Page 68 of Blood, Bones, and the Bratva Bogeyman

“It’s early,” I rush. “I haven’t told Kon. Or Lucetta. I haven’t even allowed myself to say the words out loud in thehouse because I’m terrified it’ll echo back and the ghost will congratulate me.”

Sunni snorts, the sound strangled and affectionate. “I swear if Elara throws you a baby shower before I can, I’m stealing her ribbon.”

“She’s a spirit, Sun. She doesn’t have a corporeal body.”

She waves her hand dramatically. “Potato, Tomato.”

“Pretty sure that’s not the saying.”

“Hush,” she says, flicking my nose.

I snicker, feeling lighter now that my secret is off my chest. How the hell I’ve been able to hide it from Konstantin and our bond, I have no idea.

“How are you feeling about it?”

“Happy. Sad. Scared. My emotions are all over the place.”

“Good. I’d be worried if they weren’t. Pregnancy membership includes crying at commercials, wanting to stab people who drive too fast near crosswalks, and eating your feelings.”

“A cute dog caught a Frisbee, and I wept like it solved world hunger.”

“See? Hormone tax. Kon’s footing the bill.”

“Don’t tell him yet,” I say too fast.

Then I let my confession out. “We live in a world where blood is currency and bodies disappear in daylight. Where our ex-best friend is the fucking Reaper, and she’s out there building zombies out of addicts and leaving me presents like some twisted anti-Santa.”

Sunniva’s face sobers and she reaches for my hand.

“I don’t want to bring a baby into this darkness,” I whisper. “I’m already half-mad just keeping myself safe. How am I supposed to keep them safe?”

“I mean, your husband is literally the Bogeyman. I feel like that gives you a parental leg up on most people.”

“Sunni—”

“I get it, doll face,” she says gently. “But I also know you. You’re not just darkness, Cressi. You’re storm, and thunder, and fire. You’re the kind of woman who’ll raise a baby who bites back. The kind who’ll burn the street down to build a cradle. The kind who knows the law won’t help and decides to be the law anyway.”

I blink fast, because we’re not crying today. Not in my good mascara.

“That’s what Giselda says.”

“Let’s not let the sociopath take our slogans,” Sunni jokes.

“I’m afraid of what this will do to him,” I admit another fear.

“He loves you. That man worships the ground you walk on.”

“Exactly,” I whisper. “And if something happens to me? To the baby? He’ll burn the whole world down and take himself out with it.”

“Then let him,” Lucetta says, stepping into the room. “Let him burn it all down if it means keeping you safe. But don’t keep it to yourself. You’re not alone.”

“How much did you hear?” I ask with a groan.

“Enough to know that I’m officially pulling double duty,” she says with a wink.

I sigh. “I’m telling him soon.”

“When is soon?” Sunni asks.