Page 75 of Demon Unleashed

For what seemed like an eternity, Zoltan’s heart stood still. Enya was offering him the ultimate proof of love. And what could he give her in exchange? A whole world of unhappiness, because if she was bonded to him, her people would cast her out. They would never accept a demon among their midst. If he accepted her offer, he would be condemning her to a life in exile, a life away from the people she loved. She would never be safe: the moment the demons discovered that she was carrying his child, they would hunt her down, and without friends, without allies, it wouldn’t take long until the demons would kill them both and cut the child from her womb.

“We can’t do that,” he said. When their eyes met, he saw the hurt. The disappointment. But before she could free herself from his arms, he added, “Because it means you’ll lose your people’s protection. They’ll never accept me. They’ll cast you out. All you’ll have is me to protect you. It won’t be enough against the hordes of demons who’ll be on our ass. You can’t possibly want that.” He released her and looked down to her flat stomach. He reached out and touched her there. “I want our child to live, even if I can never see it, never touch it, never feel its life force. This child is innocent. Don’t let us drag it into this war.”

Enya, whose gaze had followed his hand, now looked up at him, a strange expression on her face. “It’s not the heartbeat. That’s the wrong translation.” She appeared as if she was talking to herself. “Charles and Wesley were wrong. It’s not the heartbeat.”

“What are you talking about?” Zoltan said, concern for Enya’s wellbeing crawling up his spine.

She gripped his biceps. “Charles and Wesley, the two witches I consulted in San Francisco to find a way to turn you back into a Stealth Guardian, found something. A story told by the gypsies. A story about a demon who was redeemed.”

“A story? Oh, Enya, there are lots of fairy tales going around.” And he didn’t want to get his hopes up, nor did he want to crush hers, so he added, “Tell me what the story said.”

“When the demon felt the heartbeat of his own innocent flesh and blood,” she recited, “his soul wept and gave him back his true self.” She squeezed his arms. “But they translated it wrong. It’s not the heartbeat. It’s the child’s life force. It’s its virta. And the only way you feel your child’s virta is during the bonding, because only then will you not only receive my virta, but also that of our child. Your own innocent flesh and blood.”

Zoltan ran a shaky hand through his hair. “This is crazy.” But what if it was true? What if it worked? He suddenly realized that the question he’d had before, whether he could give up the power of the Great One, didn’t even figure into his calculation. All that mattered now was one thing: “And if it doesn’t work, if I remain a demon, what will happen to you and the child?”

Enya smiled. “You’ll be my mate. And we’ll deal with whatever we’re up against.”

Zoltan took a strand of her blond locks and brushed it out of her face. “I’ve never met a woman braver than you.” He pulled her to him. “Nor sexier.”

“Is that a yes?”

Zoltan smirked. “Is that a proposal?”

“Yes.”

“What took you so long?”

Enya rolled her eyes. “It’s traditionally the man’s job.”

“Enya, babe, I doubt our relationship will ever be a traditional one. But I’m good with that. As long as I can call you mine, I’m good with anything.” He paused for a moment. “I’d also be good with a shower right now—the stink of the Underworld is still clinging to me.”

She smirked. “Under one condition: I get to join you.”

“That can be arranged.”