Rory raised an eyebrow. How so? he asked, helping her sit up. She could feel his slight amusement. You are saying you have not participated in any sexual activity at all?
The combination of irritation and chagrin pouring through her left her shaking and weepy feeling. No, I’m saying we’ve taken precautions. I’ve only been with Azellians.
So? Rory asked. We are fully fertile with humans. As I’m told you know quite well, since you’re half-human.
Tamara could feel the blush crawling up her cheeks, and she suddenly wished it were Greg crouched beside her. He already knew the tangled web they’d woven between them. An awful awareness suddenly spread through her. Whose child is it? Alarin’s? Or, God forbid, Merran’s? Her mind raced to do some very important calculations. How far along? she managed to ask, thickening her shielding enough that she didn’t completely leak out everything about their bizarre relationship.
Ten weeks or so, Rory replied clinically, and she felt warmth spread through her body again. Her emotions didn’t calm down any, but she felt a sudden giddy sense of dizziness, as though she could reject the knowledge with every atom in her body. In the middle of that, she sensed an odd weakness, a spreading desire to protect the tiny thing that made her body so alien. How had she not noticed that her period hadn’t come? Vacation—she hadn’t noticed on vacation that what was due never showed up, then the upheaval of her breakup with Merran … ten weeks? Could her body have changed so much in ten weeks without her knowing it? Except—was it really a total surprise? Hadn’t her emotions been all over the place in the past month or so? She’d definitely become more insecure since the new semester began. Was this the reason why? She trembled, despite the soothing warmth of Rory’s hand on her forehead and the long clean strokes of his other hand through the roils of her aura.
Don’t tell Alarin, she begged Rory, as a fresh round of tears threatened.
It’s not going to take long for him to figure it out, Rory replied neutrally. I’m surprised he hasn’t already. He’s going to hear an echo. To say nothing of the fact that you’re going to start showing signs of it, if you haven’t already.
Tamara swallowed hard. It’s not fair, she sent to him. I’m only twenty-one. Too young for this. I haven’t even finished college. I can’t have a baby now.
Rory studied her. You know you can terminate it, he said, his voice still expressionless. He didn’t seem like he cared one way or another.
No, Tamara said sharply, as she reacted violently to that thought. A surge of protectiveness washed through her. I can’t. Her mind sank slowly to touch that other cradled in her abdomen. Helpless, unable to even survive on its own, the fetus seemed to beg for her protection.
You will not have long to hide this from Alarin. If he hasn’t figured it out just watching, Rory said, leaning back on his heels. He pulled his hands back.
Wait, Tamara sent to him. Can you tell the paternity of the baby yet?
Rory’s eyebrow went up.
Don’t ask. It’s … complicated. Tamara said. A memory bubbled up, and she had to shield hastily to prevent Rory from reading it. About ten weeks ago, she’d been at the end of finals. Alarin hadn’t been quite as vocal about his jealousy at that point. And Merran. Well, suffice it to say, she hadn’t really counted it as time with Merran, since it had taken place between two meetings and not been entirely satisfying. He was distracted by work and she too nervous about the timing and the location to relax entirely. It could have led to this, though, as easily as the more leisurely encounters between her and Alarin. Can you tell?
No, Rory replied. Not yet. It’s not developed enough yet.
But you’ll be able to tell later, won’t you? Tamara asked, anxiety pouring through her. The speed at which her emotions raced through her left her unbalanced and uncomfortable.
We could guess, he answered after a brief hesitation. It will be much easier if you wait for the baby to be born. She or he is going to show a mental array that will be visible to those of us who can see it.
Doesn’t that have to wait until puberty? Tamara asked, remembering Greg’s lessons.
It’s easier at puberty, unmistakable. If I tried it at the birth, I’d be guessing, but Alarin’s mental array is quite distinct, so I could probably tell you whether or not he is the father, Rory answered, slowly, as if thinking through the reply. Although you have human blood, so I’m not sure how that will affect the fetus and its psi development.
