“He shouted, ‘Fuck you, you ugly bastard.’ ‘Richard, no!’ his friend’s wife begged. But it was too late. He slammed his head harder against the boat and the women shrieked at the sight of the blood. Then a force pulled me back and I was here again.” Gemma stared at her hands, as though they were drenched in blood.

  I hugged her and she burst into tears. “I killed him! He hadn’t done anything and I killed him. Evan, I don’t want to be this way. Save me, please!”

  I cupped her face in my hands, wiped away her tears, and rested my forehead against hers. “Look at me, Gemma. You didn’t kill him. You got that?” She frowned. I had her full attention. “I saw the boat just before I found you. Someone was injured but no one was dead,” I reassured her.

  She gaped at me. “It was you. You brought me back.” She hugged me tight. “Only you can drag me out of the darkness. Be my light, Evan. Don’t leave me in the shadows.”

  “I won’t.” I kissed her forehead. “I never will. Forgive me—it was all my fault.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You came into contact with a Soul. I showed you his passing. It reawakened the Witch buried in you,” I admitted. “It was all my fault.”

  Gemma shook her head, seeing how guilty I felt. “Don’t say that. You did something wonderful, letting me be there for my friend. I’m the one who always ruins everything.”

  “You mean you don’t see me differently now?”

  “What? Why should I?”

  “Because you saw the Executioner. You saw me when I killed a mortal and took his soul. That’s why I told you to leave. I didn’t want you to see the darkness in me,” I admitted wearily.

  Gemma looked at me, her expression calm again. “You’ve seen mine and you haven’t run away. Why would I do it to you?”

  “I’m Death, Gemma.”

  “You’re still you, Evan. And to me you’re everything,” she said, looking me steadily in the eye.

  “I realize that part of me has always scared you, and today I showed it to you. We’re going to stop the evil inside you, but no one can ever change what I am: I’m a Soldier and I bring death with me. I took your friend’s father, whom you also cared for. How can you not hate me?”

  “Hate you? Seeing you in action was magnificent,” she confessed.

  “Magnificent? I killed that man right in front of your eyes, Gemma. Weren’t you even a little afraid for him? You knew I was there, that he was about to die.”

  “How is it you don’t understand? You saved him.”

  “I understand that. I’m just amazed you do too.” We Subterraneans were clear about our mission: to liberate Souls from their bodies and guide them to eternal peace. It was mortals who usually didn’t understand death. “What else did you feel?” I asked, eager to know her emotions.

  “I saw how you convinced Mr. Turner I couldn’t see the two of you. I almost believed it myself. It was weird . . . and exciting.”

  “Exciting,” I repeated, laughing.

  “Don’t make fun of me!” Gemma punched me on the shoulder.

  “You’re right. This is no time to kid around. How’s Peter?”

  “Shaken, but he’s trying to be strong for his mom. I was with him all morning. Jeneane, Brandon, Jake, and Faith came over too.”

  I nodded. Jake and Faith had finally become a couple and were inseparable. It had happened at the dance: he’d kissed her, and seeing how eagerly she’d kissed him back, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Where’s Peter now?”

  “Running errands. He had to help his mom make all the arrangements, so we left. She’s devastated and needs him right now, poor thing. The funeral is tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  I stood up and held out my hand. “What do you say I get you something to eat?”

  Gemma smiled. “What were you planning to get for me here in the forest, hmm?”

  “Fish, birds . . . how about a little squirrel meat?”

  She took my hand, stood up, and punched me on the shoulder again. “I don’t eat squirrels!”

  I laughed. “I know. I was only kidding—though I bet right now you could eat a horse. I heard your stomach growl a couple times.”

  “Moron!” Gemma walked past me, pouting.

  “Only joking! But you really should eat something. Our hideaway isn’t far from here. I could ask Ginevra to bring you something.”

  “All right, but I’m not a bottomless pit. I don’t know why you guys always say that.”

  “If you say so.” I shrugged, hiding a smile.

