by K Webster
“How did you end up on that ship, my sweet mate?”
Her smile falls and panic flashes in her eyes that are magnified by the lenses. “I, uh…” She starts to take a step back, but I grip her hips, pulling her closer.
“Don’t be afraid, Whisper. You could tell me you farmed Kevins and I’d still love you.”
Her mouth parts. “You love me?”
I’m surprised I let those words out, but I certainly don’t want to retract them. It feels right with Quinn. Like I was in love with her the moment I laid eyes on her sleeping form.
“I do. Now, as Molly says, ‘Give up the goods.’”
She laughs. “Of all the morts, I swear you have become her little parrot. You would’ve made a fine Southern boy.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, grinning at her. “Like a rogcowboy?”
“We call them just cowboys, but yes.”
“The just cowboys have rope. Molly told me so.” I bare my double fangs at her. “I could tie you up, little rogcow.”
She snorts out a laugh. “You called me a cow!”
I tickle her sides because it always makes her giggle. Her giggles are what make me want to save the whole world—to save all the worlds if that made her happy. “Ronk! Ronk! My adorable little rogcow!”
Our playful roughhousing sends Legolas squeaking and scurrying to a corner to hide. I fall to the bed with my sweet mate, pulling her to my chest on top of me. We both breathe heavily, our eyes locked on each other. Gently, I stroke my fingers through her curly locks.
“I love you too,” she whispers. “In the books in the library, they call this instalove.” She frowns. “People make fun of it, though. Like it’s not real.”
I tangle my fingers in her hair, drawing her to my lips. “Feels pretty rekking real to me, mate.”
Her lips part and she kisses me so sweetly. I roam my palm down her spine, settling it on her rump.
“I was always a fan of those stories,” she tells me. “The hero had to work faster and harder than the other heroes. He had to be determined to keep his heroine safe and by his side.”
“This sounds like our story,” I muse aloud.
“I think our story is all of them.”
We kiss again, but she pulls away with a sad expression.
“I killed a man, Oz.”
My brave, strong mate.
“A Kevin?”
She nods. “A horrible, horrible Kevin.”
“I’m so proud of you. My little Kevin slayer. Just like in the stories you told me about.”
“I can’t believe you’re praising me for taking that man’s life. You don’t even know the story yet. You just trust that I was justified in doing so.”
“In your story, you’re never the villain, Quinn. Ever.”
Her cheeks blush pink. “I’m glad you’re my mate. You’re the best of all of them.”
“You were worth the wait, Whisper.” I kiss her nose. “Now tell me what this Kevin did to deserve the wrath of a librarian who never even raises her voice.”
She frowns. “Do you remember when you were seven or eight years old—er, revolutions?”
“A wee thing who always got into trouble for taking things apart.”
“Innocent and so full of adventure. Imagine if someone tried to dampen your spirit. Worse yet, snuff it out altogether.”
“Why would someone want to do that to a little one?”
“Kevins can be cruel like that,” she explains, tearing up. “Sometimes they, um, touch women in places they don’t want to be touched.”
A growl rumbles in my chest.
“And sometimes, they do the same for little ones.”
My sub-bones start popping furiously, my mind racing on how to protect these innocent beings from the monsters.
“I walked in on something terrible, Oz. Something so horrible, I couldn’t control the burst of rage. All I could think to do was protect the little one.” She sobs, tears dripping onto her face. “I picked up a chair and I hit him over the head with it. The child ran off and I kept hitting. Over and over again.” She swallows. “They found me splattered in his blood, sitting beside his lifeless body, reading a book about canning okra and other farm vegetables.”
“He deserved every painful blow you delivered. You mustn’t feel guilty.”
Her blue eyes harden. “I don’t, though. You see, when they came for me, I looked at the library manager’s body and I spit on it. I told them he deserved it. And then I went back to reading my canning book.”
My fierce, strong mate.
“And what happened next?” I urge.
“They pried that book from my grip and took me right to jail. After a quick hearing, where I continued to show no remorse for my deed, they banished me to the ship that was headed here.” She shrugs. “Before I left, the little one snuck in and found me. She took my hands through the bars and kissed them. I watched her flee, free from the monster, and I smiled. I smiled when the pod closed and they put me in cryo.”
“That story had a happy ending because it brought you to your mate,” I say, nuzzling her pink nose with mine. “It brought you to me.”
I press my lips to hers for a kiss, which quickly turns hot and heavy. I’m just starting to peel off her shirt when someone bursts into my room.
“You have exactly three hours to test the thermablaster before…” Galen trails off, his eyes fixating on the state of my mate’s partial undress. “Er, meet me in the hall when you’re decent.”
I groan, but it’s then I realize the magnastrikes have quit. Time is of the essence. Quickly, I help Quinn redress and stand, pulling her to her feet beside me. I give her a quick kiss.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
She hugs my neck tight. “Come back to me.”
“I’ll always come back to you. Even if only to hold you as we enter The Eternals together.” I pull away from her, walking backward.
“You’re a poet, Oz,” she says, grinning. “A true romantic.”
