Page 11 of Unshakable

Chapter Four

When this visit began, Toula hadn’t planned to invite Henri inside or spend any extended period of time with him. These old memories weren’t worth the agony they dredged up but revisiting them with him took the bitterness away somehow.

To his credit, Henri hesitated before following her inside, where she made herself a stiff drink with no apologies. “Over the years, I’ve thought quite a few nasty things about Michael. I’ve wondered whether I made the right choice. I never once thought he didn’t care whether I lived or died. Never.”

“It’s not that he didn’t care,” Henri explained, “Grigori care for humankind so much our love was our downfall. Michael cared for other things more.”

She offered Henri a drink, and he took the glass from her hand, sympathy all over his face and streaming from his soul. Perhaps he’d mistaken Michael for someone better, too.

“Sometimes,” he offered, “Grigori don’t know who or what they are. There can be all kinds of issues with doctors and nurses, teachers, anyone close to them. I didn’t have much guidance growing up, and while I knew certain things to do or not do, I learned a particular lesson the hard way.”

“Do tell.” She sipped her drink, the liquor burning a streak to her belly. “Misery loves company.”

A universal truth. Would he commiserate with her, tell her all of his missteps, mistakes, and lapses in judgement as he asked of her?

He studied her, and she felt his defenses weakening.

After a deep breath, he resigned himself. “I met Carina as a young man in Miami and finally understood why we, as Grigori, found our weakness in women. She was beautiful and intelligent, curious, and generous to a fault. I knew to be careful, and still things happen. When she became pregnant, I got her the best care and still could not risk taking her to someone who would poke and prod, for my own sake and that of the child. Everything from the moment she told me the news was unfair.”

“And she died?” Toula asked quietly, out of respect. After all, he’d been kind to her as she disclosed her past. Kind and brutally honest.

“Yes.” Henri took a deep drink. “When I told her about us, the Grigori, she held everything against me. Mercifully, she passed after holding the son she’d just given birth to”.

“Why do you say ‘mercifully’?” she prodded, drinking in the misery of his spirit with her liquor.

He paused and searched her face, his agony barely under control. Finally, he said, “Because women who live through the birth don’t understand what comes next. The children have incredible growth patterns, among other oddities. We can’t take these children to a doctor because of their physiological differences, which means there are battles between mother and father, mother and child. This is more than enough to make a good woman lose her mind.”

Toula rested her hip against the sofa, taking the story in. When she chose a thread to pull, she asked, “You lost your love and have your child, who you say doesn’t want to be Grigori. Are you worried about him?”

“Very much.” He downed the rest of his drink in one swallow. “He blames me for her death but knows who he is and what can happen. I hope and pray he never finds out the harsher realities of our lives. So far, so good.”

Seemed like she’d sidestepped a landmine with Michael, then, seeing the situation from a new direction. She refilled both their glasses. “What about Grigori women and human men? How does this version end?”

“Mmm.” Henri took the drink and stared into the depths. “Grigori children are always male, Toula. There is no reverse of the situation, unfortunately. Perhaps then we’d be a little more sensitive.”

“Do you still think about her?” Toula wanted to know.

He met her gaze and smiled, sadness in every pore. “Carina? Every day. Every time I look at Sam. He has her Caribbean free spirit, her energy and creativity. Sometimes I think my only contribution was his gender and physicality. Everything else comes from her.”

Her heart warmed. She wanted to meet Sam some day. “I ran straight out from under Michael to get pregnant by the first attentive young man I could find. Hurrah for life choices, don’t you think? Has there been anyone else for you?”

“Not really. There are acquaintances for a short time. For company, maybe to take to an event I’m obligated to attend. If she can’t understand me and comprehend the limits I impose on myself, there is no point, is there? We are as fallible as anyone else. To lie and deceive those we profess to love never sat well with me. I’m too old to change my ways now.”

Toula cut her eyes at him. “How old are you, then?”

He hesitated, and then cleared his throat. “Old enough to know better, and still old enough to care.”

She laughed and dropped the matter, for now. He might answer when she least expected him to. She knew they lived longer than most humans, just not how much longer.

“Beatrix is coming home for the weekend, I’m afraid,” she told him as their gazes connected. “I’ll be out of pocket while she’s here.”

“You don’t want me to meet your family, your girls.”

Since he didn’t frame his statement as a question, she ignored his statement and continued. “I might be able to get away if she takes them to do something.”

“All right,” he agreed. “You know how to reach me.”

“I wish...” she started, then trailed off. No one cared what she wished for. Although maybe Henri did care, as he’d said.

“What is it?” Henri prodded with a gentle smile, as if he felt her emotions instead of the other way around. “I see how lonely you are. I know how lonely I am. There’s no shame in saying so.”

She sighed and made her desire as simple as possible. “I wish you could stay, that we could be as carefree as we might have been years ago. I shield the girls from everyone, not only you. I hope you believe me.”

He nodded and reached for his coat. “I believe you. With all you’ve been through, I would be protective, too. I shielded my son in many ways, until he got too big for me to handle. They are only young once. I wish I could stay, too.”

As she escorted Henri to the door, she took his hand, his long fingers wrapping easily around hers. She wanted him to linger, wanted to forget herself in the night as only a freer woman could do.

She would not risk the girls. Not even for him, a man with such a good, gentle heart.

Once outside, Henri looked up at the sky. “Almost a full moon. Let me know about the weekend. I’ll stay close by, in case you need me for, well, anything.”

“All right.” She nodded, a flush of heat creeping up her neck. As if he saw her blush in the moonlight, Henri pulled her by the hand and kissed her softly on the lips, lingering long enough to communicate his own desires for them.

As she felt his rush of desire, she also felt her need, long forgotten and neglected. Kissing him back, her hands cradling his face, she almost broke, almost changed her mind.

She couldn’t risk the girls, not even for him.

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