Zevris clenched his jaw and turned his willpower against that insidious cold. The first rule of dealing with a crisis—even one that wasn’t yet confirmed to be a crisis—was to maintain calm. He returned to the messages screen just in case she’d responded and he’d somehow missed the alert.
She hadn’t.
Her phone was powered off. That seemed the likeliest explanation. Of course, that only brought up a much more troubling question—why?
It could’ve been as simple as Tabitha having forgotten to charge her phone overnight. Considering the way they usually spent their evenings together, it wasn’t difficult to imagine either of them neglecting to plug their phones in before heading into the bedroom. Or perhaps she’d turned it off while consulting with the doctor to avoid being rude.
But wouldn’t muting the phone have served just as well? And he recalled plugging in both their phones last night before they’d gone up to shower.
“There are many reasons why she’d turn her phone off,” he said as he stood up and walked away from the couch. He opened the map application to search for nearby walk-in clinics as he moved. He selected the geographically closest clinic from the list.
Why hadn’t he asked which one she’d intended to visit before she’d left?
“Svesh,” he growled before tapping on the clinic’s listed phone number.
After holding for a few minutes—pacing from the living room to the front door and back again repeatedly as he did so—he was finally patched through to speak with a receptionist. He asked for Tabitha Mathews.
He was informed that they had no patients, past or present, by that name.
Zevris numbly thanked the woman, lowered the phone, and ended the call.
That ice, heavy and unforgiving, was still inside him, permeating him, but his heartbeat only quickened. A terrifying notion lanced through his mind. Had she left him? Had she bided her time until the right opportunity had arisen so she could escape? He’d forced her into this, after all, and—
No. He immediately dismissed that thought for what it was—a symptom of panic. Tabitha was his lifemate. His trust in her was total, his love for her was true, and he knew that her love for him was real. She hadn’t run away.
There were other clinics in the area. She’d likely gone to a different one because of preference, or maybe because of something to do with the complex, convoluted health insurance system that only granted her a choice of certain approved providers.
He called the next clinic on the list and was given a similar answer as the first.
Releasing a strained breath through his nostrils, he tried calling Tabitha again. Her cheery tone on her prerecorded voicemail greeting was equal parts endearing and torturous now. It was a struggle not to crush the phone in his fist.
Zevris cycled through all the walk-in clinics within a ten-mile radius. A couple had Tabitha on record as a patient, but the hope that news had inspired was short-lived—both clinics also confirmed that she’d not been in today.
As his heart took on thunderous volume, Zevris engaged the phone-locating application and searched for Tabitha’s phone. Even when he took the risk and used his neural transceiver to hack the program and bypass its security, it could not discern the location of her phone. That failure only further supported that her phone wasn’t powered on.
Forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths, he threw on his boots, laced them, and stepped out through the front door. Tabitha’s car was neither in his driveway nor hers, suggesting she was not near. But he had to keep a clear head, had to cover all the possibilities, even those that seemed unlikely. Battling the urge to sprint, he walked to the front door of Tabitha’s residence and rang the doorbell.
As he waited—knowing she wasn’t there—he brought up a search for nearby hospitals and emergency rooms. He rang the bell again as he called the first place listed.
There was still no answer at the door, and the receptionist placed him on hold right after answering. He’d never heard music more obnoxious than that which played while he returned to his dwelling; the low sounds often cut out completely, while the high notes blared with piercing power that created feedback loops in the phone’s speaker more than once.
He was back in his kitchen by the time he was taken off hold, with Dexter staring at him from a reclined position on the living room floor.
That emergency room didn’t have any patients by Tabitha’s name. At this point, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved by that information or terrified. He wanted to find her, needed to find her, but if she was in a hospital…
That would mean she wasn’t fine, wouldn’t it?
For the next half hour, he called every emergency room and hospital listed. With each ended call, his dread grew heavier, his fear grew colder, and his chest and throat grew a little tighter. She was out there somewhere; she had to be. But where?
His breaths were short and ragged when he called OHSU Hospital. He was already anticipating the next place he’d contact afterward even as he dialed. He navigated the automated answering system, fighting back his mounting frustration with the primitive, unintuitive interface, until finally getting through to a living person.
“How can I help you?” the woman on the phone asked.
“I’m looking for a patient,” he said for what felt like the thousandth time. “Tabitha Mathews.”
“Just a moment, sir.”
Thankfully, there was no hold music this time, just the muted clicking of a keyboard and vague voices far in the background. But every passing second felt like one step closer to losing Tabitha. One step closer to her just being…gone.
“I’m not seeing any patients registered under that name.”
Something squeezed around Zevris’s heart, crushing it. His tongue slipped out to wet his dry lips, and his voice was rough when he said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the woman replied. “Have a good—Oh, hold on a second! I’m so, so sorry, sir. I was writing Mathews with two T’s. We do have a Tabitha Mathews who was checked in this morning.”
Zevris’s fingers flexed around the phone, and his body went utterly still for a few moments. It took that amount of time, brief but precious, to convince himself that he hadn’t misheard her, that he wasn’t imagining anything.
