Caged

by J. A. Belfield

  His gaze flittered side-to-side, up-down. “You sure?”

  No. “Positive. Why’d you change back?”

  “Because we think everyone involved came to us. Jack’s wolves are happy to scout and double check, but with any luck we already got all of them.”

  “Except Catherine.”

  “She was the only one who didn’t show.”

  “Actually, she did. But her bloody goons covered for her, and she bolted before I could grab her.” I lifted my head, peered about at the funky gore decorating the room, at Sean pacing in the other corner, his face and grappling hands no more relaxed than earlier. “Jack see her on his way up here?”

  Dad shook his head. “Maybe we’ll catch her downstairs somewhere.”

  “Maybe,” I murmured, though I doubted it. Catherine had most probably scarpered.

  “Come on.” He gripped my shoulder, gave a small squeeze. “Let’s wrap this end up.”

  On the thrust to my feet, the room’s colours kaleidoscoped in my vision for a moment before settling into definition. Sean halted in his pacing, the quirk of his eyebrow private language for, ‘You all right?’ I gave a slight inclination of my chin and returned his expression, receiving the smallest shrug of his left shoulder in response.

  I doubted either of us had been honest in our answer.

  “Everything okay?” Jack asked, striding across.

  “Sure.” Dad nodded toward Jack’s team in their restless hustle. “How about yours?”

  “Lee’ll probably have to be carried out of here, but he’ll heal.” I guessed he meant Odder. “Otherwise, we’re good to continue.” He turned my way, his gaze skimming my entire length. “You look worse than you are, I hope.”

  I bristled under his concern. “I’m fine.” Maybe if I said it enough times, I’d begin to believe it myself.

  He turned back to Dad. “We wrapping this up now? Assessing the damage downstairs?”

  “Yeah. Josh and I will stay back and help with the releases. But I’m sending Ethan and Sean on ahead to begin the cleanup of the humans. This is taking too long. The sooner we get started on the outsiders, the better.”

  “Agreed.” Jack turned to his pack for a second before twisting back. “I’ll keep Samuel with us so we have his knowledge of the downstairs setup, but I can spare Darrel and Bobby to hit the road and start knocking some names off that list, too.” He shrugged. “Seems unproductive to keep all our resources in one spot when we could be covering more ground.”

  Dad nodded. “Then, let’s get moving.”

  As Jack marched off, I reached for Dad’s shoulder. “Do me a favour, and don’t let any of the vamps out their cages.”

  He stared at me a moment. “We can’t just leave them locked up, Son. However much they’ve pissed you off.”

  “I know that. Just trust me on this. I have an idea for how we can release them. But it won’t be tonight. And it won’t be with you and Josh there.”

  He gave another hard study of my face, though he eventually nodded. “Okay, I’ll go with you on this. Now clean yourself up, and get you and Sean on the road. Even in your conditions, you should manage a bunch of lone humans.”

  • • •

  “You’re not as okay as you tried to tell Dad.” Sean peered at me through the darkness as we marched back toward the waiting truck. “Are you?”

  “Neither are you, Doctor H.” When he stared at me, I added, “Right now, I’m counting my blessings the wolfsbane only forced one change out of me.”

  Though I imagined the dose had been measured with accuracy for exactly that. After all, what good would an ever-changing wolf have been in the arena?

  I squished a nostril shut with my thumb and blew hard in the thousandth attempt to lose the vampire stench in there, barely missing my jeans that Sean had managed to get off me before my change had taken over. “Now quit talking, and just walk … unless you want to tell me what the hell’s been going on with you all night.”

  Only our breaths created sound, alongside the whisper of the wind through grass blades, the bubbles of a far off stream. Fifteen metres later, he uttered, “No idea.”

  “You ill?”

  “Feels worse than ill. Feels …” He rubbed around the back of his neck. “Like nothing else. Like changing. But not. Because it’s only in my lower stomach and round to my spine. Damn, I feel like someone’s been ripping me open from the bloody inside out.”

