“But I feel so good. I want to play!”
The shadows behind him started to turn slowly, bruising with stormy eruptions. His dark cloak trembled and snapped on the surface. Tendrils of darkness curled around his legs and arms. One inky strand circled his neck.
“Kathleen, you must turn back now,” he said. “I can’t hold Twilight from you long.”
“But it’s so pretty here.”
The trees shivered in the gathering storm. Chattering whispers filled the air. And at the edges of her vision, swift, glittering movement among the trunks. Faeries, everywhere.
“It’s a lie to trick and take you before it is time,” he said. “Wake up!” The shadows surged, and Shadowman flung out his arms to hold them back. One of his hands gripped a long staff, topped by a curved blade that glinted in the colored light. A scythe.
Death.
Oh, God! The baby!
Kathleen whipped around, looking for the mountain, the rocks, her parents. But she was in her hospital gown, her bare feet shuffling in the velvet earth.
Trees surrounded her, dark trunks thickening, branches stretching into a tight, dense canopy, its scent intoxicating, muddling her mind. Where to go?
“Run!” Shadowman shouted, his voice tight with strain.
Kathleen bolted, the frigid darkness licking at her heels and chilling her bare legs. But there were only trees and trees and more trees, pressing in to block her path.
Too soon! She had to get back. Had to deliver her baby before Shadow could take her. She had to find a way back to life, if only for a few moments.
“Maggie!” she screamed.
“I’m right here,” Maggie said. “I won’t leave the baby. I’ll keep my promise.”
Pressure crushed Kathleen’s chest. She gulped for air but was drowning anyway. Her heart clamored wildly. No amount of forced calm would stop it.
The hospital room was a chaos of movement. Nurses, doctors, blurring around her. Maggie was a flash of red hair to her upper right. The young doctor, Cotter, was there, a green mask over his face, gloved hands lifted, waiting. A new machine was wheeled into position next to her and a strange man tugged on her IV.
“. . . acute pulmonary edema . . .”
She was lying flat, where before she had been at a slight incline. Something pricked, burned. “The baby,” she said, but her voice was a rasp. The baby!
“. . . congestive heart failure . . .”
“There was no way this baby was ever going to make it to term,” a nurse was saying. “Someone with her condition never should have gotten pregnant.”
“Shut up,” Maggie bit back. “You don’t know anything.”
Kathleen’s vision sharpened as the forest grew around her. Twilight had followed her into wakefulness as her crossing neared. Trees speared the hospital room, floor to ceiling, invisible to all but her. A woodsy scent filled her nose and soft fae voices whispered excitedly. It was a place of magic and dreams, of fantasy and nightmare. There was no escaping its Shadows, not for anyone. No eluding it for long, even with Shadowman holding the darkness back. Everyone eventually had to travel the dark tunnel formed by its trees.
She’d been at its brink all her life.
“Kathleen,” Shadowman said, a murmur at her ear. Of course he would be near.
“Not yet,” Kathleen begged soundlessly. Heart failing, her lungs filled with fluid. “Please.”
Maggie leaned in, face blotchy and white. “Honey, it’s time. The baby needs to come out now. Stay with me, okay? I need you, sis.”
She veered out of view as the doctor brushed something across the mound of Kathleen’s stomach. The world blurred as the colors of Twilight became more distinct—deep vermillion, raging magenta, violent indigo. Static roared in her ears. Her heart clutched. Sensation both numbed and heightened in a frightening electric fission. A change.
Not pinned to a table. Not drowning. Not gasping for air.
Held.
Shadowman’s arms tightened around her. Touching her for the second time in her life. His skin brushed hers. His hair tangled on her shoulder. His breath was warm at her neck.
Their first union had led to this moment, when he had crossed to her world, disregarding fae laws so they could be together, to touch just once. They’d stolen time, defied Fate, and created new life. She had never regretted it. Not even now.
With the Twilight forest behind her, Kathleen looked on the world through a thickening veil. Her mortal body lay collapsed on the operating table, eyes glassy, unfocused. A doctor worked at her belly. His hand disappeared into her skin.
“. . . she’s in asystole. . . .”
“Kathy!”
The doctor eased a small form out of her womb. The baby filled his palm, her skin tinged slightly blue and smudged with a whitish paste. Her face was scrunched, beautiful, while her pink tongue touched air.
Her baby. Her little love. Talia.