  “Oh, all right, I admit it. Happy? I like food. I could eat a—Ahhh!”

  I flinched, petrified by her scream. She doubled over, her hands on her belly. “Gemma, what’s wrong?” I asked anxiously.

  She cried out again, this time louder. “It’s the baby,” she managed to say, gritting her teeth against the pain. “He’s coming.”

  “What? Here? Now?”

  “Ahhh!”

  I looked around. What was I supposed to do? I didn’t have the faintest idea! I’d seen many lives come into the world, but I’d never felt so nervous before. Our baby was about to be born. It was both exciting and frightening.

  “Evan!” Gemma’s shout brought me back to reality.

  “Hold on to me,” I told her. “I’ll take you to the hideaway. It’s not far.” I took her in my arms and she cried out even louder.

  “No. No! Put me down!” she cried, panting. “Here. We need to do it here.”

  “All right.” I gently rested her on the ground and she clung tightly to my arm.

  “Don’t leave me, Evan. I’m afraid.”

  “I’m here.” I took her hand and kissed it, looking into her eyes. Gemma needed me; there was no room for doubt. I had to give her strength now. “Stay calm and breathe normally. I’ll help you. You’re safe with me,” I whispered.

  She nodded, clenching her teeth against another contraction. I took off my shirt and used it to cushion her head. “You trying to turn me on? Because this is not the time,” she joked.

  “What a shame—I was hoping it would work as a distraction.” I winked at her and she laughed. “Now you need to focus, Gemma. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.” She nodded several times and let me spread her legs apart.

  “Gin! Simon! I need you, now!” I shouted in my mind. Removing Gemma’s underwear, I saw it was drenched with amniotic fluid. The impenetrable shell that had protected our son for all those months had broken. I knelt there, perfectly still, a shiver running down my spine. For the first time, I could sense my son’s soul. The emotion threatened to overwhelm me.

  “Is everything all right? What is it?” she asked, concerned by my expression.

  “It’s our baby. The time has come to meet him. It’s time, my love. Now you have to help him come out, okay? Here, let me help you. When you feel the pain, just—”

  She squeezed my hand in a death grip. “Ahhh . . .” The earth shook beneath us. I looked up. All at once, clouds gathered in the sky and the forest came to life. Leaves whirled through the air, driven by a dark force. It was as though Gemma and I were in the eye of a hurricane that raged all around us. The lake churned, the water rising into giant waves. Nature was witnessing an extraordinary event; never before had a Witch given birth.

  “What’s happening, Evan?”

  “It’s nothing. Just focus on the baby. Here he comes! I see his head!” I exclaimed, my hands trembling. “You’re doing great. One more push. We’re almost there! That’s it!”

  The forest howled around us as though Gemma’s energy had transferred itself to the trees. I let go of her hand, preparing to catch the baby. She screeched between clenched teeth and bore down in one final, exhausting push.

  I caught the baby and cradled him in my arms. The forest filled with his cries. The leaves trembled and the wind howled even more fiercely, like a wolf acknowledging its leader. All the elements seemed to awaken at the force of his life’s shriek. A flock of birds rose in flight and filled the air. I raised the baby to my chest. He looked at me and the wind stopped howling. The clouds dispersed and sunlight streamed down on us as my soul touched my son’s. Tears flooded my eyes and I had to squeeze them shut and open them several times to make out his face.

  “Evan . . .” Gemma murmured, breathless. She was exhausted. “Quickly, I want to see him,” she begged me, in tears. I cut the umbilical cord, healed the end of it, and rested him, still covered with blood, in Gemma’s arms. “It’s a boy,” I whispered. “Just like you always said.”

  She clasped him to her chest and wept. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He had big, blue, slightly almond-shaped eyes and thick, curly, dark hair. And those tiny hands . . . I felt a primordial need to protect him. I healed Gemma’s wounds, sat down behind her, and held her close as together we admired our little miracle, with only the forest as witness.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything in the world.” I kissed her.