  With each spilled confession, I stared harder at him. He looked like crap, though I doubted I represented much of an oil painting myself, and his ‘cramps’ and nausea had grown progressively worse as we’d continued through the night. The haunted glint in his eyes, though, and the constant tenseness to the lines of his body told me it went way deeper than just a shit night of wrapup and cleanup.

  “Leave the humans to me for a while,” I told him. “You can play lookout.”

  He opened his mouth, like he considered arguing. That he shut it and merely nodded told me he felt a whole lot worse than I evaluated from his exterior. I couldn’t help but heave a sigh when the pickup finally emerged through the gloom, and released another the second I’d got Sean safely inside and we set off.

  Barely ten minutes passed when Sean doubled over in the passenger seat, and his head vanished somewhere between his knees. As I peered across at him, he turned a scary shade of beet, the tendons popped in his flexed arm, and his knuckles turned white where they gripped the rim of my seat.

  I hit the brakes and grabbed him, giving a slight shake. “Sean?”

  He twisted until his face showed. His eyes looked glazed and about to leap from his damn skull, his cheeks bloated from clenching his jaw too hard. “Something”—he gasped—“is not … right.”

  “You’re telling me.” I growled as my mobile rang. I snatched it up and checked the display. “Dad?”

  “Change of plan for the two of you. You’re heading straight home. Jem’s in labour.”

  “But … I thought she still had a few weeks.”

  “She does—did. Not anymore. Baby’s got fed up with waiting.”

  My gaze returned to Sean and the panted breaths he’d begun as I processed Dad’s words. “Well … shit. That explains everything.”

  “Ethan?”

  “Sean … he has to be feeling it. That’s why he’s been all over the damn place.”

  A quiet groan travelled the line. “Okay. Get your rears home pronto. I’ll speak to Jack, explain that we’ll need more time to cover our share. Then Josh and I’ll be there as soon as we can with Colum.”

  “See you at home.” I shut off the call. “Sean, you better buckle up.”

  “What’s going on?” he asked through seething teeth.

  “You’re about to become a dad.”

  36

  After fidgeting, groaning, and rolling around the entire journey home, Sean had the truck door open before we even stopped. He flung himself out, hitting the block pavers as his knees buckled beneath him, and threw himself up and into a sprint for the house just as fast.

  Almost as eager, I ground on the handbrake and leapt out myself, slamming Sean’s door closed on my way past.

  Groans reached me before I’d hit the top step, and I followed them upstairs and into Sean’s bedroom.

  Jem’s glower landed on me the second I rounded the doorframe, bringing me up short. Teeth bared like a rabies-infected mutt, she let out a high-keened cry and ended on a screeched whistle. “Where have you beeeeeeeeeen?”

  I held my palms out as I took a step closer.

  Pretty much pinioned to the bed by her grip on his wrist, Sean already sat on her right. The bright red of his face didn’t seem far off Jem’s. On her other side, also restrained and with his beseeching eyes aimed at me, Daniel didn’t look in much better shape
.

  “I’m here now,” I muttered, moving forward a little more—like I approached an untameable beast instead of my brother’s mate.

  Craig nodded to me from the corner, blood-smeared gloves on his hands, a small twitch to his lips. “Thank goodness. She’s been asking for the two of you.”

  I tried to smile, though even breathing through my mouth couldn’t quite stem the stench of bodily fluids that had probably permeated the wallpaper, the brickwork, the roof—the entire fricking house. I also thought about bolting until Mum bumped me forward from behind and sent me a step closer.

  “Take over from Danny,” she said, just as a fresh roll of mewling broke from Jem. “I think he may need blood transfused into his hand if he doesn’t get his circulation back soon.”

  “Unh …”

  “Go on.” Mum’s hand hit the small of my back and nudged me all the way across to the bed. “You look like you could use a sit down, anyway.”

  Relief flooded Daniel’s features as he practically dove out of my way. With him gone, Jem peered up at me, her face swollen with pain, lips a circular funnel as she expelled her breaths in small pants.

