finally kicked. I closed my eyes, smiling while I drew in a breath, soaking up the moment. I opened my eyes when I felt Dominic’s hand on my belly, releasing my held breath. I gently pushed around along the sides of my belly, triggering the baby to kick once more. Dominic’s eyes went wide when the baby’s foot swiped across, stretching my skin. His hand remained on my belly as the baby continued to kick and move.

Cradling the back of my head in his right hand, Dominic kissed my forehead before resting his to mine. His other hand stayed on my belly as I held that wrist. We gazed into each other’s eyes.

“I love you,” he said, “so much.”

“Why’dyou let me agree to this?” Dominic asked, rubbing his forehead, elbow on the desk we had in our bedroom, frustrated at the webpage he had open on my laptop.

The webpage for where I wanted to build our baby registry.

I laughed, and Dominic did too, unable to mask his own chuckle throughout his frustration with the online process.

“Do you want me to do it?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ll figure it out… Eventually.”

I loved nights like this. The lights were minimal. Our fireplace, complete with a white-gray stone mantlepiece, was roaring. Our windows were open, and a fan was softly blowing to add to the cooler air because, well, hot flashes and night sweats. The entire room was soothing, the comfort of my pregnancy pillow the cherry on top.

The Golden Girlsaired on the flat screen television mounted on the wall above the fireplace. My attention drifted as I watched, my thoughts soon elsewhere.

My hand on my belly, I closed my eyes, soaking up the baby’s movements. The baby was most active at night; go figure. But even though the baby being active at night made it hard to sleep sometimes, I wouldn’t trade this for anything.

Through all the ultrasounds and watching the changes taking place, pregnancy was surreal. Motherhood, in general, was surreal. I never envisioned it in my life’s deck of cards, but here I was, knocked up by a vampire. The more I sat on whether to give our babyDianidine, the more I leaned toward a yes. Dominic and I had talked on and off about it, and he agreed but said it was ultimately my decision. If I chose to let our child grow up as a hybrid, he would help him or her become accustomed to their bloodlust, adapt to their heightened senses, control their thirsts and murderous urges, and so on.

I didn’t want those struggles for our child. And Dominic admitted he didn’t either. Life wouldn’t be easy for them regardless, but we would do our best to make it as easy as humanly possible. This world was cold. Cruel. Unforgiving. And so was this business. What was reassuring was Dominic explaining that he wouldn’t bring our child up as Hector did in terms of what were his rules, methods, and discipline. That was a weight off my shoulders, despite already long sensing that choice just by how much Dominic had expressed over time how he hated Hector’s ways.

Hector put them through hell. He didn’t give his sons a choice, whether it was turning them into vampires or viscously training them. They had to learn this way of life. Had to be exposed to all its horrors and ugliness.

One thing Hector put them through that Dominic filled me in on rocked me. When teaching them basic fighting, he made the kids fight each other until one of them tapped out, bled too badly, broke a bone, or passed out from a move, such as a headlock. It was disgusting. Dominic acquired some of his scars from those fights. Anthony got his arm broken in a fight between him and Angelo. It was an accident; Anthony’s arm got caught when being pinned down and twisted too far at an odd angle. Guilt consumed Angelo throughout Anthony’s recovery.

Mr. Salamone forced them to fight each other repeatedly until they were skilled to his liking.

Nadia always tended to their wounds, secretly hating every second of it because it distressed her to see them all banged up and in pain. According to Dominic, she scolded Hector frequently, begging him to let them train with a professional so their chances of injury were slim to none. Hector didn’t like that idea. He took offense, accusing her of insulting him and his ways, claiming she was out of line. I guessed that day, they had a big fight about it in his office. The boys heard the yelling and shouting. Nadia never fought Hector on that issue from there on out. That was the first and only time she, in a sense, bowed down to him. I was shocked to hear, just as Dominic was equally shocked when it happened. He figured her job being threatened played a big role and that it was her first time really challenging him.

I was glad she tried to continue to fight for their safety and what was best for them, even with simpler issues, such as allowing Dominic to learn to play the piano.

I missed her. I missed her warmth. Her fearlessness and her gumption. I missed my mother, Deborah, just the same. I was jealous that Dominic’s mother was still alive and back in his life. I would’ve given anything for the chance to have my mother—and father—here with us.

Despite his unfortunate hand growing up, I hoped Dominic and his mother did, in fact, bond again. I wondered if he secretly wanted that, too, as much as he tried to convince himself and everyone else otherwise. Nadia Edmonds would always be the mother he never truly had.Shewas his mom in every sense of the word. Bianca had a hell of a mountain to climb to regain her son’s love, respect, connection, and trust.

It reminded me of how blessed I was to have earned all of those with Dominic.

I remembered Nadia explaining how hard Dominic’s walls were to crack and how much of a stone heart he carried. I was one of the few privileged to lift his mask and see the true man he was on the other side. The man that, indeed, had a soul. Who had mercy and forgiveness. I fell in love with a man, who no matter how broken, no matter how icy cold, would give me the world if he could.

Our child wouldn’t just have a grandmother, a slew of uncles, and a cousin waiting to spoil him or her with an abundance of love; they also would have a father who would move Heaven and Hell for their happiness and safety. Our child wouldn’t have to worry about any of the bullshit their father endured under the abusive hand of his own scumbag of a father. Dominic finally understood and accepted the truth that he’d broken Lorenzo's cycle. He no longer saw himself asthatmonster.

Dominic had fought hard to be the man he was today, and I couldn’t have been prouder.

I knew Bianca was proud, too, as well as our brothers.

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