Free Night's Mistress (Children of the Night) by Amanda Ashley

couldn’t tell if he was human or one of us. Even with you . . . I can’t feel the bond between us anymore.”
    His hand tightened on the steering wheel. “I know.” The bond no longer went both ways, but because of the blood they had shared, he could still read her mind if he chose to do so, could sense her proximity even when they were apart.
    “I don’t want to be mortal again!” she exclaimed. “I don’t want a baby. A baby! What do I know about taking care of a baby?”
    “You don’t have to have it if you don’t want it.”
    She stared at him. He was talking about an abortion. It was an ugly word, and an ugly deed. She knew little about childbirth, but she had watched a documentary about abortion and wondered how anyone could kill a living fetus. She had done some brutal things in the course of her existence, but she had never preyed upon the young or the helpless. Or the unborn.
    Placing her hand over her stomach, she tried to imagine a child growing inside her womb. Kyle’s child. A little boy with her black hair and Kyle’s gray eyes. “No, not that.” She couldn’t kill her own child.
    “What are you going to do, then?”
    “I don’t know.”
    She didn’t want to be human again, didn’t know how to be human. She knew there were vampires who hated what they were, who spent their entire existence lamenting their lost humanity. They were among the most miserable creatures she had ever known. She had never been one of them. Once she’d accepted what had happened to her, she had made the most of it. True, she had killed her sire, not for turning her against her will, but for abandoning her once the deed had been done.
    Human again. How could she survive without her preternatural powers? Others of her kind had envied her strength and her longevity. In the course of her existence, she had made a good number of enemies. Secure in her strength, knowing she was virtually indestructible, she had blithely said and done as she pleased and to hell with the consequences. But now . . . now she had little supernatural strength. She was nearly as vulnerable as any mortal female. Even Ramsden had sensed it. In time, would she lose what little preternatural power she had left?
    She glanced at Logan. Should she have confided in him? Was she being foolish to trust him? She had never trusted anyone. How could she start now, when she was weak, helpless? If she wanted to survive, she was going to have to consider everyone her enemy. And what about her doctor? Dared she trust him? Vampires were notoriously suspicious of their own kind, jealous of their hunting grounds, protective of their lairs.
    She wondered how many of those she had turned were still alive, how many men she had thoughtlessly offended might still carry a grudge.
    She shrugged off her fears. Worrying wouldn’t solve anything. The world was a big place. She had rarely run into any of the men she had turned.
    Logan pulled into her driveway and cut the engine, then turned to face her. “Do you know who the father is?”
    “Of course!”
    He lifted one brow. “So, are you gonna tell me his name?”
    She shook her head. “You don’t know him.”
    “But he’s human?”
    “That’s a stupid question! Of course he is.”
    “So, where is he?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Does he know about the baby?”
    “No. And I’m not going to tell him,” she said, anticipating his next question. “Can we not talk about this right now?”
    Even though the bond between them was gone, Logan had no trouble reading her thoughts. She was worried, confused, and more distrustful than ever. He could hear the rapid beat of her heart, smell the panic she was trying to hide. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. She was treading where no vampire had journeyed before. It was bound to be disturbing. As for losing her powers, he couldn’t begin to imagine what that would be like, could scarcely remember what it had been like to walk the earth as a mortal man.
    Resting his