  Seeing her in so much distress knocked my emotions off kilter. I reached down and unstuck the hair clinging to her forehead from sweat. “You’re doing great, Jem.”

  “Here,” Mum said, passing me a wet flannel.

  I took it from her, the water in it a welcoming chill against my palm. For an instant, I contemplated sticking it on my own weary head until the scrape of Jem’s fingernails across sheets warned of another round of whatever the hell kept happening about to restart. Her eyes closed as I wiped at her brow, lips relaxing to part for her sigh.

  “Feel good?” I asked.

  A tiny nod. “Un-hunh.”

  Still dabbing at her, my gaze skimmed over Sean’s hunched form, his hand wrapped around one of Jem’s almost as tight as hers was around his.

  Behind him, Craig unwrapped one of the scariest-looking contraptions I’d ever seen from a sealed packet.

  Did he plan to use that on Jem?

  Holy. Shit.

  I unlodged the gulp threatening to stick at the sight of the polished metal ‘tool’. “How’s Kyle?”

  He peered up and gave a tight smile. “He woke. And he was talking, though he was still a little drowsy. Looks a lot better.” He nodded toward the room on the opposite side of the landing. “His lady friend is sitting in with him and Connor.”

  Who? I glanced that way and back again when I realised he meant Brook. “And Lauren?”

  “I talked her into taking a nap,” Mum said, bustling in with a shedload of towels. “She’s in my and your dad’s room. Now quit worrying over everything else and concentrate your efforts where they’re needed.”

  “Arrrrrrrggghhhuuuununnnnnneeeeeh!”

  My head whipped back at Jem’s unholy wail. “What’s wrong?”

  Sean jerked rigid, tears pooling in his eyes, his arm wrapped so far round his middle he almost enfolded himself.

  “Pushing.” Jem’s whisper shot out on a gasp. “Need to—” Another cry rang from her, uniting with a similar, deeper one from Sean.

  As Craig shot to the end of the bed, nudging the covering sheet out of the way, Sean’s head swung toward him, a low growl bubbling past his taut lips.

  Craig met his glare head on. “The baby’s head is showing already. You haven’t time for theatrics. Now get a grip.” He jerked his chin at Jem with her glassy stare aimed at the ceiling and her free hand grappling around for something to crush. “She needs you.”

  Cloth forgotten, I stuck a knee on the mattress and leaned across to grab Sean’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

  He faced me, his eyes wholly consumed by a mixture of fear and agony, his teeth grinding. At my nod, he blew out a slow breath and turned back to Jem, though as I released his shoulder, his hand shot up, and his fingers grabbed onto my wrist tight enough to incapacitate.

  I tugged a little. His vice-grip didn’t budge. I thought about asking him to loosen up until Jem snatched hold of my other wrist with as debilitating a hold as my brother’s and hauled me onto the mattress across from Sean.

  Groans rolled from Jem, as deep as a bear’s, before crescendo-ing into a deafening screech. From beside her, grunts arrived with each one of Sean’s panted breaths as every tendon across his body threatened to explode through his skin. Stuck between the two of them, the veins throbbed in my wrists beneath their crushing hands, and I could do no more than sit and accept it as I became a conduit for their shared agony.

  “Good, Jem,” Craig said behind my right shoulder. “Now catch your breath before the next one.”

  Together, Jem and Sean sucked breath in and gusted it out, in-out, in-out—each one right into my face where they’d dragged me like some kind of canopy to Jem’s contracting stomach. If the situation hadn’t been so intense, it might have been hilarious.

  I peered away over my shoulder.

  Craig had his hands right down at Jem’s crotch with that fugly metal device resting on the bed between her legs.

  My vision wavered for a second before I ordered myself to turn back—to the duet of gales steaming my face to unbearable temperatures.

  Mum popped up behind Sean, another dripping flannel in her hands. By that time, I really could have used it myself.

  More groans. More cries. Gasps. Pants. Grunts. Wails. Keening. Not to mention the stench—oh, God, the smell.

