“BP’s still fine. Do you have any dizziness? Headache? Chest pains or nausea?”
“Feels like I passed a bowling ball. My back aches. Nothing else.”
“Let me listen.”
As he slid the scope under her shirt, she grunted and tensed, her back arching. “Ouch. Shit. Why is that still happening? I’m done.”
“Afterbirth.” He went back to her feet. “Hang in there. Almost finished.”
Brian didn’t watch as messy-sounding things happened down there. He didn’t want to look at the baby, or Lori, so he fixed his eyes on Nick’s feet, familiar jeans, familiar sneakers. Maybe we can get out of here soon.
Water sloshed. Brian tracked Nick’s feet as he crossed the room to get something. Oh. A clean sheet. Bedclothes rustled. Zander’s feet passed Nick’s, maybe doing another exam on Lori. The smell of blood faded, but Brian’s head still felt thick and stuffed up.
“I don’t know what happened after your water broke, but you seem fine now.” Zander sounded calm. “You don’t have any seizure history, right?”
“Nope.” Lori shifted in the bed, hissed under her breath. “When do I get to see my kid? Man, that sucked, but as long as he’s healthy…”
Brian glanced up at her. “And you too, Lor.” He wouldn’t trade that baby for his sister.
She grinned, looking younger than ever with her hair all tousled and sticking to her damp forehead. Her skin was freckled across her cheekbones, and abruptly Brian remembered Lori like that, years back, a sister who took him to the playground and kept an eye out for the big kids while he swung. She said, “He’s here and he’s okay!”
Zander eased the baby out of Charlie’s hold. “Healthy baby boy. He’s pale, but that’s probably his natural skin tone. Nice dark-blue eyes, so no worries about albinism. Looks like his mother.”
Brian allowed his gaze to dip briefly to the bundle in Zander’s arms. He could make out the bald curve of the infant’s head, and a tiny arm and hand, the little fingers curled tight. “He’s so small! You’re sure he’s okay?” Maybe he’s not mine.
“He’s a fine big boy. Eight pounds. Newborns always seem small when you’re not used to them.” Zander walked over to Lori, cradling the baby, who began fussing as he loosened its blanket. “Here, Mama, we’re going to put him on your chest for some skin-to-skin bonding time.”
Lori said “Brian, don’t look,” and lifted the loose T-shirt she was wearing enough to bare part of her front. She reached up eagerly as Zander bent to lay the naked infant on her. “Aaaahiiii!” Lori’s back arched, almost dumping the baby. She wailed again, thinly and without words. Her eyes scrunched shut and her arms tucked in, hands curling.
“Whoa!” Zander grabbed the infant up in his arms, whirled, and shocked Brian by taking a long step and pressing the child into his arms. “Here! Hold him!”
Before Brian could protest, he had an armful of baby and Zander had whirled back to bend over Lori. Brian looked down and met a pair of wide, deep-blue eyes…
Worry and weirdness swirled in Brian’s brain, as he tried to hold the fragile scrap of an infant properly. The baby had near-transparent eyelashes and no hair Brian could see, beyond a fine, pale fuzz that extended down over his forehead, ears and even his shoulders. Under the fuzz, his skin was milky pale, though his lips, cheeks, and tiny fingers had a hint of pink. Brian cradled him closer, and the baby blinked up at him, blue eyes slightly crossed.
Without meaning to, Brian opened his Finder eye. White. Silver. White. The trace wasn’t a ribbon, not a thread like he was used to, and even though he was touching the infant, it didn’t shut down and fade like normal. There was a flood of light all around them, a cone maybe, as if all the brightness of his Finding world was pulled down, the colors blending to white, toward this little child—
“Brian! Brian!” Nick’s voice came from far away. “Brian!”
Before he could react, the baby was lifted out of his arms. “Hey!” He blinked and reached out. Then realized that Damon, of all people, stood two feet away, holding the child.
What the hell?
Nick grabbed him in a hard hug. “Are you okay? You were completely out of it!”
“I was—” He turned to Nick. “I don’t get it. How did Damon get here?”
“Walked in the door,” Damon said, lifting the baby to his shoulder with stunning assurance. The baby whimpered, and he patted its tiny back.