Vhalencia stepped forward and brushed my arm. I marveled at her lyrical Spanish accent. “My dear, sweet one. De Queen Civetateo, of course. Stealing humans against dheir wills is not acceptable. But it certainly wouldn’t be the first time in history it’s happened. Each species has dheir own queen, and it is up to dhem if an actual crime has been committed. If one has, normally dhat person is subject to the dhrone for a period of time to conduct the royal bidding, but it’s better dhan dying, don’t you dhink?”
Devden spoke with a thick, East Indian accent. “Think of it this way. If it weren’t for supernatural beings on this planet, the human race would have destroyed itself centuries ago. We have helped mankind survive many times over. Who do you think stopped the inquisitions and the wars? Humans are idiots, and they’re on their way to blowing up the planet again. It won’t be long until there is another intervention. Queen Civetateo has seen to that.”
Briggs rubbed his hands together. “It’s all right, ma chére. Don’t you worry yourself about dzis untidy business, oui? My father notified the Draconian Council in this district. It’s all ’andled. You need to go ’ome to Sheridan. I’m going to Tibet to be with family for a while.”
I followed his eyes as he gazed up at the truck. “Truthfully, Chey Chey … I need time to process dzis stuff with Dakota. I’m going to see if I can dig up any dirt about who owns dzat island.” Wincing, he took as deep a breath as his incision would allow and tried to sit up straighter in his chair. He bent his face toward his lap, and before he brought up his head, his hand had wiped away tears he wanted no one to see but me.
“Hey, you take it easy, and don’t worry about anything, okay?” I attempted to keep the energy positive for him and found that practiced smile Amicula always used on me. “But you let me know if you need anything if you want to get out of Tibet.”
I stood up and glared over at Miss Mother Hen, shielding my eyes from the sun reflecting off Briggs’ wheelchair. I was pretty sure she was angling the handle to blind me. Secretly, I worried if Kalina wasn’t something of an Annie Wilkes character from Misery. Visions of Kalina cutting off his legs to keep her brother captive filled my thoughts while I challenged her deep brown eyes. I gave Briggs a wry half-smile as Devden helped load him into the truck.
“Thank you. I’m sorry you had to go through all this. Don’t worry about any of the hospital expenses. The company has it covered. Not sure we can claim it on workman’s comp, though. We’ll have to file it under hazardous duty pay. Can you imagine the insurance audit we would get?”
My voice failed me as thoughts of Dakota pooled into my eyes.
He tried to give me a deep belly laugh, but the pain was too much. He cupped my chin up in his hand. “Dzere is a massive ’ole in my ’eart I fear may never be filled. ’Ell, I don’t even get dze pleasure of eating Ludovic after all dzis—and I had the perfect recipe!” He hugged me with the gentleness of a kitten as I touched his face. We both smiled. I was sure I heard Kalina growl low into the back of her throat while she slammed closed her driver’s side door.
Khaldon shook Briggs’ hand and said, “I’ll see you again soon, my friend. Oh, I almost forgot your souvenir. Here’s the dragon scythe. Thought you might want this. I am anxious to learn more about this magical blade. There’s an interesting marking here on the bottom of the hilt. I took a rubbing of it to see if I can trace it back to its origins.”
Briggs examined the scythe blade. “Looks Norse to me. Torchy, do you recognize this rune?”
Briggs passed the scythe to Torchy.
“Aye, I do. This blacksmith had a sense of humor, he did. This rune is called Kauma, which means ulcer. Surely gave yin one of those, didn’t it?”
Briggs grimaced and nodded. His eyes revealed creased edges of worry into his brow.
Torchy handed Devden the scythe. “What do you think of this?”
Devden studied the rune engraved in the blade. “The meaning usually involves mortality and pain to whoever is unlucky enough to receive its gifts. Whoever commissioned to magically enhance this blade knew their Norse history and where to strike a dragon.”
Everyone stood quiet and stared at the odd knife.
Torchy handed it back to Briggs. “You keep it. I dinnae want that bad juju hangin’ around.”
