Free CONCEPTION (The Others) by Sarah McCarty Page B

you
really think you can do this?”
    “I will not fail.” He was so unbelievably, blessedly,
recognizably sure.
    “Thank you.”
    “What bothers you, Edie?” His finger stroked along her
jawline sending tingles down her spine, weakening her muscles until it was
almost impossible to sit upright, dragging the confession past her will.
    “I don’t know if I can do this.”
    “You will not be alone.”
    She caught the promise and held it tightly as another wave
of weariness threatened to drag her under. No. He would never leave her alone.
The knowledge wove through the cold, empty hollows of her heart, brightening
the dark corners, warming the embers of emotions she’d thought dead.
    “They
might not leave you a choice.” Her hand fell from his wrist and her lids grew
impossibly heavy. She didn’t want to make decisions. She just wanted to lie
down and sleep for the next fifty years. She blinked quickly and tried to widen
her eyes. She caught a glimpse of Deuce’s frown before her lids closed again
and stayed that way. The comforter rustled as he sat beside her. Instead of an
argument, Deuce gave her his support, one hand moving behind her back while the
other slid around to the back of her head, completely taking over the
responsibility of her weight.
    “You
tire.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    He stood, taking her with him. The cool air in the room
struck her naked flesh as he shifted position, and then he was sitting back on
the bed, his chest and thighs offering welcome support for her torso.
    The floorboards creaked, and through slitted lids she saw
Bohdan lift the comforter from the bottom of the bed and drape it over her. It
felt as heavy as lead, too heavy. It slid to the left and her body wanted to go
with it, just flow down the path of least resistance.
    “Just a little more, Edie,” Deuce coaxed.
    She didn’t have it to give him. She was so tired her body
ached with the effort to sit upright. His fingers curled around her shoulder,
stroking gently on the tops of her breasts. “Relax. Let Bohdan in.”
    She cracked her eye. Bohdan stood by the head of the bed.
His dark eyes shimmered in the gloom. Energy reached out from him in a
seductive pulse. She should be terrified but there was something enticing about
that energy field, something good.
    Deuce bent his head to hers. His breath stirred her hair
above her ear, tickling her nerves. “You will let him in, my mate. I will not
allow your stubbornness in this matter.”
    “It’s really not your call.”
    “Everything about you is my call. You are—”
    She cut him off. “I know.” She sighed, dropping her head
back against his shoulder. “I’m your mate. That’s getting old, Deuce.”
    “Nonetheless, you will do what I say.”
    “Because you say so?”
    “Because it is your only hope.”
    Yes. It was. She took a deep breath. “Are you sure it’s
safe?”
    “Yes.” His lips brushed her forehead. “Lie against me, relax,
take slow deep breaths, and all will be fine.”
    “Relax, Eden,” Bohdan echoed in a voice as enticing as the
energy he projected. “Your mate is with you. He would never allow a betrayal of
your trust.”
    She took the ordered breath and braced herself for the uncomfortable
intrusion. She bit her lip at the first tentative touch of the healer’s mind.
Inside her head, deep inside, the protest began—only a scream she could hear,
only denial she could feel.
    “Your fear insults me.” The whisper was almost lost amidst
the protest of the “Voice”.
    Eden attempted her first mental response mostly because she
was too tired to form words. Deuce? You’re here, too?
    Though her effort sounded garbled and muffled to her, he understood.
“I would not leave you alone with your fear.”
    She caught his finger in her hand and squeezed, unable to
express the alien conflict inside that was so much more than fear. “I don’t
like this.”
    “I know.”
    “Think back now,” Bohdan interrupted in a swirl of color,
“as far