Peace Talks

Hungry.

 

"How did that happen?" I asked him.

 

He looked aside at me without turning his head and lifted his eyebrows. "Did no one ever have this talk with you?"

 

I scowled. "I mean, weren't you careful?"

 

"Yes," Thomas said. "And my kind are all but infertile to boot. Happened anyway."

 

"What happens now?"

 

"The usual, mostly. Except that the baby's Hunger will draw life energy from Justine. She's going to be fed upon continuously for the next seven and a half months."

 

I studied him. "Is that dangerous?"

 

He swallowed. "According to the family records, just over fifty percent either don't survive the delivery or die shortly after."

 

"Hell's bells," I said. I kept staring out at the water. Blue had given way to lighter blue and then to the first wash of gold. Chicago was starting to wake up around us. The burble of noise from the freeways had begun to escalate by slow degrees. Birds in the sanctuary at the end of the beach were beginning to sing.

 

"I don't know what to do," Thomas said. "If I lose her . . ."

 

He didn't continue. He didn't have to. There was a universe of pain residing in that ellipsis.

 

"You'll be fine," I said. "I'll help."

 

"You?" Thomas asked. A faint smile lightened his profile for a second.

 

"I'll have you know I've been a full-time dad for well over a month, and Maggie isn't dead yet. I clearly have mad parenting skills."

 

The smile faded. "Right. But . . . Harry . . ."

 

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Don't borrow trouble," I said. "There's plenty of that going around without looking for more of it. She needs taking care of. So whatever needs to happen, we'll do it."

 

He stared at me for a silent moment and nodded once.

 

"Meanwhile," I said, "you should probably focus on taking care of yourself so you can be