“Dylan knows it too, obviously,” Mary observed drily. “Which is why he went off the deep end.” She shook her head, and tried for humor. “You two and your exes.”
The lighthearted words were more than a little forced, but this time Tom was ready to heed the intention behind them. I watched as he slowly, deliberately unclenched his tense muscles, forcing his body to relax first, then his mind. It was a good thing, too, because distantly I heard the shower shut off.
“Right,” Joe’s voice was a little higher pitched than usual, as if he’d been really afraid of what might happen. I certainly had been. “So, one thing at a time. We start with the hospital.”
IT WAS EIGHT-THIRTY by the time Joe pulled into the parking lot behind the emergency room at St. Elizabeth’s. It had taken a while for everyone to get ready. I’d changed into a pair of black jeans, black polo shirt, and a brand-new black leather jacket that Joe had bought me. It wasn’t as heavy as an actual biker jacket, but it was better than mere cloth, and I wanted to show him that I appreciated everything he was doing for me. Whether it was Mary, the therapy, or both, I didn’t know, but these past few days I’d been seeing a side of Joe that had all but vanished since our parents’
death.
Tom was wearing an almost identical outfit, but in blue and brown. Both the shirt and jeans were new enough to still be crisp with sizing and a deep, vibrant color that always seems to fade out after the first few washings. His brown leather bomber-style jacket was back, or replaced, and the color looked perfect with his dark curls and brown eyes. I probably should have noticed what everyone else was wearing; but honestly, I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of Tom.
I was nervous, twitchy and high-strung. I couldn’t seem to help it. Tom is usually so calm and reasonable, the perfect foil for my temper. I’ve gotten used to holding hands, having him slide his arm around my waist—small, reassuring touches. Not today. He was still too angry. Oh, he had it under control, and I didn’t think his rage was directed at me, but he’d pulled himself in on himself. It was affecting everyone. Casual conversation had all but ceased, making for a long, uncomfortable car ride.
We crossed the parking lot in a group, with Joe in the lead. He was carrying an empty box in one hand. Mary walked beside him. They weren’t touching, but somehow you just knew they were a couple. Body language, probably. I couldn’t define it, but it was there. And despite everything I found myself smiling. Joe had found a woman who was right for him, who made him happy. She was strong in all the right ways, capable of standing up to him when need be, and standing behind him when he needed that. I was so glad.
I turned to look at the man who did all that for me and saw him watching me. His expression had softened, probably in reaction to what he was seeing on my face. He reached out, and I slid comfortably into the crook of his arm, sliding my arm around his waist, reveling in the warmth of him and the scents of leather and clean skin. When Elaine scowled at us we both chose an attitude of lofty indifference, although I did have to fight down the wild urge to just flip her off and be done with it.
The glass doors slid open as we came up the walk, but before they did I caught a glimpse of our reflection in the glass. We looked dangerous, coming in as a group. We might mean no harm, but that didn’t change the appearance of it. The effect was impressive, right up until Tom whispered a movie quote in my ear: “We bad, we bad.” He probably would’ve started strutting like Richard Pryor if I hadn’t given him a warning squeeze. Nobody else I knew would’ve gotten the joke, but Tom and I love Gene Wilder movies. We’d spent a Saturday evening at home munching popcorn and watching a double-feature of Stir Crazy and Blazing Saddles on DVD just a couple of weeks ago.
Mary gave us a look over her shoulder, but not a glare. “All right, you two. Behave yourselves.”
“Yes’m … ma’am.” I had been about to say “yes, mother,” but sarcasm probably wasn’t appropriate in front of company. With Janine out of the picture, Mary was the Acca of Tom’s pack. Family or not, we were supposed to show her respect in public. We’d just stepped inside when the first nurse caught sight of Joe. She stepped around the desk holding a clipboard to front of her Looney Toons scrubs.
She cried out in mock alarm, “No, Joe … not a box. Dammit! You are not leaving us.”
At her words staff members started poking their heads out from behind desks, office doors, and various cotton curtains. Several voices called out my brother’s name. More than a few groaned when they saw what he was carrying. A slender black woman with graying hair came up. I recognized her, but couldn’t place the name. “It’s official then, you’re quitting?”