“Is she all right?” he asked. “Why is she there, what happened?”
“I’m not at liberty to disclose any information about her specific condition, sir, but she is listed as stable.”
He already had his vehicle keys in hand, was already racing to the front door. The woman on the phone said something more, but he didn’t hear her; he wasn’t even sure if he ended the call before he slammed the phone into his back pocket. None of that mattered. He knew where Tabitha was.
In all his time on Earth, Zevris had never driven as fast as he did to reach OHSU. He was hyperalert, leaning forward with both hands clutching the steering wheel in a death grip, eyes scanning ceaselessly for law enforcement. He passed other vehicles as though they weren’t moving at all. On any other day, he would have had a few choice words had he seen someone else driving like he was now. But he didn’t care.
His racing heart made his vehicle seem slow in comparison, and it refused to ease. Stable condition was good. It was also a vague term that didn’t mean anything—and such classifications were malleable. They could change at a moment’s notice.
Zevris arrived at the hospital in half the time the GPS navigation had initially estimated. He maintained just enough rationality to keep himself from screeching to a stop in front of the emergency room entrance, leaping out of his vehicle, and darting into the hospital. Finding a parking spot in a parking garage had never been as nerve-wracking an experience as it was now.
She’s fine. She’s in stable condition, and my Nykasha is fine.
He could barely keep himself from running as he entered the building and went to the front desk. Despite years of training to notice every detail, to be alert and aware of everything, he didn�
��t register a single aspect of the lobby or the human male who told him Tabitha’s room number and how to find it.
The elevator felt more like the coffins he’d seen in the western movie he’d watched with Tabitha—like A Fistful of Dollars. Tight and oppressive, built just large enough to contain him, to suffocate him. The emotions that had been tearing him apart had reached their peak now, and none of them could quite win out. He couldn’t be relieved, not until he knew Tabitha’s true condition, but he couldn’t be devastated because she was here, she was alive…
When the elevator finally stopped and the doors began to open, he slipped his hands into the gap and shoved them apart hard, pulling himself through. He strode down the hallway, eyes dead ahead save to periodically flick up toward the signs noting the room numbers.
He reached Tabitha’s room just as the door opened and a nurse in blue scrubs stepped out. She started when she looked up to see Zevris, her eyes widening.
“Tabitha Mathews,” he rasped. “This her room?”
The nurse nodded. “Are you family?”
The word mate very nearly came from his lips; he only just stopped it to instead say, “Her fiancé.”
“Has anyone notified you of her condition or what happened?”
Zevris shook his head. His muscles burned, protesting the fact that he was standing still; everything in him urged him to forget this female and enter the room to see the only one who mattered.
The nurse frowned. “She was in a car accident. As far as I know, she was driving through an intersection when another driver ran a red light. Her leg was pinned in the wreck and broken. Her wrist is sprained, and she’s got a lot of bruises and cuts and some shiny new stitches.”
Zevris pressed his lips together, his breaths coming quick and heavy through his nostrils, none of them seemingly providing him with enough air. “Is she all right?”
“She was in a lot of pain, but she’s asleep right now. She’s going to have some recovering to do, and she’s going to be off her feet for a while, but Tabitha and the baby are going to be fine.”
Eyes narrowing and brows falling low, Zevris glanced at the door before looking back at the nurse. “Baby?”
“Oh, no,” the nurse said, wincing. “I’m so sorry. I thought you would’ve known. Tabitha is pregnant.”
“I…”
If there were words he’d meant to say, words he could’ve said, they were nowhere to be found. He kept his eyes on the nurse, but his focus was on nothing.
Baby. A baby. Tabitha was pregnant. She was with child…
With his child?
He gestured vaguely toward the door, body and mind numb with shock. “Can I…can I go and…”
The nurse smiled and nodded. “You can. Just let her rest, all right? I’ll be back to check on her in a little while. If you two need anything, just press the call button.”
Zevris felt as though he were in a daze as he stepped into the room. The sound of the door closing behind him was distant and muted and yet thunderously close. If any of the equipment in the room made any noise, he couldn’t hear it.
He walked forward, feeling oddly weightless despite his limbs being heavy as blocks of lead. Tabitha lay upon a lone hospital bed that had its top angled up to support her. She was wearing some sort of simple hospital gown, and there was a blanket tucked up to her chest, covering everything but her arms—the left one was bruised and scratched, bound in a wrist brace—and her left leg, which was elevated and wrapped in a cast. There was more bruising on her face, a line of stitches on her forehead, and her skin looked even paler than normal.
As much as he hated seeing her like this, she was alive—and she was beautiful.
He sank onto his knees beside the bed, carefully gathering her right hand in both of his. She didn’t move, didn’t respond to his touch. He’d almost lost her. He’d almost lost his lifemate, and he might never have known it.
He’d almost lost his child without ever knowing there was a child to begin with.
Zevris bowed his head and kissed her hand tenderly, reverently, desperately. His mate and his child… Both here, both safe. She was hurt, and that made him sick to his stomach, but she would be okay. He’d make sure of it.