“How’s this for romantic? When we make it out of this alive, I’m going to pretend I’m a just cowboy and you can be my little rogcow. I’m going to tie you up and have my filthy way with you.”
“Giddy up, mate! I’m looking forward to that date!”
On that note, I leave her with a smile on my face, an extra thump in my heart, and an imagination full of ways to give my mate as many orgasms as I can.
I’ll be back because our story’s not over yet.
We’re just getting to the good part.
11
Quinn
Eight Solars Left
I wait until I know for certain Oz is gone from the halls to leave our rooms because I know if I don’t, I’ll beg him to stay with me where it’s safe. From my vantage point at the window, I can see the wall of red clouds growing even closer. Threaded with brilliant flashes of light, their rumbles shake the very foundation of the facility. According to Calix, the geostorms are more severe due to changes in the atmosphere caused by the radiation.
It seems like there isn’t a place on this planet not touched by the destruction of man.
If Oz’s weapon doesn’t work, that destruction will be complete.
I can only hope it doesn’t cost him his life.
“C’mon, Legolas, let’s find something to keep ourselves busy.” He makes a nest in my hair and I give his cephalothorax a little rub and he clicks his pinchers together happily.
I step out into the hall and am met by the sound of a keening wail coming from another room. Molly. She’s either mad enough to be yelling or in enough pain that she can’t cover it with her sugar sweet girl next door charm. Or a combination of both.
Knocking at her room, I wait for her answering call before I enter. “Molly?” I say hesitantly as I step through the sliding doors. “You okay?”
Her room is heavily draped in shadows, so it’s hard to make out her form on the bed at first. When my eyes adjust to the darkness, I find Molly in a nest of blanke
ts, red-faced and bawling her eyes out. Their rooms are identical to mine and Oz’s with a bed underneath a small window and a door leading out to the bathroom. Due to the familiarity I’m able to navigate with ease to her side.
“I-I-I’m just so tired,” she says, her voice bordering on hysteria. “I ca-can’t get comfortable. I try to fall asleep, but I’m so achy nothing feels right and then I’m too t-tired to sleep, which only ma-makes it worse.”
Molly is lying on her side, her belly swollen and protruding in front of her. One of her hands rubs across its surface as though she’s trying to soothe the little one inside.
“Where’s Draven?”
She waves an impatient hand. “He w-went to get Calix, who is out there with Oz. Probably got trapped by the storm, knowing my luck. Anyway, he was worried and couldn’t deal seeing me in pain. Calix supposedly has some medicine that will ease the pain a bit.”
“How can I help?” I ask and sit by her side. Her red hair is matted with sweat against her forehead. Taking a comb of sorts from the notch in the wall that serves as a bedside table, I gently brush her hair back from her face.
“Stay with me for a little while?” she asks, already beginning to calm down some. “I didn’t want to bother Draven because I know how busy the morts are and how hard they’re working, but I don’t want to be alone anymore. I’m used to moving around and doing things. I’m a take charge kind of girl, not a wait and see kind of girl.” She dissolves into soft sobs once more and I hold her hand while the tears pour down her cheeks.
She pauses now and then to clutch at her stomach like the pain is so intense she feels it deep inside her soul. It takes me longer than I’d like to admit to realize what that means. It occurs to me when she stops crying to focus on her stomach, breathing long and deep through her nose and out from her mouth.
“Um,” I say, when the realization dawns. “Molly, are you sure you’re okay?”
Red-faced and with a look of pure concentration, she says, “Calix says they’re practice contractions. Practice my ass, they sure feel like the real thing.”
“Molly, I hate to say this, but I think they are the real thing.”
She pushes back her hair and smiles, which wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. “Sugar, I think I’d know if it was time. I’ve been waiting for weeks to have this baby. I wouldn’t…I mean, I think I’d…” Her smile slips off her face and she mutters to herself, “I’d know if I was in labor.”
“How long have they been like this?”
Sweaty brows knitting together, Molly says, “On and off through the night, I think. I stopped keeping track when Calix told me that stuff about them being false labor.” She snorts a little. “They got worse this morning, I think. I haven’t been sleeping well, so my days and nights have been running together.”
“Why don’t we track a few, just to be sure. Let me know when you have the next one.”
“Sure, honey, but I think you’re barking up the wrong tree here because I’m not in—” Her expression contorts in pain and her eyes flutter closed as she weathers the contraction.
Quietly, I tell Uvie to note the time and call for Draven, who’d gone with Oz and the others to observe the weapon’s testing. The contraction lasts about a minute or so and when it’s over, Molly’s body relaxes. There’s no way these are false. She can barely talk through them. From what I’ve read on the subject, they get longer and stronger. Rest should mitigate false labor and Molly has been doing nothing but resting.
This baby is coming, whether we’re ready or not.
When the contraction ends, I take her hand in mine. “I hate to break it to you, Molly, but I think you’re wrong.”
“No, I can’t…there’s no way.” She sucks in gulps of air like she’s drowning. She does this until another contraction robs her of words.