“Yeah. I got the job at DG—thanks in part to your recommendation. Thanks.”
“Every word was true. We’re really going to miss you around here. Makes me wish I would’ve lied.”
Joe laughed. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
He was in his element. These were his people, his friends. I knew he’d miss them terribly. But the job at DG was going to be a great move for him. And there he wouldn’t have to deal with a lot of the political bullshit he had here. Oh, there’d probably be other political bullshit. There almost always is. But at least it would be different, and it probably wouldn’t involve the vampires.
Mary spoke up. “Darling, we need to get moving. Meet you back here in forty-five minutes?”
“Sounds good.” He smiled at her. “It shouldn’t take any longer than that.”
We followed Mary down a wide, well-lit hallway with pale gray walls and sparkling linoleum to stop in front of a set of elevator doors. “Elaine,” Mary’s voice was sweet, light, sugar with just the hint of something uglier underneath.
“You’d mentioned you wanted to buy our surrogate a baby gift to make up for what Janine did. If you’re still interested, the gift shop is just down that hall to the left about twenty yards.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” If she was joking, it fell flat. Then again, I got the impression she didn’t joke much. At least not with the likes of us. Maybe around everybody else she was a barrel of laughs. I’d probably never be in a position to find out.
“Actually, yes. I am.” Mary answered her forthrightly. “We have some private pack business I want to take care of. I’m sure you understand.” Saccharine this time, accompanied by a mile-wide smile that would have done a used car salesman or televangelist proud.
“Fine. I’ll meet you upstairs in fifteen minutes.” She sounded huffy, but at least she left.
“Thank-you so much,” Mary called out as Elaine stalked out of sight. Only when we were safely inside the elevator with the doors closed did she say “God, how I hate that woman.”
“I think the feeling’s mutual, boss,” Tom said. “Watch your back.”
The bell rang as the elevator eased to a stop. “I always do,” she answered as she passed through the doors that whooshed open.
We followed her down another wide hallway. We were obviously on the floor with the nursery, as the hall had wallpaper with flowers and colorful cartoon figures of baby ducks and geese. We slowed a little walking past the wall of glass windows looking in on rows of newborns in identical white bassinets. It occurred to me that I didn’t know Ruby’s last name, so I couldn’t pick out which of the tiny infants behind the glass was hers. Mary led us to the last room on the left. It was semiprivate, which meant Ruby only had one roommate. The roommate had taken the bed next to the door, and was filling it to overflowing. She was huge, easily 350 pounds. She lay there blithely breastfeeding the biggest infant I’d ever seen in my life, in full view of the open door and anyone who happened to walk by.
I don’t think of myself as being a prude, but I’m kind of old school. If you’re going to breast-feed in public, fine, but be a little discreet; use a baby blanket or something to cover yourself so the whole world doesn’t have to watch. Apparently Ruby’s roommate didn’t agree.
I hurried past her bed toward the young woman propped up in the next bed, holding a tiny red-faced bundle wearing a pink hat.
“You had the baby.” I hurried over to her bedside to get a better look. “Is she okay? Are you okay?” I asked the second question because she’d been crying, hard. And like many blondes, me included, she didn’t do it well. Her nose was chapped, her eyes bloodshot and swollen.
“She’s fine. She’s beautiful.” Ruby’s voice was choked with tears. She held the baby out for me to hold and I took her in my arms. She was so tiny and light that it didn’t even hurt the arm in the cast to do it.
“What’s her name?” Tom asked the question gently. He’d come up behind me and was reaching around me to stroke the baby’s cheek with a single finger. His breath was warm against my neck as he leaned in close. He was obviously just as enchanted by the infant as I was.
“I figured I’d let her parents name her.”
I looked at Ruby in shock. I couldn’t have heard her correctly. She’d been crazy about Jake. The pack had saved her from the street. Surely they weren’t making her—I turned to Mary.
“Don’t look at me. It’s not my idea. We’re more than happy to help her keep and raise the baby.” She held up her hands in a warding gesture, as if she sensed that I was ready to fight for Ruby’s right to keep the child.
“Nobody can force you to give up your child, Ruby.” Tom spoke gently to her. “We won’t let them.”
