earth to keep you beside me—no divide, nothing but our naked skin … our souls.”
Tears speared into her eyes, and she forced them back, willing them to get gone and stay that way. Reaching up to his handsome face, she brushed her fingertips over his features.
“I love you, Trez.”
“God, I love you, too.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
When Layla woke up, she was lying on her side on a much softer surface than the vestibule’s floor. In a panic, she brought her hand to her belly.
Everything felt the same, the hard swelling, the size it had been—but dearest Virgin Scribe, had she injured the young? She could remember getting out of her car, struggling to walk over to the mansion’s entrance, losing consciousness—
“Young,” she mumbled. “Young okay? Young?”
Instantly, Qhuinn’s blue-and-green stare was right in front of her. “You’re all right—”
As if she cared about herself right now. “Young!”
With a curse, she thought, why had she ever complained about being pregnant? Maybe this was punishment for her having—
“Everything’s okay.” Qhuinn glanced across the room, focusing on someone she couldn’t see. “Fine, just … okay, yeah, fine.”
The relief was so great, tears flooded her eyes. If she had lost their young because she was meeting with Xcor? Because she’d been staring at him while he … did that to his sex?
She never would forgive herself.
With a curse, she wondered why had she asked that male to do those things. It was wrong on so many levels, adding to her guilt when she was already choking on the stuff.
After all, it was so much easier to take the high-road victim role if you were not asking your blackmailer to jerk off.
“Oh, God,” she moaned.
“Are you in pain? Shit, Jane—”
“I’m right here.” The good doctor knelt down beside Qhuinn, looking tired, but alert. “Hi there. We’re glad you’re back. Just so you know, Manny reset your arm. It was broken clean through. We’ve put it in a cast and…”
There was some kind of conversation about her recovery time and when the plaster could come off, but she didn’t pay attention to any of that. Doc Jane and Qhuinn were keeping something from her: Their smiles of reassurance were like photographs of the real thing—perfectly accurate, but flat.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she cut in.
Silence.
As she struggled to sit up, Blay was the one who helped her, gently grasping her good arm and giving her something to push against.
“What,” she demanded.
Doc Jane looked at Qhuinn. Qhuinn looked at Blay. And Blay … was the one who eventually met her eyes.
“There’s something unexpected,” the fighter said. “In the ultrasound.”
“If you make me ask ‘what’ again,” she gritted out, “I’m going to start throwing things, and to hell with my broken arm.”
“Twins.”
As if time and reality were a car that had suddenly had its brakes punched, there was a metaphoric screeching sound in her head.
Layla blinked. “I’m sorry … what?”
“Twins,” Qhuinn repeated. “The ultrasound is showing that you are carrying twins.”
“And they’re both perfectly healthy,” Doc Jane added. “One is significantly smaller, and its development has been delayed, but it appears viable. I didn’t catch the second fetus during your previous ultrasounds because I understand—from a consult with Havers—that vampire pregnancies are different from humans’. There was apparently another fertilized egg that had implanted but did not enter a significant embryogenesis stage until much later—your last ultrasound was two months ago, for example, and I did not see anything at that time.”
“Twins?” Layla choked out.
“Twins,” one of the three replied.
For some reason, she thought back to the moment when she’d found out she had, in fact, conceived. Even though pregnancy had been the goal, and she and Qhuinn had done what they’d had to do to get there, the news that the needing had been successful had been the kind that stunned. It just seemed so miraculous, and overwhelming—a joyous gauntlet that she was not entirely sure wouldn’t get the best of her.
This was the same.
Except without the joy.
She had known two of her sisters to carry twins, and one of the pregnancies had been lost. The other had resulted in only a single, living young.
Tears started to fall from her eyes.
This was not good news.
“Hey.” Blay leaned down with a handkerchief. “This is not bad. It’s not.”
Qhuinn nodded, although his face remained a mask. “It’s … unexpected. But not at all bad.”
Layla put her hands to her stomach. Two. There were two young that she now had to get over the ultimate finish line safely.
Two.
Dearest Virgin Scribe, how had this happened?