Page 10 of Unshakable

Henri put the datesof his son’s art show on his calendar. Sam’s talent, tempered by his substance use, emerged early in his life. While the event seemed far away, next year, time always proved mercurial. One never knew how much one had.

He hadn’t been able to see Toula today and arranged to meet her on the porch of her home again when dark fell tonight. The southern temperatures remained high enough for them to converse outside, far from the earshot of small children.

These kids had a good woman tied down, and she wouldn’t have things any other way. He stood when she emerged from the house, wrapped in a light blanket, her eyes dull and exhausted from the day.

He didn’t mince words. “You’re too young to look so tired.”

She rewarded him with a smile. “You can do the math, Mr. Gregory. I had my first child early, as did my daughter. Young and foolish, I suppose. I can still keep up at near forty.”

“Labor of love,” he mused, understanding how different raising his son had been from her current experience. “Do you ever wish things were different?”

Toula tilted her head, then said, “Let me tell you a little story. Once upon a time, a young woman got swept off her feet. She was too young to know better, and fell hard for this charming, worldly man. He took her out of this backward place and showed her everything she thought she ever wanted.”

By the wistful expression on her face, Henri thought she referred to their Fallen Angel. “How did you meet him?”

Blinking out of her memories, Toula sighed. “Michael never met a stranger. I went to visit my aunt in the city, to stay in New Orleans for the summer, and you know how he is. Bigger than life, the center of attention. The idea he’d want me to be in the spotlight with him seemed exciting.”

Henri reached over and covered her hand with his, surprised she wanted to share anything about her relationship with Michael. “What did he want, Toula?”

Silence dipped between them. “I didn’t know at first. No matter how thrilled I was to be on his arm, I protected myself as I’d learned to do. I didn’t tell him about my empathy, and he didn’t try to hide his feelings in any way. He truly thought me beautiful and wonderful.”

“As he should,” Henri murmured to break the tension.

“You flatter me.” She squeezed his hand. “No, he thought I would make a wonderful...what did he call it? Birther. He wanted me to have his child. And that’s when he told me what he was, and how special I would be to him if I would do this for him.”

“Ah.” Henri leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes. Same old Michael. Henri never understood Michael’s desire to fill the world with Grigori children. Specifically, his Grigori children. “He did this with several women.”

Toula snorted. “I’m sure. He said all the right things. Told me how marvelous our life together would be, right down to the details. Then something happened, and I didn’t believe him anymore.”

“What changed?” Henri asked, imagining some of the blunders Michael must have fallen into with her. “You were undoubtedly smarter than him.”

“My advantage came in feeling his emotions. I realized he didn’t care for me beyond having his child. I was a vessel, a means to an end, and eventually I sorted everything out.”

“Did he ever just tell you the truth?”

Shaking her head, she answered, “Life with him would not have been glamorous at all. Back then, I didn’t know enough about him and what having a child with e him meant. I got nervous because of my age, seventeen, and when I started asking questions, he dropped me like a hot potato.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

They listened to the wind before she answered, “Not a word, like he’d never been here at all.”

“You’re better off. Michael has a different view of the world, a different view of his importance and influence. He lost my friendship when I learned about some of his more extreme ideas.”

“Now, I know I’m better off,” she whispered. “I didn’t feel so lucky at the time.”

Henri sat with Toula, holding answers to questions she hadn’t asked close to his heart. He’d never repeated the experience of having a child with a human woman. The first time, which gave him Sam, had been too terrible to consider again.

“What is it?” Toula asked, leaning forward in her seat. “You may as well tell me. I can feel your pain.”

“The experience of having his child likely would have killed you,” he shared, trying to remove emotion from his tone. “The gestation and delivery are different, very hard. The child lives, the mother usually dies.”

His words pushed her back and she removed her hand from his. “So, he basically intended to use me, let me die, and do whatever he wanted with the child.”

Yes, Henri agreed internally. She already knew the truth and could feel he didn’t lie. “I’m sorry to destroy any romanticism you still felt for him.”

“I’m not sorry.” She stood, pulled her wrap around her shoulders, and opened the door to go inside. “I needed no further illusions about Michael Midadel.”

Then he wouldn’t give her any. Nor would he sugar-coat his story, either. They needed to trust each other if they had any hope of defeating the dark force surrounding her family.

He stood to bid her goodnight, and when she turned, she asked, “Aren’t you coming inside?”

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