  The baby wailed. “See that, Evan? He’s looking at us.”

  “He recognizes you,” I said as mother and child gazed at one another.

  She smiled. “Hello, sweetheart. Welcome to the world,” she whispered.

  “Do you already have a name for him?”

  Gemma nodded. “He’s always had one. His name is Daniel Liam James.”

  My eyes went wide. “Daniel. Like Danielle, my mother.”

  “And Liam from William, like his father. For us he’ll just be Liam.”

  “What do you say we also add Drake, after his uncle?”

  “I bet he would call him Double D.” Gemma laughed through her tears and then gazed at the baby again. “Drake Daniel Liam James. It’s a bit long, but I like it.”

  I kissed the baby on the forehead. “Liam,” I repeated.

  Gemma caressed his face. “Hold me tight, Evan.”

  “I’m right here,” I whispered behind her.

  A tear trickled down her cheek. “I . . . I don’t want to leave him. I don’t want the Witches to take me away from you.”

  “I’ll never allow it. We’ll follow our plan and everything will go fine, I promise. No one’s going to separate us.”

  Gemma went back to stroking the baby. “Don’t worry,” she whispered to him. “We’ll protect you.”

  “Guys, where the hell are you?!” I called out in my mind. A second later, Simon and Ginevra appeared behind Gemma. “You guys missed one hell of a show,” I exclaimed.

  “Oh my God!” Ginevra saw Gemma on the ground and rushed to her side.

  “There’s someone who wants to meet you,” she said.

  “Shit.” Simon quickly took off his shirt and wrapped it around the baby, who was still in Gemma’s arms.

  “Hey, would you wait a few days before teaching him swear words?” she joked.

  “How did it happen? Why didn’t you call us earlier?” Ginevra asked me reproachfully. “I can’t believe I missed it!”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be spending a lot of time together,” Gemma assured her.

  “I did. I tried calling you. I figured you were in the workout room.”

  “No, we didn’t want be out of reach.”

  “So why didn’t we hear you?” Simon asked me.

  Ginevra’s eyes shot to mine. We were both thinking the same thing. It must have been Gemma. During the birth, it was as though Gemma’s energy had exploded all around us. Her power must have interfered with my thoughts, preventing them from reaching the others.

  “Can I hold him?” Ginevra asked. Gemma smiled and let her take him out of her arms. “Of all the forms of magic, this is the most extraordinary one,” she whispered, cradling the baby.

  Simon leaned over and kissed the child on the forehead. “He’s adorable. Have you chosen a name?”

  “More than one, actually: Drake Daniel Liam James, but to us he’ll just be Liam.”

  “Liam,” Ginevra repeated. “You’re one of us now.”

  “He’s perfect,” Simon told us.

  “Simon, bring the baby here,” I said. Gin, take care of Gemma.”

  “Evan, don’t leave me,” Gemma begged.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I just need to get a little water, okay? I’ll be back in a second.” She nodded and let Ginevra clean her up.

  I went to the edge of the lake with Simon, who knelt beside me holding the baby. I raised my palm over the water and it rose up in a gurgling arc. With the heat of my fire I sterilized it, then cooled it enough so Simon could bathe Liam and wrap him in his shirt again.

  “Congratulations,” he told me, slapping my shoulder. “You’re a father now.”

  “Yeah.” I smiled. It was strange to actually hear it said.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Never been happier,” I said.

  “As we all are.”

  “Come on, let’s take them someplace more comfortable. Gemma needs to rest.” Simon nodded, cradling the baby. I picked Gemma up in my arms and we walked toward our lake house, which wasn’t far away.

  “We have to tell my parents,” Gemma exclaimed when we arrived.

  “Simon, would you?” I laid Gemma on the sofa. The sun was still high and sunshine was coming in through the windows, lighting up the room.

  “Liam must be hungry,” Ginevra said. “I’ll get him some milk.”

  “No,” Gemma said. “I want to feed him myself.”

