Rebellious Hood

by Kendrai Meeks

  We shot to our feet as though a head of state had just entered the room. When she chose to address me as the point person for all that was going on, I had to wonder why. Still relinquished, I had no right under our customs to expect more than a curt nod. Even my father, merely exiled, had status over me.

  “She sleeps between contractions,” Petunia began without precursor. “But she’s growing weak.”

  Caleb stepped forward. “And the baby?”

  The green hood side-eyed the slayer. “Are you the father?”

  “Me?” Caleb stuck his thumb into his chest as his face burned crimson. “No. No, definitely not.”

  “Shame, that,” said Petunia. “The genes would be strong. The baby, as far as I can tell with the limited instruments at my disposal, endures, but that could change quickly. I rarely recommend sending one of my patients to a huey hospital, but at this point, I believe it’s the prudent choice. I, of course, am not familiar with slayer delivery norms, and none of the females above have attended the birth of one of their own, but most hoods deliver in an eight- to ten-hour window and I can’t imagine it’s much different. I suggest she be taken to the hospital in Lahr as soon as possible.”

  Amy pivoted, making for the stairs. “I’ll put together an away bag.”

  Markus headed to the garage. “I’ll warm the car and pull it out in front. Should I put the back seats flat so she can lay down?”

  Petunia nodded to his disappearing form. “Yes. A few blankets and pillows will also help keep the bumps of the road from causing her too much pain.”

  My father took the acquisition of sufficient linens and throw pillows as his duty, speeding off to a closet where we kept such things.

  That left Caleb, Cody and I, looking to Petunia for marching orders.

  “Does Alex know about this recommendation?” I asked.

  The physician bobbed her head. “I advised her of the risks, both to go or not to go. She agreed with me that it was better safe than sorry. A slayer birth is a rare event. She said there had not been one in the fifteen years she was held as one of Vlad Tepeş’s harem. We need do all we can. We should have made arrangements for this at a private clinic in advance.”

  “We weren’t expecting her to give birth for a few more weeks,” Caleb said. “According to Alex, she’s only eight months along, and barely.”

  Petunia chortled. “Eight months, my eye. If anything, she’s overdue. I’ll want to move her between contractions in as easy a way as possible, and I’ll need the help of that cousin of yours, Miss Kline, to carry her down just as soon as he’s back.”

  Cody stepped forward. “I can do it.”

  The midwife looked at the alpha like she wanted to deliver a knock to the side of his head.

  “What do you think I’m going to do, run away with her, eat her?” Cody huffed. “I just want to help.”

  Caleb stepped in closer. “Take him at his word, Nurse Ratchet. If Geri trusts him, then he deserves it.”

  Petunia’s eyes rolled to the ceiling as she turned back toward the stairs. “A slayer and alpha, vouched for by a relinquished. What is this world coming to? Fine, come along. Miss Kline, I’ll trust you to make sure this whole kit and caboodle goes off as planned. I will phone ahead to the hospital and let them know to expect us shortly.”

  We looked like a circus train driving into Lahr. Two cars, each full of fretful twentysomethings, supplemented by one senior physician smelling of the Grateful Dead and one middle-aged Latino looking like Antonio Banderas’s slender brother.

  The silky black SUV took the lead, deference given to the transport of the woman actually in labor. As instructed, the back seats had been laid flat, and my dad proved he had missed his calling as interior designer by making use of sheets, pillows, and blankets in a short space of time to make it as comfortable of a bed as could be had. The shaded windows made my seeing Alex impossible during the twenty-minute trip, but I hoped that Petunia and Amy, both of whom were beside her, had found a way to comfort her. Yan had also rushed down to the house just before the sun had arisen, advised that his telepath services may be needed.

  “Who’s the vampire?” Cody asked from the backseat.

  “His name is Janus Sousa, but he goes by Yan.” In the passenger seat beside me, Caleb assumed responsibility for answering. “He’s employed by the Matron Council at Schloss Wolfsretter. He swirls the memories of any hueys who manage to get into the property or who spread rumors they shouldn’t.”