What do you do in cases like this? Tamara asked, belatedly remembering Greg’s mention of something about Festival and babies that were sometimes born nine months later.
Judge by the mental array at birth, by the talents the mother sometimes takes on of the child’s during the pregnancy, Rory replied. The final assessment is done at puberty and Awakening. After a brief pause, during which Tamara was almost certain he was thinking through several possible responses, or anticipating a reaction from her, he continued. You could always go to the hospital and have a paternity test done. Your science is quite adept at these sorts of things.
No! Tamara protested. That would mean telling her father, her family, Alarin, and God forbid, Merran. What the hell would Merran do with the awareness that he had a kid? How did Azellians slip up anyway? Are you sure I’m pregnant? she asked, still trying to deny what she knew deep down inside as truth.
Yes.
I still don’t know how it could have happened, Tamara muttered. I didn’t think Azellians could have unwanted pregnancies.
Accidents happen, Rory replied with a shrug. Particularly when one or the other isn’t paying attention. Or both. He stood up. “She’ll be fine,” he told Alarin in Azellian, leaving Tamara to shield herself from the other Azellians crowded around them. They were starting to draw a crowd of humans too. “We should probably get her inside, though. It’s really rather cold out here.”
Alarin leaned down to help her up, using a combination of arms and psi to help her stand. She felt fine, completely normal, belying the dizziness that had washed over moments earlier. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked, hugging her tightly to his body.
Rory looked at her.
“I’m fine, Alari,” she replied. “Just a bit dizzy. We did forget to eat this morning,” she reminded him. We’ll talk about it later, she added on Alarin’s private level.
He wasn’t mollified by her verbal explanation, but he respected her mental request. “Let’s grab something to eat now then.”
Tamara was abruptly ravenous. “Yes, let’s,” she agreed, and the group of them made their way inside the Tabor Center to get some food before the parade got underway.
Food helped her physically, but did nothing to soothe her mental or emotional state. As she picked at her breakfast sandwich, Kari leaned over and said, “Let’s go to the bathroom.” She turned to Damiar. “Be right back. You guys be fine on your own?”
“Of course,” Damiar said, sounding amused.
Alarin gave Tamara a sharp look, and she knew he was not going to settle for her evasions too much longer. Kari’s invitation gave Tamara a chance to escape, though, so she took it. She got to her feet and followed Kari to the bathroom.
At the door of the women’s room, however, she shook her head and pulled Kari toward a sheltered area far enough from the bathroom that she didn’t have to smell it. It must be the pregnancy, she thought. Her sense of smell had suddenly gone haywire and it was making her feel sick again. “Too smelly in there. Let’s talk over here, by this plant. Unless you do have to go to the bathroom?”
“No, I’m fine. What’s going on, Tam?”
Tamara shook her head, not ready to admit to the magnitude of her mistake. “What’s up with you and Damiar?” she asked. “I thought you hated him.”
“Hated? No, I never hated him, Tam. I was hurt, yes, but he apologized.” A smile tugged at her lips. “He was very sweet about it.”
“So what about his girlfriend on Azelle?”
“It’s over. He told me that he broke it off
after what happened between us. He didn’t mean for it to get as far as it did, but after it happened, it made him realize that things weren’t going so well with his girlfriend after all. I really like him, Tam. He’s a great guy.”
Alarin had said something similar. Tamara felt herself relax slightly. “Okay, if you’re sure. I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Kar.” Tears built in her eyes, startling her with their intensity.
Kari hugged her. “I know, and I appreciate it. Now tell me what’s going on with you.”
Tamara stared at the potted tree beside them, the leafy foliage providing a comforting sense of the outdoors. It was a real plant, surprisingly, and looked happy enough in its location. If there weren’t heavy clouds threatening snow outside, it would have been sunny in this corner. Gathering her courage, she hugged her arms around her middle and opened her mouth, then closed it again.
“What? What is it?” Kari asked.