I wait until the wave of pain passes and meet her gaze. “You can and there is. Uvie is getting the word out to Draven. He was helping Oz prepare for the test runs. Let’s get you comfortable.”
Molly waddles around while I change her sheets and pour her a glass of recycled water from the sink. She drinks thirstily. “Please tell me you’ve delivered a baby before?” she asks in a hopeful tone. “Or at least know what you’re doing.”
“We don’t exactly get a lot of pregnant women in the library. I’ve read a couple books on the subject, though.” At her look of growing horror, I rush to add, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. Calix and Draven will be here soon and according to what I’ve read, first time mothers are often in labor for several hours. Maybe even days!” If the sound of my voice edges on hysteria in that last bit, I can only hope Molly doesn’t hear it.
Thankfully she is too distracted by another contraction to pay any mind to me. I get her into the bed once the sheets have been changed.
Uvie announces in her computerized voice, “According to my data, her contractions are coming every four minutes and lasting fifty seconds.”
“I’m pretty sure that means this is it, chickie.”
“Crap on a cracker. I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified.”
“I think that about covers it.” If my hands shake while I press a cool cloth to her head, I’m only glad she can’t see it.
Seven Solars Left
“The communications systems are down,” Uvie reports. “The geostorm affecting the facility is interfering with my ability to contact Draven and Calix. Should I keep trying?”
“Are there any morts left inside the building?” I brush a stray lock of hair away from my face.
"Not presently.”
“Keep trying to reach them. Maybe the storm will pass.”
Molly, who has been laboring for going on nine hours, huffs on the bed. She’s been moving from position to position to get comfortable—not that it’s possible. I considered early on sending for one of the women to retrieve Calix and Draven, but I don’t want to scare them or distract Oz any more than I have to. This may be his one chance to test the weapon before the army from Earth II arrives. I have to be strong for him, for Molly, for all of them.
“I can’t do this,” Molly groans on the bed.
“Yes, you can. You’re almost there.”
“No, I mean it. I can’t. I can’t do this without Draven. Where is he?”
I’m not going to panic. I can do this. Who knew real life could be as exciting as my books? “He’s with the others. Uvie is trying to get through the geostorm interference to get word to him. He’ll be here as soon as he can, I promise. Do you want me to get anyone else? Aria?”
“I just want Draven. He should be here.”
“I know, I’m so sorry, I know.” I let her squeeze my hand until the bones grind together at the onset of another contraction. They’re coming almost on top of each other now. She has to be close. I haven’t checked her or anything because one, I think Draven would bite my head off and B, I wouldn’t even know what I should be looking for.
She blows out a breath and lets her head droop. “Don’t apologize, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Really?”
“All of your blathering kind of distracts me.”
I flush a little, but I also fill with pride. To keep both of us busy these last long hours, I’ve been reciting my favorite works from memory. Granted, a lot were spicy old texts from before the exodus to Earth II like The Wild by K Webster and Toxic by Nicole Blanchard, but they were stimulating and evocative, which kept Molly from focusing too much on the pain. They were also filled with a lot of sex, which only made her say she was never having sex again.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It…was…meant…as…one.”
The contractions are coming closer and closer together now. It shouldn’t be long. Well, at least according to what I’ve read. Uvie has been helping keep track of their timing and measuring Molly’s temperature, heart rate, and blood pressure. All of that seems to be normal, thankfully, and Molly is handling it as well as possibl
e.
Which makes exactly one of us.
“Oh, I think I’m pushing,” Molly says and breaks through my increasingly panicked thoughts.
The door slides open and Draven shoves himself through. His face is sheened with sweat and his eyes are bright with fevered exhaustion and desperation. “Am I too late? Did I miss it?”
“Draven, you’re here.”
He goes to her side where she’s leaning against the wall at the head of the bed. “I tried to make it sooner, but the rekking geostorm is a rough one. But I made it back to you. I’ll always make it back to you.”
“Our baby is coming,” Molly says and then she’s pushing again.
Calix follows soon behind, and I melt into the shadows as I let the three of them do their work. I’m nowhere near as tired as Molly must be feeling and I’m running on adrenaline at this point, so I don’t crumple into one of their chairs. Instead I stand by the wall out of the way and try to give them some space to do their work.
She pushes for a short time with Draven holding her hand and murmuring encouragements. In no time, there comes a roar of triumph followed by tinny cries of a disgruntled baby. I cover my mouth with a hand as tears fill my eyes. I wish Oz were here to see this. Maybe someday soon I’ll do this again, except it will be me bringing our child into the world.
They’re snuggling the baby between them while Calix gives Molly a once-over when Molly cries out in pain. A few minutes later, she does it again.
“What is it? Is he hurting you?”
“No, big guy, it’s not that. I think…I think I’m having another baby.”
At that statement, there’s a momentous clap of thunder and a blinding streak of lightning that lights up the whole room. Then, the facility shudders underneath our feet and everything goes dark.
12
Ozias
Seven Solars Left
I can’t rekking see.
The rain is coming down in torrents and the magnastrikes are everywhere. I’m surprised Breccan hasn’t put an end to this. He won’t.