  Anya, a willowy reed of a slayer woman who’d been Alex’s friend in the Istanbul harem, perked up at that. “So that’s true? Vampires can change memories?”

  The werewolf turned on the slayer. “How can you not know that?”

  Affronted, Anya choked out her answer. “We were only taught what the Ravens wanted us to know, and had little contact with the outside world. All of us were born in the harem, or arrived there as children before our parents could train us. In fact, until Caleb arrived, we believed that only female slayers could conjure solaria.”

  I caught Cody’s eye in the rearview mirror. “They were prisoners.”

  The werewolf became very sheepish. “Oh, um... Damn, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised, you know? I mean, like, you never saw them using that power?”

  “It doesn’t work on us any more than it works on slayers or werewolves,” I said to a crestfallen Anya. “Don’t feel ashamed that you didn’t know. I mean, Markus and I had an extensive library of information on the natures of all supes, and neither of us had any idea slayer pregnancies only last eight months.”

  The polarity of the atmosphere changed with Anya’s giggle. “That I do know. There haven’t been any successful pregnancies while I was in the harem, but there were several stillbirths. Nine months, more or less, just like hueys. I remember because that ninth month, the pregnant haseki would always be put into a private suite. Never did any good, though. The baby always died.”

  Reading the anxiety that hatched over Caleb’s face, I leaned across the front seat to place a hand on his knee. “It will be fine. Alex is going to deliver a strong, healthy baby. She hasn’t endured so long just to lose it.”

  His eyes tracked the car in front of us. “I hope so.”

  I’d spent more time in hospitals in the last few years than all the years previous collectively. What struck me was how similar the experience was, whether it was Marquette, Michigan or Lahr, Germany or even Chicago. Maybe the sterile atmosphere could only result ultimately to the same bland-but-functional environment?

  A pond of taupe-colored fabric chairs was docked around a pine-paneled table holding an odd collection of fashion magazines, newspapers, and well-worn children’s books, the chairs numbered just enough to seat us all. Markus and Yan, noodled together, thumbed through a copy of the German edition of Cosmo, I eyeballed a local newspaper published in Munich, and Cody tried to make sense of a picture book in which two kids bounced on a dragon’s tummy.

  A cell phone rang.

  Caleb pressed the device to his ear. “Halo? ... Ah, Inga, how kind of you to remember that any of us exist. Thanks for saying bye, by the way. ... Hmmm? No, nothing too much, just sitting at the hospital, waiting for Alex to give birth, you know, just shooting the breeze and all. What?” His eyes surveyed the room. “No, it’s just us here, no one else. ... You sure about that? Fine, just a second.” He lowered the phone to his palm and pushed a button on the screen. “Go ahead, you’re on speaker.”

  “Have you all lost your minds?” the eerily-sedate voice of the vampire demanded without pretense. “You’ve taken a slayer to a huey hospital? Are you insane?”

  “It was her choice, and advised by the hood physician,” Caleb said, holding the phone up. “She’s been in labor for a whole day at this point.”

  “Let it be for thirty days!” Inga shouted. “But let it be in Triberg! Do you have any idea what you’ve done, exposing her to outsiders and having her registered in one of their computer systems?”


  “Do you think we’re a bunch of first-time supes?” I asked. “She’s here under an alias, one created by the Matron Council. They’ve given new IDs to all the slayers.”

  A pause suggested Inga hadn’t counted on that. But the vampire proved she had more than one arrow in her quiver. “What of the doctors, though? If they do any basic blood work on her, they’re going to figure out she’s not human. Hell, they’ll suspect something’s wrong when her pulse and blood pressure are so irregular, and that’s going to results in tests, notes, data in medical systems...”

  Yan leaned in toward the phone. “I am here to make sure the hueys take no notice of Miss Alexandra’s abnormalities, nor that they have any memory of her when we leave.”

  “Who...” A pause more pregnant than the slayer we’d arrived with. “...is that?”

  Yan shrank back, suddenly silent. But Markus wouldn’t stand for any slight of his boyfriend.

  “That is Yan, and he’s going to make sure everything is kept secure. Don’t worry, we got things covered.”