  At some point, I zoned out. Though, somehow, mumbles of reassurance still managed to make their way past my lips.

  The sounds of pain became distant echoes. As did Daniel’s footsteps across the landing, and Connor’s when he emerged to join him. Movement rushed in and out of the room—to Jem and out, to Sean and out, as though they’d all finally acknowledged that both of them were in labour, not just Jem.

  I simply sat there, trying my damndest to ignore the burning sensation that crept higher and higher into my arms as numbness took over.

  At some point, the front door slammed and feet pounded the stairs, followed by Dad’s demand of, “How’s she doing?” and Mum’s even quieter response of, “Just fine.” After which, the strides the length of the landing sounded on par with a marched parade.

  “Okay, one more push, Jem!”

  At Craig’s command, the entire household seemed to still, noise suspended, movement ceased, until Jem’s, “Uuuuuueeeennnnnnhhhhhhhh,” broke the spell.

  Sean’s body stretched toward the bed end, his intense stare one hundred percent dedicated to the point of delivery despite the twisting of his features reflecting his agony.

  I couldn’t help but follow his focus. “Holy shit!” I whispered.

  A tiny head stuck out from Jem. Hair thick and black. And gunky with something I didn’t want to think about.

  Craig’s fingers pried at the entrance. “Another push, Jem. Not so hard. A gentle one. Come on, now. You’re almost there.”

  As though I could loan strength to the female who’d gone through such an amazing ordeal, I twisted until my hand cupped hers and squeezed. Her next groan arrived quieter as the muscles tensed in her thighs and stomach, and her hand clenched against mine.

  Like a seal on an ice slide, the baby shot out.

  Craig caught it as though he tackled childbirth every day and laid it down with care before lifting his smiling face to Sean. “Want to cut the cord?”

  Sean’s eyes widened, though he’d yet to take them from the little being he’d helped create, his slightly parted lips lending him a look of wonderment, but he managed to unleash me and held out his hand.

  When Craig wrapped Sean’s fingers around the metal tool I’d tried to block from my mind, I spun back to Jem, flexing my own fingers to work some blood back into them before freeing Jem’s face of yet more s
ticky strands.

  “How’s your hand?” she murmured.

  “Give it back, and I’ll let you know.”

  I didn’t realise she’d obliged until she touched my cheek. “Thanks for staying.”

  “Any time.”

  At the cutest and smallest cry I’d ever heard, I whirled back round to see Craig standing with the baby in his grasp.

  All purply, browny, creamy and wrinkly as heck, what looked like an alien Sean spawn waved an arm, kicked a leg, screwing its face up as though the effort of the actions took its toll. I studied the fists, curled like the baby prepared to take on the world and then some, following the body down to the spindly legs, and as Craig went to turn away, I rocketed to my feet.

  Sean bolted up also. “Wait!”

  Craig twisted back, his eyebrows raised. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why hasn’t he got a winky?” Sean’s desperate tone merged with my, “Where the hell’s his dick?”

  Craig chuckled and held the baby up for quick inspection before sitting him on the towel draped across Mum’s arms. As Mum wrapped the cloth round and carried the bundle off, Craig turned back to Sean. “He’s a she. You have a daughter.”

  “I …” Sean’s mouth opened and closed. “I … what?”

  Jem giggled behind us, drawing all attention to the tired smile spread across her face. “Told you so,” she mumbled before another laugh seeped out.

  The next few minutes got taken over by Dad and the Larsen’s stepping in to kiss Jem and slap the back of a shell-shocked Sean before Craig cleared everyone away from the bed. The swaddled baby he held made adorable little coos as he lowered her into Jem’s outstretched arms.

  As soon as she had her, Jem drew the baby tight to her chest, eyes moist as she gazed down at the new addition.

  “Any idea what you’re going to call her?” Craig asked.

  Working her index into one of the delicate fists, Jem nodded. “Lia. Short for Natalia. After her granddaddy.” She turned to Sean. “Okay?”