Briggs accepted the knife and scraped a splotch of dried blood off the hilt. The monogrammed letters DLR emerged. He creased his brow and then placed the blade on the seat between him and Kalina.
Devdan collapsed the wheelchair and loaded it into the bed of the pickup truck.
Through the rolled down window, Briggs reached out and took hold of Torchy’s forearm. “I cannot thank you enough for helping me. I am forever indebted to you and to your selfless kindness.”
Torchy saluted him. “Aye, if any of my old memories pop up, just squash them, will ya? I dinnae need any jokes of when I was a wee one and learning to fly.” Torchy flattened his lips and shook his head, possibly recalling a long forgotten memory. “Weren’t a proud sight. That’s all I can say.”
Briggs tried to laugh once again, but held his abdomen and grinned. “Indeed, I too remember those days. I am forever indebted to your soul, my brother.”
“It has been a delight meeting you, mademoiselle. Sir. I hope to see you again one day.” Briggs addressed Devden and Vhalencia.
Devden nodded his head and waved.
“Señor Briggs, it was a pleasure.” Vhalencia warmed the bitter cold of separation between us all.
“If I don’t hear from you in a month—I’m coming after you.” I glanced over at Kalina, letting her know my comment was directed more toward her than it was to him. “I’ll keep you abreast on what kind of memorial services we’ll hold for Dakota. I have no idea when or where. Hell, I’m scared to death just to tell the rest of the family.”
He summoned up a wry smile for me and nodded. “I do not envy you that moment, Chey Chey.”
He then sent me a mind message in my head. I will always be able to contact you, Cheyenne. We have an established link. Thank you for everything. Contact me if you need anything.
I snapped my eyes up to his. He winked at me with his blue opalescent orbs. I’d forgotten the communication bond link we’d shared when he was in dragon form. I felt a ton better knowing he was also going to be all right.
A remake of Pat Benatar’s song, “Heartbreaker” by Heaven Below screamed out of the speakers as Kalina revved up the engine and raced out of the parking lot. The ambulance Harris was in had also pulled out to take him to the poison center.
I wrapped my arms around my chest, my heart aching.
Will I ever see them again?
Chapter Eleven
Orlando Hospital ~ Florida
Cheyenne O’Cuinn
The doors to the elevator couldn’t close fast enough. I swore I could have run the emergency stairs faster than the lift moved. Finally, the chime rang and granted us passage to the maternity ward on the eighth floor. I bolted to the nurses’ station while Khaldon pushed Torchy in a wheelchair.
“Sheridan O’Cuinn. What room?” I didn’t even wait for an answer—I stared at the patients’ board behind the computers and found her name assigned to room 813. I ran down the hallway, the nurse hot on my heels.
“Miss, miss! I’m sorry, but you’ll have to prepare. You can’t just go in there—she’s in isolation.”
I stopped on the balls of my feet just outside her door. It wasn’t an ordinary room. It had an observation window with glass partitions and hanging curtains.
I peered through the glass. “What’s going on? What do I need to do?”
“Is that you, Cheyenne?”
Refocusing my attention on the nurse, I blinked. “Ruthie Anne?”
I recognized her as the grandmotherly nurse who had taken care of me. I was in this very hospital, recovering from my rogue vampire attack a few months ago, and Ruthie Anne was the best nurse on staff. I simply loved her. She’d taken amazing care of me, and I knew she would
be excellent with Sheridan.
Ruthie Anne lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you Sheridan’s sister?”
I hugged her, and it wasn’t just a pat, pat, pat hug. It was a full-bodied bear hug. “Yes, it’s wonderful to see you again. Are you her nurse, too?”
“I’ll tell the OB-GYN nurse that we’re prepping you.” She hugged me back and put her hand under my chin. “My, how well you’ve come back from the dead. I just can’t believe it.”
If she only knew.
“What do I need to be prepped for?” I scanned through the glass wall to try and find Sheridan.
Khaldon and Torchy caught up to us. “Cheyenne, listen—this might not be easy for you to accept. Most likely what’s happening is she’s in massive labor pains because the babies are ready, but her body isn’t. She may have to have a Cesarean-section.”