Tamara shuddered, and the tears building in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. “Oh, God, Kari, I’ve wrecked my life!” She buried her head in her hands, fighting to hold on to what composure she could.
Kari grabbed her arms, pulling her hands away from her face. “How? What do you mean? What are you talking about? Wrecked your life?”
“I … I … I’m pregnant.” She forced the words out, somehow, past the rock in her throat. She took a sobbing breath and shivered.
Kari stared at her, open-mouthed, for a good ten seconds. If she hadn’t been so upset, Tamara might have found it amusing. Her friend let her go, slowly, staring down at her stomach. “You’re pregnant?” She blinked at her. “How? I thought … I thought you said Azellians took care of stuff like that themselves.”
Kari might be a good friend, but considering she didn’t know about the tangled mess of her relationship with Alarin and Merran, Tamara wasn’t about to tell Kari that she had no idea which young man was the actual father. She took in another sobbing breath and let it out slowly, trying not to slide into hysterics, although the temptation was strong. “They do, unless … well, mistakes happen with them, too, apparently.”
“What are you going to do?”
Tamara shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” She hugged her arms tighter around her middle. It was hard, not really showing yet, but she could imagine that she could feel it. A baby bump. She was going to have a baby bump … one day very soon. Another shudder ripped through her body.
“Have you told Alarin yet?”
“No, I just found out myself this morning.”
“This morning … you mean, outside, when you fainted? You found out then, when Rory was helping you?”
“Yeah.”
Kari gave her a hug. “You’re holding it together really well then. I think I would be a crying mess right about now.”
Tamara made a sound that was closer to a groan than a laugh. “I’m not a crying mess?” She wiped her hand over her wet cheeks and showed Kari her fingertips.
Kari laughed and brushed Tamara’s hair back from her face. “No, I’d say you’re handling it beautifully. You’re standing here, talking normally, and not in the corner having hysterics.”
“It’s tempting,” Tamara admitted. “To be in the corner having hysterics, I mean. If I thought it would get me anywhere, I might try it.”
“Are you going to keep it?”
Tamara pressed her hand against her stomach. “I … don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Of course, you’d want to talk to Alarin first. After all, it’s his child, too. I never liked those girls who think that it’s only their responsibility, only their bodies.”
Tamara scowled. “That’s not why I’m not sure,” she muttered. “He’s not the one who is going to have to go through pregnancy and childbirth. In my opinion, he’s got no say in what I choose to do with this child.” Though she didn’t know whether it was Merran or Alarin who was responsible for her condition, she did know it was her choice to do what she wanted, no matter who contributed the sperm that had resulted in this mess.
“You’re going to tell him, though, aren’t you?”
Tamara shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Tam, you have to. Alarin’s a good guy. He’ll want to help.”
Will he? Especially with the question of paternity? If Merran is the father, will Alarin take responsibility? she wondered. Will I even want him to? If the baby was Alarin’s, she suspected Kari was right about Alarin’s reaction and desires, but she couldn’t introduce the question, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Tamara pressed her lips together. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s go.” She turned on her heel and made her way back to where Alarin, Damiar, Rory, and Sharynn waited for them.
What happened? Alarin asked on her intimate level, as she and Kari came back to the table, the strong tone coming through that usually meant he was willing to use his coercive talent if he had to. Tamara privately thought of it as his “bossy” voice. It usually annoyed her, but today, she didn’t care. She had more things to worry about than whether or not Alarin was trying to push her around.
Not a good time to discuss it, Tamara sent back. Not in front of everyone.
Watching her steadily, he looked like he might give in, but she’d forgotten about the Azellian ability to easily read a full human, and Kari, still in the throes of her own emotional reaction to Tamara’s news, was easy for every Azellian at the table to read. Tamara knew she’d made a mistake—she should not have told Kari in public, around the other Azellians—as soon as the expression of shock and disbelief crossed his face.
