Free Blood Bond (Anna Strong Chronicles #9) by Jeanne C. Stein

back under those covers.”
    Mom seems reluctant. “I want to go downstairs. See Daniel and meet his son.”
    “And they want to see you. But there will be plenty of time for that. Right now, it’s just you and me. And I want to know how you’re doing. How you’re
really
doing. What do the doctors say? And if you want me to call in a specialist for a second opinion or—”
    But Mom has my left hand in both of hers, her eyes suddenly as sparkling and bright as the ring she’s examining. “Oh. Anna. Does this mean—? You and Daniel?”
    I nod. “Did you ever think you’d see the day?”
    And then we’re both laughing and crying and clinging to each other and for one joyous moment in time, we are just mother and daughter. No intruding thoughts of vampire, no desolate thoughts of illness or death.
    Frey was right. Being here, sharing good news, was the best present I could give her.

CHAPTER 9
     
    M OM INSISTS ON COMING DOWN FOR LUNCH. she also insists she doesn’t need help getting dressed and like Dad an hour or so before, shoos me out to check on how Frey and John-John are settling in.
    The room next to Trish’s has been set up for John-John, a small, comfortable nook of a room that shares a Jack-and-Jill bath with Trish’s. When I peek in, Trish is helping him unpack and the two are chattering as if they’ve known each other forever. I catch bits of a conversation about horses and how Trish is learning to ride at the estate next door. John-John’s thoughts are on accompanying her to her next lesson. They are obviously hitting it off.
    I find Frey unpacking in the room that has always been designated as mine when I’ve come to visit. It’s on the opposite end of the hall from my parent’s, another corner room, this one overlooking side gardens of boxy shrubs and grass and an ancient oak, under which sprawls a large rectangular wooden table. Dubbed the “outside dining room,” it’s where my family takes most of their meals in nice weather.
    Frey looks up when I enter and waits until I’ve closed the door behind me to ask, “How is your mother?”
    I join him next to the bed and help him ferry clothes back and forth to an open dresser drawer, composing my thoughts before answering.
    “In some ways, she doesn’t seem sick at all,” I say finally. “She’s as bright and funny and excited about our being here as ever.” I flash my ring. “You should have seen the smile on her face when she saw this.” I sigh. “But she’s lost a lot of weight and most of her hair. She seems so fragile. And you remember how she was at school.”
    Frey nods. “Strong as steel. Unbreakable.” He draws me to him. “It’s good that we’ve come.”
    The sob I swallowed back at first seeing my mother rises to the surface again. This time, I don’t hold it back. I press my face into Frey’s chest and give in to it. His arms tighten around me and he rests his head on the top of mine, holding me while I cry.
    He knows me. Knows this will be the only display of emotion I’ll allow myself. Knows only with him will I give in to despair. It’s up to me to be the unbreakable one now. For Dad. For Trish.
    The sobs send tremors through my body, tremors he steadies with arms offering support and consolation. When I can’t cry anymore, when I’m spent and quiet, he still holds on. I don’t let go, either, wondering why it took me so long to recognize that it is Frey, has been Frey, since the very moment we met.
    I pull back a little, to wipe my tear-and-snot-smeared face with the back of my hand. “I must look great.” But it’s not what I want to say.
    Frey is smiling at me, his hands touch my cheek and I know what he’s about to say. He has the kind of look in his eyes that means he’s getting ready to say something sappy like
You will always be beautiful to me
. I stop him before he can, wrapping my arms around him.
    “Why did I waste so much time?” I ask, voice breathless with anger and frustration. “There