I slowed my thoughts and considered what Khaldon said. I massaged my temples trying to evade that sick headache nagging in the back of my eyes.
A C-section! I’m glad we got here when we did.
Ruthie Anne asked, “Are either of you two gentlemen the father?”
I looked up at Khaldon. He ran a stressed hand through his hair. “I am, but I don’t think it’s appropriate I’m in there with you, Cheyenne.”
I nodded in agreement but was saddened by the circumstances. This was too surreal—as if we were in the Middle Ages, where men didn’t go into the birthing rooms. They stayed outside in waiting lounge areas and passed out cigars of congratulations while the women did all the labor-intensive work.
But that wasn’t the case with this odd, cantilevering family.
Khaldon and Sheridan had been vicious victims of kidnapping, rape, and insemination. Neither of them had ever even met until it was discovered they were going to be parents.
My first instinct was to keep him out, but I thought it better to ask Sheridan what she wanted to do. “I’m not sure either one of you should be in there. Torchy, I know you love her, but I’ll ask her what she wants to do, okay? I’m sure Daddy could use a break anyway.”
Torchy slapped Khaldon on the back. “No worries, we’ll go out and find ourselves a few Cuban Montecristo cigars and keep Kiernan company.” He grinned at me. “We can wait—it’s what is best for Sheridan. That’s what’s important.”
We all knew Torchy was joking at the seemingly sexist decision we’d made, but I was less nervous knowing that my sister wasn’t going to have to show off her girly bits.
I turned to Ruthie Anne, “Okay—what do I need to do?”
Ruthie Anne curled her index finger at me. “C’mon, I have just the thing for you—but you better hurry. She’s not long now.”
Within ten minutes, I emerged sanitized and suited up in scrubs, finally able to see her. Sheridan lay quietly in a warm Jacuzzi bath with an oxygen cannula in her nose while perusing a parenting magazine.
“Well, you don’t look any worse for wear.” Knowing I had made it in time, my heart warmed at her healthy maternal glow.
Sheridan looked up from her reading and smiled her classic cheesy grin at me. She was a sight for sore eyes. She seemed peaceful enough, but then she pulled back the shower curtain to reveal her swollen behemoth belly.
The mirror over the tub reflected black and purple bruises, which covered her entire abdomen. The coloring of her skin looked like someone had beaten her with a ball bat and sliced her with rusty razors. She had a patchwork quilt of bloody paper cuts. I fell to my knees and cradled her in my arms. “Oh my God, Sheridan. This is … are you … oh, my gawd! Are you all right?”
She mimicked a drunk, and her words slurred a bit. “Ima okay. They gave me somethin’ a little while ago to help with the pain. I think the babaes are finally sleepin’ again. But most of the time, the twins think my uterus is their personal jungle gym.” She pulled on the transparent tube strapped over her ears. “I have to wear the oxygen, though. I guess it’s cramped in there.”
“Are there still just the two of them?”
Sheridan nodded. “Dr. Meyer is preparing me for a Cesarean. Says the babaes are ready to come out, but my body hasn’t released any hormones to begin the birthing process.”
I looked at Ruthie Anne for more explanation.
Ruthie Anne blotted Sheridan’s head with a cool cloth and then held a straw for to drink small sips from a water cup. “She’s spot on. We’ve been giving her the Pitocin typically used to bring on labor, but her cervix hasn’t responded. We’ve been trying to keep her as comfortable as possible between sessions.”
“Between sessions?” I scrunched up my face wondering just what the hell that meant.
“Here, come feel them move.” Her face was that of an angel. Sheridan reached for a cup from under the water and then poured a cup of warm water over her belly. She ran her hand along the top of it. She seemed completely at peace with the fact these two kiddos were close to puncturing through her abdominal wall.
It was almost … creepy.
I rubbed over her distended tummy. The movement inside her belly was like a cat scrambling to attack my foot under a blanket. My thoughts wandered as to what kind of beasty could sense where my hand was, and one that had fast enough reflexes to catch it.