  Simon handed her the baby and turned to give them some privacy as he phoned Gemma’s parents. She bared her breast and snuggled Liam against her. The baby opened his eyes and gazed at his mother for a long moment. He nuzzled her skin, finally found her breast, and began to suckle. Gemma held her breath with emotion and a tear slid down her face. I couldn’t imagine her feelings as she fed him.

  Our lives were hanging by a thread, held together by an unacceptable oath. The baby was born. We had three days before the Witches returned to claim Gemma. But I wasn’t going to let it happen. I was going to take her hand and together, we would let that thread snap and fall into the void—wherever we ended up.

  LIGHT AND DARKNESS

  Gemma’s parents were overjoyed by the news of the birth. They closed the diner and hurried over to the lake house. It took a bit longer than expected to convince them there was no need to take Gemma and the baby to the hospital. To reassure them, we made them believe Simon—who everyone believed was a doctor—had delivered Gemma’s baby there because there hadn’t been time. The two of them couldn’t stop thanking him. They had no idea that the baby had been born in the middle of the forest and that I was the one who had delivered him.

  Peter’s father’s funeral was the next morning. We promised we would stop by to see Gemma’s parents the next afternoon before leaving town. We’d used a little persuasive mind control to make Gemma’s parents believe—and accept—the idea that we were going on a vacation once the baby was born. It was a necessary lie, given that we didn’t know what the future had in store for us. They accepted our decision, though reluctantly, and insisted that upon our “return” we get married. They didn’t know we already had.

  Anya was also with us all afternoon, along with two panthers that prowled the room nervously. Fortunately, the panthers had waited for Gemma’s parents to leave before making their appearance. The time was drawing near and the thought was making me nervous. Having them around was risky. At any moment they might discover our plans and ruin everything.

  When the sun finally set the visitors left, leaving us alone to admire our son. I was a father. It made me so proud, I could think of nothing else. To Liam I would be the father I’d never had. I would love him, protect him. And maybe one day he would look up to me.

  I gazed at Gemma. She’d slept peacefully on the sofa for most of the night, the baby nestled in her arm. She couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from him.

  Simon and Ginevra had finally come around. It was important for us to have them as allies in our war against the Witches.

  “Look, Evan. He woke up,” Ginevra whispered. I slowly went up to Liam and took him in my arms, rocking him beside the fireplace. “He looks so sweet, and so human,” Ginevra said, caressing him.

  “Sure does,” Simon added at her side.

  “What’s he thinking?” I asked Ginevra.

  “He’s too young. He doesn’t have actual thoughts yet, but he’s processing everything around him, the images, the sounds . . . I can interpret his sensations.”

  “How does he feel right now?”

  “He feels safe.”

  “You’re my son,” I whispered as he studied my face.

  “A son born from the union between good and evil, light and darkness,” Simon added solemnly. “Whatever his nature is, he’s the emblem of that balance.”

  Ginevra leaned in for a closer look. “And the whole world will kneel to him.”

  “Liam . . .” Gemma mumbled, waking up.

  “He’s here,” I said reassuringly, going over to her.

  “Do you think he’s eaten enough?”

  “I think so, but maybe you should eat something now. You need to regain your strength.”

  “I already have,” she assured me, “though I’d gladly have some pizza anyway.” She cast a hopeful glance at Ginevra.

  “You’ve got an appetite—that’s a good sign.” She winked at Gemma and pointed at the kitchen table where the pizza was waiting for her. Gemma made a beeline for the food. She was wearing a white nightgown and her long black hair flowed over her shoulders. Her figure was fantastic. No one would have imagined she’d just given birth to a seven-pound bundle of joy. Everyone had been worried that she’d barely gained weight and the pregnancy had lasted so long, but we knew it was because of her nature. Now that the baby was born, there was no longer any sign of the pregnancy, and after the delivery I’d healed all her wounds.

  “Simon, would you mind holding Liam?”

  “Of course not. We’re already best friends,” he said.