And none too soon.
A second creature came out of nowhere, oddly reminding me of a thick, hairy carpet with limbs, and barreled straight at me, its tusklike teeth bared. I swore, jumped sideways, and swung Amaya hard. The creature was big – both in height and in width – but it was surprisingly nimble, and the blade hit nothing but air.
The creature swung a paw the size of a shovel, its long fur streaming out behind it like banners. I ducked under the blow, twisted around, and sliced the back of its tendons. Blood spurted – thick, green, and stinking to high heaven – but it didn't go down. Instead it jumped high, did a midair tumble, and came down behind me – a maneuver that took barely an instant. I stabbed backward with Amaya, then leapt away. But the creature's thick fingers caught the hem of my dress and dragged me back toward it. I swore again and lashed at it over my head. Shadowed steel met hairy face, and split its skin from eye to chin. Flames leapt from Amaya's sides and danced across the creature's face, attacking its eyes and filling the air with the thick scent of burning flesh and hair. The creature howled and flicked me sideways, as if I were nothing more than a feather. I hit a kitchen cabinet with another grunt, but scrambled upright fast as the creature charged me again. Amaya's flames had engulfed its entire head, so I had no idea whether it could see me or not, but I wasn't about to take a chance. I called to the Aedh and swiftly changed, then moved around behind the creature. Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on the arm that held Amaya and brought it back into being. Then I swung my sword, as hard as I could, at the creature's neck.
Amaya hissed as she slid easily through flesh and bone alike, her sparks and the creature's blood flying all around me. As her steel came free, the creature's head rolled sideways from its neck and dropped to the floor with a wet splat. A second later its body followed. I re-formed, somehow keeping to my feet even as my head swam and bile rose up my throat, and swung around.
There were two dead creatures at Azriel's feet, and a heartbeat later a third joined them. He spun, Valdis blazing in his hand, his gaze sweeping the room. There were bloody rents across his right shoulder and thigh, but neither wound looked particularly deep.
His gaze met mine, and the tension in his shoulders eased. "Are you all right?"
"Yes." I hesitated, eyes widening a little as my stomach rose. "Make that a no."
I bolted for the sink. Azriel was beside me in an instant, and though he offered no comfort, his closeness was enough.
"To repeat my earlier question," he said, once I'd finished throwing up. "Are you all right?"
"Yes." I turned on the tap, scooped up some water, and rinsed out my mouth. "But if I'm going to spend the next nine months throwing up my dinner every time a bad guy carks it, I'm going to be royally pissed."
"So this is a result of the pregnancy?" He tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ears, his touch warm against my skin.
"Probably." I gave him a twisted half smile. "I can remember Mom saying she did nothing but throw up in the first trimester. And given that I've generally managed to hold on to my stomach when a bad guy has gone splat, it's a good bet that being pregnant is the problem."
"And is this" – he motioned toward the sink, his expression bemused – "a common problem with nonhuman females? Because it does not seem very efficient to me."
I grinned. "Is that how reapers go through pregnancy? Efficiently?"
"Of course. It benefits the mother and the child to do so."