Rory got to his feet. “Come on, Kari, Damiar, Sharynn. Let’s leave them alone.” He glanced at them over a shoulder. “She is physically fine,” he told Alarin, placing a slight emphasis on the word physical, before he ushered the others out the door.
Alarin was silent for a few minutes after the others left. “Is it true?”
“Rory says it is,” she said, feeling cold and miserable. She slumped on the cold plastic of the chair. “He’s a Healer, so he probably knows what he’s talking about.” She knew she sounded sullen, but she didn’t try to modulate her tone.
Alarin shifted in his chair. “Is it mine?”
Tamara shrugged noncommittally. “Rory couldn’t tell yet.”
“How far along?”
“Ten weeks.”
Alarin was silent as he did some mental calculations. “It might not be, then.”
“It might not.” She felt frozen, as if the cold from outside had seeped into her whole body. Her lips were numb. “Does it matter?”
Alarin was quiet for a moment. “Does it matter to you?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” At least he wasn’t angry, Tamara thought. He had a touchy temper sometimes, but he seemed to be very controlled right now. Of course, her own emotions were in such a mess she wasn’t sure she could have heard any of his emotional upheaval if she tried.
“What are you going do?”
“Why does everyone ask me that? I don’t know.” The first hints of anger made her say the words far more sharply than she intended. Tears would be hard on the heels of anger, so Tamara pushed her chair back. She didn’t want to cry in public. “I want to go home.”
Alarin got up too, and for the first time, she saw uncertainty in him. “I can take you home, if you want.”
She stood there, feeling isolated and alone, and terrified. “I’d like that. Please.”
He came around the table. “Can I hold you for a minute?” he asked, his voice especially soft.
Tamara shook her head. “When we get home, please,” she said, feeling the tears constrict her throat. “If you touch me right now, I’m going to burst into tears … or scream. I’m not sure which, and neither is appropriate in public.”
He nodded and did no more than support her with his telekinetic abilities as they headed for the car, then home to where Tamara could come unglued in private.
Chapter 6
Late one
morning, after he’d escaped into the mountains for some much-needed rest, the ringing of his personal cell phone dragged Merran out of a sound sleep. Rubbing his eyes and trying to chase the cobwebs from his mind, he stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen to grab the phone. Glancing at the blinking numbers on the screen, he frowned. The number was not Ketiana’s, unless she was calling from a location he didn’t know about.
“Hello?” he answered the phone in English rather than Azellian, just in case the caller was someone other than Ketiana.
“Merran,” Alarin said. Merran could hear the strain in his voice over the phone. His friend had not used the video function to call, so Merran couldn’t see Alarin’s stress, but it was clear enough that something wasn’t right, even without visual confirmation.
“What happened?” Merran asked in Azellian, automatically reaching out with his mind across the miles that separated them to brush up against solid shields that only imperfectly covered the churning concern underneath.
“Where are you?” Alarin responded in Azellian, but he ignored the invitation and the touch of Merran’s mind. “Ketiana wouldn’t say.”
“Not far actually. In the mountains. On a much-needed vacation. What’s happened?”
Alarin took a deep breath. “I thought you might want to know that Tamara’s in the hospital.”
“What?” Merran demanded. “When? Where?”
“She’s at Denver Mercy,” Alarin replied slowly, as if the words were being dragged from him. He kept his shields high and tight, relying instead on spoken words. “They’re keeping her in the hospital on enforced bedrest. I ... it wasn’t easy for me to decide to call you,” he admitted, his tone almost hostile, but Merran could clearly read the fear and worry behind the hostility. Alarin didn’t often leak through his well-developed shields, but he was most certainly doing it now.
Merran hesitated for a moment. He knew what he wanted to do, but he also knew that his relationship with Alarin depended on his next actions. “Do you want me to come down?” he asked, carefully putting a relaxed note into his voice that he didn’t feel. Tamara was in trouble, but he had to take the time to dance around Alarin’s sensibilities. He knew he should be amazed that Alarin had called him at all—and he was—but Merran didn’t know quite what to make of it.
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