Our eyes glistened as we smiled at one another. The unknowingness of the whole situation reminded me of the first night we went to Halloween Scream Nights. We were so scared to attend but so thrilled with anticipation we could simply burst. I suppose in her case now … that’s exactly what she was going to do.
“Oh, Sher—having children around the house is gonna rock. Can you believe it? Two unbelievable babies to take care of?” Pulling my hand out of the water, I reached for a towel. I wanted to help comfort her any way I could. “Did you bring a hair brush?”
“Yes, over in my ditty bag.” Sheridan pointed across the room to the sink.
I loved it when we were younger, and we would spend hours braiding each other’s hair. I picked around through her overnight case and found a half-eaten roll of Life Savers. I popped the lemon one into my mouth and offered her the next flavor.
“Mmm … green, my favorite.” She grinned as she slipped the sweet hard candy into her mouth when Ruthie Anne wasn’t looking.
Her smile was a masterpiece to my eyes. What I wouldn’t give to have a painting of how incredibly beautiful she looked amid the pain she’d been experiencing. I only wished I didn’t have to ruin her visage with my tainted paint brush stained with Dakota’s blood.
Rubbing her belly, Sheridan laughed, “Remember when we got grounded for a week ’cause I cut your bangs?”
I chuckled at the memory. “Right? Mom was ready to tan all our hides.” A smile grew from ear-to-ear and genuinely warmed my heart. “Or the time we dyed Dakota’s hair green on St. Patrick’s Day with the food coloring we’d used in the cookies.” I regretted my words as soon as they left my mouth. Hiding my face behind Sheridan’s head, I didn’t want her to catch sight of my eyes in the mirror as they welled up from the memory.
“Won’t it be wonderful? One day we’ll have wee little ones running around.” Sheridan’s eyes danced with future memories. “Me, you, Dakota. So many cousins. We’ll have huge family reunions.”
A miniature foot pushed up high against the inside of Sheridan’s abdomen. My stomach lurched as it continued to push, stretching her skin. One inch … and then two inches.
Sheridan hollered in guttural pain.
Her voice growing louder as the foot pushed higher and higher.
The nurse grabbed a towel and pushed against the wannabe escape artist.
Three inches. Sheridan’s skin looked like it might split wide open.
Intense visions of Alien crossed my mind.
Were these kids going to eat their way out of her belly?
With the gentle counter pressure, the baby’s foot finally subsided and disappeared back somewhere below the fleshy surface.
Sheridan’s skin cracked, opening a wound seeping droplets of blood from the
scabbed-over abrasions.
Sheridan held my hand as I kneeled in shock.
“Is—is that what’s been happening to you? Is that why you look like you’ve been beaten with a tire iron and raked over with razor blades?”
She nodded. “Yes, they push to make room and it’s been causing these contusions and ruptures.” She heaved in a deep breath and pushed a little foot down from under her rib cage. She looked around. “Have you seen Daddy?”
“I saw him while I was changing into scrubs. Torchy and Khaldon are with him and grabbing a quick bite.”
Her eyes brightened. “They’re here too? Dakota—is she with you?”
I hedged.
Seriously not ready for this question, I thought of a way to stall.
I ran her red silken strands between my fingers. “Your hair is freaking gorgeous. I should try those prenatals you’re taking.”
“Thanks, but they make my toenails grow like crazy. Do you have any idea how hard it is to cut them when your belly is as big as this? It’s feckin’ impossible.”
I couldn't contain my laughter with images of Sheridan rolling around on the bathroom floor trying to trim the nails.
Giggling, I said, “Umm … this may sound a little weird, but do you want either Khaldon or Torchy in here with you during the delivery?”
She outwardly stared at nothing and blinked while I looked at her reflection in the mirror over the bathtub. I could tell the drugs were working, and I had successfully dodged the Dakota bullet for a few more minutes.
“Well … uh—hmm? I really like Torchy and all, but … we haven’t … ya know.” She blushed with an expression on her face as if to say she didn’t want her business laundered in front of Ruthie Anne. “So I don’t … wanna be au naturel.”
“No worries. I totally get it.” I waved my hand away in mock dismissal.
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