“It’s not Janine, or the pack.” Ruby’s voice was tight with the tears she was fighting, but she held her head high.
“It’s my decision. I want my baby to have two parents who can protect her and who will take care of her, no matter what. I want her to have a real home with people who will raise her to be the kind of person I can be proud of.”
“But—” I started to interrupt, but she talked over the top of me, her voice gaining strength with each word she uttered.
“My mother threw out my stepfather. They’re getting a divorce. She says if I give up the baby I can come home. I want to go home, Kate. I’ve missed her so much—missed so much of my life living out on the streets. I want to finish high school, go to a prom … maybe get a real job that I earned instead of something that someone gave me because they felt sorry for me.” She looked long and hard at the baby, then stroked a gentle finger across the tiny forehead.
“But it’s not fair to this baby that her mother’s still a kid. But I have to be sure, really sure that she’ll be all right; that she’s going to be okay.”
I thought I knew what was coming, but I didn’t know what to say. My God, was she really going to—
She swallowed hard and then the tears began to flow again. “Dusty’s different—she thinks like an adult. Robbie would be fine even if something happened to Rob. If Jake were alive we could raise the baby together. But he’s not. And I can’t do it without him. I’m just not that strong … physically or emotionally.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. Her eyes met mine. In that gaze was a burning intensity that demanded complete and total honesty. “Mary tells me you can’t have children, but that you want them. Is that true?”
I turned my head so I could see Tom’s expression. He was standing so very still, as if he barely dared breathe. He wanted this, wanted it so badly he didn’t even dare hope; wanted it almost as badly as I did.
“Yes.” My voice came out as a croak; my throat was too tight with emotion for me to be able to speak normally.
“Tom’s strong enough to handle her when she gets older and you won’t put up with any shit either. I’d like you both to have her, to adopt her.” She paused, suddenly unsure of herself. “If you want her, that is.”
“Ruby.” Tom’s voice was hushed, almost awed. “I don’t know what to say.”
Her tears were falling again, and her voice was thick and wet with them. “I’ll sign whatever papers they say I have to so she’s yours forever. Just promise me you’ll send me word once in a while. Let me know she’s okay.”
“We can do better than that.” Tom turned to the bed and took her hand. “If you’re really sure this is what you want, we can make it an open adoption. You can come see her, spend time with her. She can even know you’re her biological mom.” He looked at me when he said it, making sure I agreed. I did, completely. If Ruby wanted to be a part of the baby’s life, I wanted her to have that chance. I truly believed it would be the best thing for her and for the baby.
“I’d like that.” She gave us a watery smile and reached out to gently touch the child. Our child. My God. I had a baby.
But oh Lord—Dylan, the vampires. Did we dare? I looked at Tom. I wanted this, wanted her. But I wouldn’t, couldn’t risk—
Mary saw the look I exchanged with Tom, knew what it meant without my saying a word.
“We have a couple of days. The baby has to stay here in the hospital, we’ll keep someone on guard at all times. By the time she’s ready to come home the Conclave, and the crisis, will be over.”
Are you sure? What if…
Reilly, if Shea so much as thinks about doing anything to hurt that child I will hunt him down and kill him myself. You and Tom want the baby. Ruby needs you to raise her. I’m not letting some asshole vampire screw this up.
“What are you going to name her?” Ruby asked as she took the tiny hand in hers, letting the infant grab her finger. Tom coughed, and I could tell he was fighting to hold his emotions in check. Even Mary wasn’t unmoved. So I said what I was thinking, and hoped Tom wouldn’t object. “What do you think of the name Jacqueline Ruby Bishop?”
“I think that would be perfect,” Tom whispered. “Absolutely perfect.”
“I’ll have them put it on the birth certificate,” Ruby said.
“Jacqueline Ruby, yes,” Mary agreed. “But not Bishop. Not until after the Conclave.”
Ruby stared at her, aghast. “You’re not going to let those assholes break them up, are you?”
“No. Of course not,” Mary assured her.
“If Tom’s listed as the father on the birth certificate, then Kate’s
automatically a surrogate when they marry. Nobody will break them up. But there are some things going on that make it safer for Jacqueline if nobody knows about the adoption until she can come home from the hospital. So we’ll keep this just between us.”