  Inga’s voice became alarmingly pinched. “Yan, who?”

  The black-haired vampire buried his chin into his balled-up fists. “I am blooded of the Varanasi Clutch.”

  “I see,” said Inga, followed by a space during which I could practically visualize the woman examining her fingernails with disdain. “I will arrive back in Germany tonight, and come directly to the hospital. If there is a single doctor left in that facility who even remembers what Alex’s hair color is, there will be trouble. Do you understand, Watcher?”

  Yan licked his lips. “Yes, Dracule, I do.”

  “Good,” the vampire cooed. “I thought you might. Now, get that baby born, and as soon as I arrive, we leave, whether the doctors think she’s ready or not.”

  And without a further word, the connection dropped.

  FOURTEEN

  My gaze shifted between cutting and curious when I turned eyes on Yan. Even surmising that the Varanasi and Dracule had some kind of tension didn’t do me much good. After all, the Ravens were Dracule, and I had a whole Texan cattle industry worth of beef with them, despite Inga and Igor also being born of that clutch.

  Any chance of follow-up would have to wait. Petunia arrived right in time to catch our shell shock but to keep additional bombs at bay.

  “The doctors agree that we’ve waited on the natural thing to happen long enough,” the green hood said. “Alex is being prepped for the operating room. She’ll be going in in the next ten to fifteen minutes, just as soon as the epidural kicks in.”

  Caleb stepped closer. “And the baby?”

  Petunia’s face blossomed. “She’s a strong little lass. But she is showing some signs of stress, so it’s good we got here when we did.” Then, the glow of her cheeks faded. “Only...”

  “Only what?”

  Who asked? Who didn’t?

  She frowned. “The OB-GYN asked Alex permission to perform an ultrasound. Poor child hadn’t had one, she said. The image was...” As Petunia’s voice drifted off, Yan rounded the lobby. “I’ll start containing the abnormality.”

  My pulse pounded. My breath hitched. Something was wrong, and it was my fault. “Abnormality? What kind of...”

  Instead of illuminating our understanding or alleviate our worry in the least, Petunia turned her staunch expression square on me. “Alex would like to talk with you before it’s too late.”

  The weight of collective stares threatened to collapse me.

  “Me?” I asked, just as surprised as any of them. Anya had gone in with her the moment she’d been wheeled off, after all, so it wasn’t like she was alone. “Why me? Caleb should be there; he’s a slayer. Or Amy; she’s been helping Alex pick out baby furniture and names. I’m... I’m...”

  What? A hood? A no one? Relinquished?

  But I knew what I was. I was a broken woman who was beginning to fear her mate was dead. I was bad luck. I was a malcontent. I was the last person Alex should want at her side as she welcomed her first-born child into the world.

  I felt my head shaking before I’d even realized I’d said no.

  Petunia planted balled-up fists on her hips. “Miss Kline, perhaps you’ve never been present at a birth before, but here’s a helpful tip. Whatever the mother wants that’s not a danger to her baby or herself, she gets.” The elder hood pulled the surgical mask back up over her mouth. “I’ll come to retrieve you in a few minutes when we’re going into the OR.”

  As the midwife made her exit, I suddenly felt like I was the one in need of medical attention. My heart was going to thud right out of my chest.

  Markus put an arm around me. “No worries, cuz. It’s easy. You just tell them to breathe and push.”

  Caleb slapped Markus upside the head. “Alex is having a c-section, Einstein. The doctors are going to remove the baby surgically.”

  “You mean, they have to cut into her whoo-haa?” Markus’s face curdled. “Oh my god, I’m so glad Yan can never do that to me.”

  As the boys bickered and Amy rattled something off about the shortcomings of the female body, I gathered my courage. I’d taken on ruthless vampires and stood up to my alpha ex, but facing a mother giving birth was twisting me into knots. One thing Alex did not need was to be the one reassuring me everything was going to be okay. Time to step up and get my act together.

  “Caleb?”

  “...I mean the biology alone would be impossible, so...”

  “Caleb!”

  The slayer snapped to attention, wide-eyed. “Geri?”

