“Are you finding the mark on babies who don’t have paranormal parents?”
“Not yet. But I’ll be checking with colleagues outside of the PDU. I’ll have to get back to you on that. In the meantime, I need to investigate the meaning behind the mark.”
I palm the exam table and inhale. The sweet scent of baby powder and shampoo makes its way into my sinuses. I breathe deeper, willing a whiff of something that smells of… The scent hits me deep, hidden within the powder-fresh baby scents. “Ozone.”
The doctor checks the window. Specifically, the cloudless day. “There’s no storm brewing for miles. It’s a lovely spring day. Are you certain?”
When I open my mouth to speak, my fangs elongate and I hiss. “Fucking magic. I can’t tell if it’s good or bad. But I know someone who can.”
The door bursts open, and General Shaw steps into my peripheral, his concern coming off him in waves. “You just talked to Tricia. You’re mated to the queen. She’s seen the mark. Yet, she didn’t divulge any information to you? Is this the real reason why you’re being secretive? As she grows in power, you’re losing your connection to her? It’s Catherine and Kane all over again. It’s the only logical reason why Tricia has yet to share this information with you.”
Am I losing my connection to my future wife as my power over my coven grows? Am I moving toward the light, while Tricia’s moving toward the darkness? As my love for her deepens, is her bond to me weakening? Is that why I feel her slipping away? How foolish have I been to have waited to wed her until she’s nearly eight months pregnant?
I funnel my concerns to my mate, hitting mental walls thicker than the PDU’s, but eventually, I break through with a question for her that I hope doesn’t destroy everything.
Chapter 4
Tricia
Riley plows into my mind right in the middle of the doctor’s office waiting room. But what did I expect? For my mate, Master Vampire of the entire world, to sit back, knowing how much he cares for me? “Riley, I’m okay. Really.”
“Marry me today. We can go to the justice of the peace. Or the on-base pastor. It’ll be quick, but I don’t care. I love you. I love our baby. She deserves committed parents.”
Instead of blaming my gooseflesh on the drafty doctor’s office, it’s Riley’s outlandish suggestion that stops me in my tracks. Okay. I’m being over dramatic. It’s not unheard of to rush marriage. But why does he insist that we marry and forego wedding plans he’s spent months fussing over? How much more committed can we be when we’re madly in love, blood-bonded, and severing our bond results in our deaths, as well as those who belong to Riley’s coven? Add in what feels like disjointed hips, an aching back, breasts that challenge my sports bra, a hankering for either Riley’s blood or fried chicken, and a wedding with all the frills? Tying a human contractual knot is the furthest thing from my mind.
Now, with this strange mark showing up, I have doubts about the pregnancy and birthing altogether. It’s not like I can do anything to stop nature at this point. And I have total faith in Riley, who adores me, but I’m feeling burdened when that’s not my normal way of seeing the world. My own people don’t approve of our union let alone our mixed-raced child. Could there really be any truth to what my grandmother claims? Is my pregnancy really cursed? “I know you want a wedding, but I’m not ready. Plus, how can I nap when I feel pressured about caterers, cakes, and gowns I’ll never fit into with my belly.”
“That wasn’t my intention to bother you. You know I love you.”
“I love you too. But love is enough for now.”
“I don’t think it is. You’re putting up a wall. I feel it. What do you need from me?”
I breathe a heavy sigh, thankful he can’t see me. I don’t want conflict to rise between us when I’m content with how things are. At least, I was until meeting with my grandmother. “We’ll talk tonight, okay?”
He pulls from my mind just enough to let me know he’s right outside my mental door if I should need him, but he’s not happy about it.
Sure hope my obstetrician can put me at ease. I can hope, right?
The inside of Dr. Sharma’s office is painted light pink to compliment the motherly paintings that adorn the walls. The cushioned seats are straight-backed but stiff as I take a seat. I feel the conflict all around me: Riley’s getting inside my head, searching for answers from me regarding my grandmother that even I’m yet to understand. The baby’s rolling and jabbing my ribs more so than usual, but I guess that’s because I’m sitting. Seems my irritation and inner turmoil is getting to her, too.
The woman beside me glances up from her magazine, narrowing her gaze as she stares.
Everywhere I go I feel judged.
“You’re the fae queen aren’t you? I have my hair done by your friend Stacey, you know, at Sparkles Salon. You look good. Pregnancy suits you. But aren’t you scared the baby will tear right out of your belly, you know, being half-vampire and all?”
Did she just seriously compare my pending delivery to a horror movie?
I squint, checking her out, her matching image forming in my mind as I recall seeing her at Sparkles. “Debbie, right?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
She’s barely showing compared to me, but I give her a comforting smile, even though I’m doing my best to keep Riley out of my head while trying not to show I’m offended.
“Your heart rate jumped.”
“Out,” I nearly mind-scream. “We’ll talk tonight.”
I don’t need him to go vampire-crazy until there’s something to freak about. In regards to Debbie, I switch subjects. “I’m having a girl.”
“A girl.” She cups her belly and seems to lose herself in thought.
I take time to do the same. Camille’s little girl seems healthy and happy. Even though my grandmother tried to evoke fear in me, she’s lied before. As soon as I make sure my baby is okay, I’ll talk to Riley about everything. Well, everything except for the wedding I’m not sure we should engage in right now.
I lean my head back against the wall and try to gather my wits. I don’t want to believe my grandmother. She’s just using whatever method she has to poke my negative emotions. It’s her way, as if she feeds off negativity and fear.
I wouldn’t put anything past Catherine.
“I haven’t felt my baby move yet and I’m twenty weeks,” Debbie murmurs. “I bet yours is dancing in there.”
I lean forward, facing her. Even I can sense her troubled concern, the air around me warming and licking at my skin. I’ve fed off Riley’s vampire darkness. I’m also acutely aware that the darkness floating within the room isn’t all coming from Debbie. Human angst and fae darkness are different. I’ve become accustomed to Riley’s shade of darkness. He’s part of me. I even used my dark magic to overpower my grandmother, and I wouldn’t have known how to lock onto that part of me if it weren’t for my fear of losing Riley. I close my eyes, searching for a sign this woman’s fetus is no longer viable.
Swish, swish, swish.