And their child would be born healthy, would live a long, happy life, would be loved and nurtured and taught everything its parents knew.
Had her pregnancy been the reason for her illness? Was it related somehow? Had she known about it, or would it be news to her, also?
When would she wake? When would he see those lovely green eyes again, when would he be able to bask in the radiance of her smile? This was all so much to take in, and it was all coming so quickly. He had so many questions, so many lingering concerns, so many more emotions than had already been assailing him…
But for now, he welcomed only one of those emotions, allowing it to finally rise above all the rest. Relief.
He released a long, shaky breath, and settled his forehead atop her hand, brushing his thumb along her wrist.
“I love you, Nykasha,” he whispered hoarsely. “Come back to me soon.”
Twenty-Nine
Tabitha was lost in a fog; it was impenetrably thick, stiflingly heavy, and still. So, so still. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been here—or where here was—but there was something important in the back of her mind, something stuck just outside her reach. Something she knew but couldn’t remember…
The fog lifted slowly, so slowly at first that she scarce noticed it was dissipating. But as its withdrawal became more apparent, pain crept in to take the place of that cloying sensation. That pain encompassed her entire body, sinking into her bones, throbbing like a heartbeat, growing so agonizing that she whimpered.
That whimper was the sound that woke her. Her eyes snapped open. She was staring up at a white ceiling, and everything in her hurt, from her head right down to her toes.
Where was—
“Tabitha,” Zevris rasped from beside her. One of his hands closed over hers, while the other gently brushed her cheek.
Zevris.
Oh God, the accident…
She turned her head toward him. There were hints of tension and worry on his face—his skin looked just a little pale, and there was a crease between his brows—but his eyes lit up as she met his gaze, and his lips curled into a smile.
“Tabitha,” he said again softly, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb.
“Zevris…” she whispered before she burst into tears. Her throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe, and her flowing tears stung the cuts they came into contact with. Crying was painful, but she couldn’t stop.
“Shh. You’re okay, Nykasha.” Zevris brushed away her tears with his thumb and pressed his lips to her forehead, then to her nose, to each of her cheeks, and finally her lips. He drew his head back and looked down into her eyes again. “I’m here.”
I’m alive.
For a few seconds, everything she’d felt in those fleeting moments before the accident came back to her—her excitement, her shock, her all-consuming fear. In that instant before the other car had struck hers, she’d thought she was about to die, that she would never see Zevris again, that he’d never know…
Her eyes widened. She shifted her hand to her belly and clutched it. “The baby. Oh God, the baby! Is our baby—”
“The baby is fine, Tabitha.” Once again, he covered her hand with his, squeezing gently. “Our baby is fine.”
That only made her cry harder. She twined her arms around Zevris’ neck and pulled him down. It hurt to do so, but she didn’t care. She needed him close, needed him to wrap his arms around her, to hold her. And he complied. She buried her face against his neck, her body trembling, and sobbed as he whispered soothingly to her in that deep, rolling voice of his.
Eventually, that torrent of emotions ebbed, and the flow of tears ceased, leaving her sniffling but calm. She loosened her hold on him.
Turning her face slightly, she kissed his jaw. “We
’re compatible.”
He pulled back to meet her gaze. Even though he had his disguise on, she swore there was just a hint of that blue glow in his eyes, which were already bright with love. “And I am ecstatic about that.” With overwhelming tenderness, he traced her features with the pads of his fingers. “But even if we weren’t, this would still be my happiest moment.”
For the first time Tabitha had ever seen, Zevris’s eyes glistened with moisture—with tears of his own.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he said, voice raw. “Knowing you are alive, that you are safe, means more to me than anything else. Baby or no, you are my mate. My love and devotion are yours forever.”
Tabitha reached up and cupped his face. The bristles on his jaw tickled her palm. She smiled wide. “I love you so much.”
He flashed her a smile in return.
She sniffled and laughed softly. “You’re going to be a daddy.”
Zevris slid one of his hands down to her belly. That smile of his only widened. “And you are going to be a mother. The most amazing, beautiful, caring mother on this world or any other.”
Though Tabitha’s entire body felt like one giant bruise, and the ride home from the hospital was far from the most comfortable drive of her life, Zevris’s attentiveness and care ensured it wasn’t also the most painful. He kept a steady speed on the freeway, braked early to avoid jarring stops, and eased through every turn with the finesse of a man who’d been driving a for decades rather than a single year.
Of course, all his control and caution didn’t stop her from tensing up whenever another vehicle passed them. She had closed her eyes every time they stopped at a red light or a stop sign just to diminish the fear that made her chest tight and twisted her insides into knots when they started moving again.
She’d been fortunate that her injuries weren’t more severe, fortunate that her leg hadn’t required surgery to repair, fortunate that she’d only had to spend three days in the hospital, though those three days hadn’t been nearly enough to shake the mental trauma of the accident. She knew that would take more time, but she was confident that she’d get there eventually, and Zevris would help her along in every way he could.
Taken By The Alien Next Door Page 33