  “I don’t suppose you’re aware of any traditional slayer birth traditions I should observe or anything?”

  He guffawed. “We don’t give birth to aliens or anything. Plus, how the hell would I know?”

  “There’s the naming ceremony,” Markus offered.

  Leave it to my cousin to have some forgotten piece of historic slayer lore in his head but be completely clueless on what a caesarian section was.

  “How does that go?”

  “Yeah, Markus.” Caleb crossed his arms over his chest and cocked a hip expectantly. “How does that go?”

  “During the first sunrise after the birth, you’re supposed to hold up the baby to the first light of dawn to introduce it to its birthright, while proclaiming its name. Usually it’s something done by the dad.” He frowned. “Hey, do we even know who the dad is? Seems like that should have come up by now, but I haven’t seen Alex being particularly Jane Brady with any of those slayer guys.”

  “When I asked her once, the only thing she said was that it didn’t matter,” Amy chimed in. “He’s dead.”

  Another bitter inheritance this child would be born into.

  Caleb got a sly look on his face. “I don’t think it was a slayer, though. Probably some huey staff the Ravens had. Anya and the others say that Alex never got together with anyone in the dungeon as far as they knew, and there wouldn’t have been much opportunity, you know.”

  I shouldn’t be spending one brain cell on trying to puzzle out something that wasn’t any of my business, but it did draw my curiosity. Given that the slayers were so important to Vlad, surely he would have been eager to, for lack of a better word, breed them. Would he have tolerated a hybrid? Was he so desperate for any of them to reproduce he’d accept any pairing that resulted in a child? Or was it possible that Alex had found a way to have a little happiness, confined as she was? Although, frankly, her restrictions hadn’t seemed as bad as the other slayers’. Vlad exulted Alex over them all, doting on her, treating her with her own personal care and tenderness.

  The same man who held my mate bound in silver and wanted to kill his own father. How very ... odd.

  “Well, at least we know that Vlad didn’t knock her up.”

  Amy slapped Cody’s chest quicker than I was able to. The blond huey didn’t fear the big, bad wolf one single bit.

  Returning to the room, holding a mass of pink scrubs, Petunia cleared her throat. “It’s time, Miss Kline. Take these.
You’ll put them on over your clothes after you scrub up.”

  If any of these people hurt Alex or her baby, I’ll flay them with their own scalpels.

  I put my hand against the wall to steady myself, flooded with a sense of protection that perplexed me.

  “Miss Kline?” Petunia’s callused hands had a remarkably light touch. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Yes. “Just had a weird moment there, a little overcome.” Like I needed to protect something with my life.

  Petunia patted my shoulders. “Stress, perhaps. And I bet you haven’t gotten anything past those lips but coffee since this whole episode started yesterday, have you?” She helped me regain my balance. “You’re lucky you’re relinquished. That wolf of yours from America... He’s got a peculiar type of energy. Took me a while to get used to it, too. Makes me wonder if all American lupines are like that. The ones back home in Wales aren’t.”

  What the hell was she talking about, peculiar energy? But then I remembered what Markus had said, how he could sense me now at times, the way any hood could sense any wolf when they got close enough. I hadn’t thought about that when we called the hood’s physician down from the castle. Cody’s arrival, it seemed, had come at just the right time to serve as camouflage for my true nature.

  Petunia gave me a gentle nudge toward a set of swinging doors at the end of the corridor. “Come along, now. This young one has waited long enough.”

  I yielded. “Petunia, thank you for this. For being here for Alex, even though she’s not a hood.”

  “Pash! A baby is a baby,” the old woman said. “I can’t blame it for its parentage.”

  In the back of my mind, I wondered if she would have said the same thing back in 1687, if she’d been asked to assist in the birthing of my nameless ancestor.

  In the OR, the medical staff moved with deliberate speed around Alex, stopping only a moment to acknowledge Petunia and me. The slayer’s head stuck out from a surgical poncho, a tent that was tied down at the level of her shoulders and fanned out toward her feet, opening her most private areas to the inspection of the doctor and two nurses busily preparing a slew of instruments on several trays.