Page 30 of Having the Time of My Midlife

“Where should I be?” I asked Gideon.

My husband had gone full-on Demon. The Grim Reaper’s eyes were sparkling blood red, and his ebony-black wings had burst from his back. It was scary and stunning. I found it hot. Getting my head examined was on the to-do list.

“Sit on the couch,” he instructed.

Candy delivered Alana Catherine to my open arms. She was now alert and awake. Her little legs were kicking like she was riding a trike, and she was trying to shove her entire fist into her mouth. My gal was talented. It was hard to reconcile that what we were about to do was on the word of the baby trying to eat her hand.

Were we crazy? That was a given.

Had Pandora been playing us? No. I didn’t believe she had been. It was all too raw and real. Plus, the message from Alana Catherine made sense to our situation. It was filled with info Pandora couldn’t have known. I was still making my peace with what was about to happen.

And then it happened.

Gideon snapped his fingers and produced a wicked-looking, sharp dagger encrusted with shiny red rubies on the handle. The dagger looked ancient. I was sure it was. My daughter and I were the only living people in this room who weren’t older than dirt. The weapon was compact and mostly blade. I took a deep breath and willed myself not to gasp. There was no way I was backing out, but I wanted to face it like the badass I believed Iwas. I’d fought enemies who’d shot fireballs the size of cars and others who’d tried to decapitate me. This was nothing…

“Okay,” Gideon said, sounding as tense as I’d ever heard him. “Shortly, I’m going to cast a spell on the knife. When it’s done, I’ll slice my palm and then yours. We’ll clasp hands and mingle our blood. Once that’s been accomplished, you will place a drop on Alana Catherine’s tongue.”

“And?” I asked.

“And that’s it,” he replied, scrubbing his free hand over his jaw.

I tilted my head in question. “I don’t understand how I’ll be keeping our daughter from feeling pain.”

Gideon was holding on to his composure by a thread. I got it. I really did. He was dealing with the two people he loved most in this world. He was about to inflict what I could only guess was horrific pain. It was killing him. I completely understood. And if the tables were turned, I would do the same. Because, while causing the love of my life severe pain was nearly unimaginable, allowing our daughter to experience it would be even worse.

“You’ll hold her close to your body after the blood touches her tongue,” he finally said. “As long as she’s touching you, you will feel her pain, not her.” His lips compressed into a thin, flat line. It was obvious he was at war with himself.

I reached out to him. He took my hand and squeezed it. His bright red eyes were wild and unfocused.

“I love you. I trust you. I believe in you,” I said. “You’re doing this because you love me and our baby. Here’s what I say, let’s get this f-ing party started. The faster we go, the faster we come back.”

“As you wish,” Gideon said, pulling his shit together. He kissed my hand before reluctantly letting it go.

The love of my Immortal life chanted in a language that I’d heard him use before. I didn’t understand a word if it. It washaunting and lyrical. If I wasn’t anticipating pain, I would have enjoyed it. The blade sparked and hissed. A foggy red mist seeped from it and rolled off like dry ice in hot water. Gideon continued to chant. I was transfixed on his face. His gaze was fixed on mine. I felt his love. I felt the pain of his indecision.

I gave my head the smallest of shakes and then smiled. “We’re in this together. No regrets. Just do it.”

He nodded and continued. As the chanting stopped, the mist turned to sparkles and burst in the air above the dagger. Alana Catherine squealed and clapped her chubby hands. It seemed as if our baby knew what was happening. I wasn’t sure how that was possible, but in our world, pretty much anything seemed possible.

Quickly and almost medically, Gideon ran the blade over his palm and sliced it open. The blood ran down the sides of his hand and dripped to the floor. He stared at the wound for a long moment. There was no time to think. I took the action into my own hands, so to speak. Keeping one arm around our squirming daughter, I shoved my other at him. An offering for his blade.

“Slice my hand,” I insisted. “Don’t hesitate. You heal quickly, and so do I.”

He sliced across my palm with the bloodied dagger. After, we joined hands and held on for dear life.

The word ‘pain’ didn’t even begin to describe the excruciating agony that rattled my bones and burned through me like a red-hot poker covered in metal barbs and razor blades. I’d descended into the Darkness with the dead. That little trick was excruciating. I’d fought battles and lost limbs. That had sucked. But this was the worst pain I’d ever experienced.

Screwing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth so I didn’t scream, I tried to quench the inferno burning me from the inside out. No avail. My blood was pure molten lava, dehydrating my body as sweat poured off my skin. I heldtight to Alana Catherine to keep her from slipping out of my grasp. I used her as a tether to reality, a reminder of why I was holding court for the agony so that I wouldn’t let it go. Letting it go meant I couldn’t protect my little girl, and I couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—allow that to happen.

I groaned through gritted teeth as a series of burning jolts rocketed through my body. They started in my stomach and spread fast through the rest of me. I was sure if the pain didn’t let up I would black out, but then Gideon wrapped his arms around both me and our baby, giving me the strength I needed to persevere. The pain was intense, but my biggest fear was allowing it to spill over into my child. This was how I kept the bad from touching her. This is how I kept her safe. I held on for what felt like years but had only been a few minutes. Then, suddenly, it ended as quickly as it had begun.

Laughing weakly with intense relief, I peeled part of my soaked shirt away from my body. The sound was gross. My throat was parched and raspy as I uttered, “Water.” And “Dry clothes.”

“I’ve got this, fucker,” Candy said, waving her hands from across the room and gifting me with new dry clothes and a cold glass of refreshing water.

“Thank you,” I whispered, refraining from commenting that she’d dressed me in mismatched sweats and ratty tennis shoes. I was thankful for a dry outfit.

Gideon held the glass to my lips as I sipped the cool liquid. Miraculously, it quenched me as if chocked full of magical electrolytes. Trying to regulate my breathing was harder than expected, but the look of concern on my child’s face forced me to have superpowers. Within a few seconds, I no longer sounded like I’d just run a marathon.

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