I pictured that—how different things would be for Mike if he’d just stayed in Australia the first time he left me. “I do know you’re right. But it’s crushing to think that maybe his happiness won’t be where I am.”
“Or more so where Em isn’t, Ara. It’s not just you that broke his heart.”
I pouted. “Poor Mike.”
“He’ll live. He’s not as squishy as he looks.”
I grinned up at Falcon. “Don’t let
him
hear you say he looks squishy.”
Falcon scratched the back of his neck. “Why not? If he looks squishy then I must look squishy.”
“Why?”
“Well, people always say we’re twins.”
I laughed and poked his belly, considering the flesh under my fingertip. “Yep. Squishy.”
“Hey!” He grabbed my hand. “Be nice. At least I have a six-pack. All you’ve got is a bowl of spaghetti.”
I cupped my rounded bulge and leaned back a bit to poke it out. “No argument there.”
***
It was no use. The Vampires and Lilithians were still divided when it came to the Pledge that my House and I had concocted in our last meeting. Of around five hundred vampires that were now under the Lilithian rule, only two hundred had signed the agreement to feed from humans without killing them. We all knew it was a long shot—that changing the ways of a vampire would take time and there would be mistakes made—but the fact that a great divide had slithered its way into my own dining hall and become a topic of debate over the roast beef left me feeling a bit hopeless. The king had been the first to sign on, leading by example, but even he’d slipped up a few times—been down to the kill suites to quench his inner-most demon, and enough people knew about that little trip now for it to have opened a vein of doubt among the Pledgers. But it
was
possible for vampires to feed without killing. It was hard, yeah, but still possible. As long as they didn’t bite and as long as they didn’t go too long between feeds, we could live in a world where humans were safe around their kind.
After I’d heard more than enough of the pros and cons of the Pledge—more cons than pros—I excused myself and left the dinner table before dessert.
“Amara?” Arthur grabbed my arm as I reached the corridor.
“Yes, Arthur?”
“That medical equipment I ordered last month arrived. If you don’t mind, I’d like to perform a more thorough examination on you.”
“But you just did a full checkup—only
two days
ago,” I whined.
“I know. But the ultrasound machine is here,” he said, a smile mirroring my changing expression. “I’d like to try it out on you.”
“Does it … I mean, is it working?”
“I tested it on Falcon.” He grinned. “Got a nice view of his bowel.”
I laughed loudly. “Was it full?”
“Oh, you know Falcon—” He started walking. “He’s not really very full of…”
“Bullshit?” I suggested.
Arthur coughed, tapping his chest with a curled fist. “The joke would have been just as effective left unfinished, my dear, but … yes.”
“So … what about Jason’s theory—the reason you can’t hear the baby’s heartbeat?”
“It is, at this point, just a theory.” We both took the steps toward the East Wing, Arthur shifting quickly to my other side, leaving me nearest to the railing. “All we can do is test the scanner on you and see what happens.”
Baby did a twist and dive in my belly at that idea. Or maybe that was just excitement. “Imagine if we actually got to see her.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“Hey,” Falcon said, coming down the stairs ahead of us at a bit of a trot, a large hardback book tucked under his arm.
“Hey,” I said. “You missed dinner.”
“I know.” He winked at me, then looked at Arthur. “You headed up to the lab?”
“We are. Will you be joining us?”
“In a minute.” He tapped the book under his arm. “Just returning this to the library.”
Arthur nodded, stopping a few steps back from me. “Did you complete the assessment in the back?”
Falcon’s head moved in a nod, angling inconspicuously back at me after. “I’ll talk to you about it later.”
“Very well.” Arthur started walking again. “See you in a few minutes.”
“Bye,” I said with a wave, acknowledging my own existence, since they clearly hadn’t.
“Sorry about that, my dear.”
I caught up to Arthur again, following his lead down the third floor corridor toward the attic stairwell. “What was he reading?”
“He was studying, actually.”
“Studying what?”
Arthur didn’t look at me, but I saw the ghost of a smile slip across his lips, making his face seem younger and yet older, all at the same time. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you about it soon.”
“About what?”
“After you,” he offered, opening a door for me—the one right across from David’s room.
“Arthur? Don’t ignore my question.” I ducked inside the closet-like space and moved up two steps to make room for Arthur. “What’s he up to?”
“Nothing that concerns you until he’s ready to discuss it.”
The sternness in his tone snuffed my curiosity for now. “Fine.”
***
I laid back on the table in the middle of the room, my hands over my belly, looking at the roof. The attic was a very open space, with high ceilings and exposed oak beams, but the small square windows allowed very little light in. Arthur had knocked the joining walls out, turning three rooms into one, setting up the far side as an office, with a fireplace, a giant leather seat behind a mahogany desk, and shelves stacked with medical journals. The middle of the room, where I was situated, was now decked out to look like an obstetrician’s office, complete with an ultrasound machine and some of those metal poles they hung fluid bags off. And off to my right was what I guessed he called the lab: two neat shelves clung to the walls, long and stuffed with jars and packages, the ends meeting in the corner, with a long, clean counter underneath—clearly where he mixed his herbs and made potions. There were cupboards under the countertop, the doors wood aside from one or two, where a pestle and mortar, actually two or three of different sizes, sat beside some beakers and test tubes. It was an ultimately neat and orderly room, with a warm feel and a kind of brown glow, probably from the rather dim globes overhead casting their light down on the polished wood floors. I never felt uncomfortable or nervous in here. Until now.
