Two knights of the Order and four mercs didn’t come back from the battlefield. My father’s chariot had been stripped and dismantled. The golden panels turned out to be real gold, which was completely unsurprising, knowing my father. The surviving mercs claimed it as spoils of war, and the Guild had made a fortune off it. We’d have no shortage of volunteers for the next battle.

A quarter of the Casino’s vampires were destroyed. Oddly, Ghastek didn’t seem concerned about it. He had this strange smile on his face when I talked to him about it. After I was done, he’d leaned toward me and said, “He fled.” I had a feeling that was all he cared about. Just when I thought I had Ghastek all figured out, he threw me a curveball. But he was right. No matter what we did or said, one inescapable fact remained. We had beaten my father. We won the battle. We didn’t win the war. The war was still coming. But we had beaten him this time. He lost.

I opened the oven. The smell of cooked bacon hit me. Mayday. I charged across the kitchen into the bathroom and threw up.

Oh no.

I cradled my stomach, reaching with my magic, gently, softly, and felt a tiny spark.

“Kate?” Curran said outside the door. “Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah. I’ll be a minute.”

I washed my mouth, splashed cold water on my face, and opened the door.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I’m pregnant,” I said.

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