Year One (Chronicles of The One #1)(128)

What if they needed him?

With a shrug, he stretched out on the bed beside Lana.

If they needed him, he thought as he drifted off, he’d be right there. The baby whimpered, had him blinking his eyes open again.

“Don’t wake her up, okay?” he whispered, gave the tiny rump a couple of awkward pats. “In her place, I’d sleep a month.”

When she whimpered again, stirring restlessly, he shifted.

“Okay, let’s try this.” He gathered her up, and when she curled against his chest, rubbed her back. “Yeah, that’s better. That’s better. That’s my girl.”

As he slept, Fallon watched him. Knew him.





EPILOGUE

On the last day of the first year Lana stood at the window watching a light, pretty fall of snow. She cuddled Fallon as she wondered what the New Year would bring.

A year before she’d been with Max at a party in SoHo, drinking wine, laughing, dancing while thousands gathered in Times Square to watch the ball drop.

She thought of Max often. She had only to look at Fallon, the already thick raven-dark hair, the eyes slowly turning from infant blue to smoky gray.

The pang had lessened, and the baby was part of the healing.

So, she knew, was Simon.

Just as she knew his feelings for her, as she knew his unquestionable love for the baby.

She’d end this year, this first year, with memories of the man she’d loved, memories she’d always hold precious. And she’d begin the next giving her heart to the man she’d come to love.

“You’re the link between us, my baby.” She brushed her lips over Fallon’s hair. She lifted the baby high, making her gurgle and kick her legs. “You’re the everything.”

She heard the dogs bark and, lowering the baby, saw a man on horseback riding down the lane toward the house.

Fear came first. Would it always?

She ran to get the sling she’d made, secured Fallon in it to free her hands before she retrieved the shotgun. Ready to protect, defend, she watched as Simon walked toward the horseman.

The man dismounted. He wore a long, dark coat, held the bay’s reins in one gloved hand. He wore no hat, and snow fell over his wavy mane of hair. His beard, trim and dark like his hair, carried a white streak.

They spoke. Simon glanced toward the house, then left the man standing in the snow with his horse.

“Who is he?” Lana demanded when Simon opened the front door. “What does he want?”

“He says his name is Mallick. He says he’s come to pay tribute to The One and her mother, and won’t come in without your invitation. He claims he has things to tell you. He’s not armed.”

“He knows about the baby?”

“He knew the night she was born, Lana. He knew the hour. He knows her name. He says he’s sworn to her. I believe him.” Simon took the shotgun from her. “But I’ll tell him to go if you don’t want to talk to him.”

“He has power,” she said. “I feel it. He’s letting me feel it so I understand he won’t use it to harm. I wish I didn’t have to talk to him. I wish she was only a baby, my baby. But…”

Lana stepped to the door, looked out. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you. Is there a place my horse can rest out of the weather? We’ve traveled a long way.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Simon brushed a hand over Fallon’s hair, ran it down to give Lana’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Nobody’s going to hurt her.”

“Bring him into the kitchen. I’ll make him something to eat.”

She heated soup, made tea, warmed bread. And steeled herself when Simon brought Mallick in.

“Blessings on you,” Mallick said. “And on the light you’ve brought to the world.”

“There’s food.”

“And kindness. May I sit?”

She nodded, but kept one arm protectively around the baby in the sling. “How do you know about my daughter?”

“Her coming has been written, sung, foretold. One year ago today, the fabric ripped, the scales tipped when the blood of the damned defiled holy ground. So the purge followed, and magick strikes back. You have nothing to fear from me.”

“Then why am I so afraid?”

“You’re a mother. What mother doesn’t fear for her child, especially one who has hints of the child’s destiny. May I eat? I’ve fasted three days in honor of The One.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Here.” Simon lifted Fallon out of the sling. She immediately babbled at him, tugging at his hair. Then she looked solemnly at Mallick.

“She still remembers some of the waiting time, and sees some of what’s to come. Knows these times as much as the here and now. You see that, too,” he said to Lana.

Heavy with the weight of destiny, Lana sat. “Is there no choice for her?”

“Oh, she’ll have many choices, as do we all. If Max had chosen to go north instead of south, if you had chosen to stay rather than to think first of the child and your friends, if Simon had chosen to turn you away, we would all be somewhere else now. Instead we’re here, and I break my fast with this excellent soup.”

He studied Fallon as he ate. “She’ll be a great beauty—that is not a choice, of course. She takes much from you, from her birth father. You’ll teach her what you know, as her life father will teach her. As will I, when the time comes.”