Arthur dabbed a wad of slime onto the head of a little dome-shaped implement that he then pressed to my bare skin, moving it up and around my belly, his eyes on the screen beside the bed. I waited patiently for him to get an image, tapping my fingertips against my ribs.
“Ara,” he said, stern eyes suddenly on me now. “Stop that tapping.”
“Sorry.” I laid the culprits down by my sides and turned my head to see the monitor. “Do you really think you’ll be able to see anything?”
“At this point, I’m beginning to think Jason was right—that your abdominal skin cells coat themselves in a protective layer during pregnancy.”
“Personally,
I’ve
always agreed with him. I mean, otherwise, why can we hear my heartbeat, but not the baby’s?”
Arthur nodded absently, clicking away on the keyboard. He stopped then and looked up at the globe hanging down from the beam on the roof. “I might just turn this light out.”
“I got it,” Falcon said, closing the door as he came in.
“Ah, thank you, Falcon.”
“No worries.”
The light went out and the glow from the screen dominated the small space around me and Arthur, illuminating the keyboard, the pale grey stand holding up the screen, and the sheet under my yellow sweater.
“Have you asked her yet?” Falcon stood behind Arthur, his arms folded, peering critically over his shoulder.
“No. I haven’t,” Arthur replied in that business-like manner, focusing all his attention on the image: it was nothing but a distorted grey and white mess, though, going black as he moved the dome down and pushed it into the softness just above my pubic bone. “I thought it best you mention it yourself,” he added after way too long to have considered it a part of his previous answer.
Falcon tensed slightly.
“What is it, Falcon?” I reached my hand out for him.
He came around to the left of the bed and took it. “Arthur and I were thinking…”
Arthur smiled at the screen, listening but not really playing part.
“Spill it,” I said, giving his hand a firm squeeze. “What’s up?”
“Uh…” A sharp little line made an indent above the bridge of his nose—his worried line—and his small, smiling eyes rounded, making him look like a doctor delivering bad news to a patient. “So, it’s nearly time to bring in a professional to care for you and, eventually, deliver the baby—”
My eyes snapped across to Arthur. “I thought
you
were doing that?”
He shook his head, blue eyes remaining on the screen. “It seems my medical knowledge, by today’s standards, are far less than even Falcon’s.”
“
You
have medical knowledge?” I asked, smirking at Falcon. “Oh, right, you can change a band aid and administer blood to vampires.”
He laughed once, but Arthur just frowned at us. “She doesn’t know?”
“I left it out of my application.”
Arthur nodded respectfully and went back to his task, drawing the dome away from my belly then wiping me clean with some dry paper towel.
“What’d you leave out, Fal?” I asked, ignoring all the commotion around my midsection.
He folded one hand lightly around a loose fist and leaned forward a bit, the shadows of the dark room making that sandy-brown stubble look black. “After I finished high school, I was charged with the care of my little sister. My olds had left enough inheritance for us to live off for a few years so, instead of ending up in some dead-end job when the funds dried up, I went to study as an Emergency Medical Technician.”
“You’re kidding!” I almost sat up.
Arthur pressed my shoulders down and lifted my top a little more to dig his firm fingertips into the flat bit above my bulge, laying a tape measure over it after.
“I ran away after my sister died,” Falcon added. “Signed up with the army. I haven't worked in the medical field for…” He counted in his head. “Ten years—”
“How old are you!”
He hesitated, looking at Arthur before responding. “Thirty-five.”
“Oh my God! You old man.” I laughed. “You’re older in human years than Arthur.”
“Not by much,” Arthur said in playful spite, pulling my top down for me.
“Anyway,” Falcon continued, taking my hand to help me sit up. “I thought, maybe…” He went back to hesitating.
“Since Falcon learned of your pregnancy, he’s been seeing me nightly to research and study,” Arthur said, lifting my top at the back. “He wanted to be qualified enough to deliver the child should the need arise, given that he’s responsible for you ten hours out of a day.”
I nodded, slouching a bit to stop my shirt slipping back down my ribs.
“So…” Falcon said. “Arthur suggested, maybe, instead of bringing in some stranger to deliver the baby…”
“You could do it?” I asked, sitting straighter. “Are you qualified enough?”
He looked at Arthur.
“Yes.” Arthur lifted my top again. “And he will be even more so by the time she arrives.”
“We’ve been seeing human patients,” Falcon said, still cupping his own hand nervously. “I take a trip out to the human town every few weeks and spend the day shadowing an obstetrician.”
My brows went up.
“That’s why Blade’s been taking my shifts.”
“So, you’re overworking poor Blade just so you can be my doctor?”
He nodded. “I’m thinking about taking guards off you during the day anyway, Ara. Things have settled down a lot around here and, in my opinion, you really only need one at night and when you leave the manor.”
“But this is not the issue at hand,” Arthur cut in. “A decision needs to be made, because the intensity of your studies will increase should Amara approve.”
Falcon looked at me, waiting.
“Do you trust
yourself
?” I asked. If he trusted himself, I certainly could.
“I’m still a little unsure—”
“But you’re immortal, Amara,” Arthur offered, running the slime-covered dome down my back. “If anything goes wrong, we can just cut the baby out and give you blood.”
I cringed. “Remind me not to come see you if I have appendicitis or something.”
He laughed.
“It’s uh—” Falcon leaned down and grabbed a chair from behind him, pulling it close so he sat right in front of my knees. “I know what I’m doing, Ara. And I
do
trust myself, but I am nervous.”
“Well, that’s healthy, right? I mean, you’ve never delivered a baby before?”