The King

SIX

“Is he alive?”

Beth heard the words come out of her mouth, but was only half aware of having spoken them. It was just too terrifying when a guy as strong as John Matthew went over like that—and worse? He’d surfaced for a minute and a half, tried to communicate something to her, and passed out cold again.

“Good,” Doc Jane said as she pressed a stethoscope to his heart. “Okay, I need my blood pressure—”

Blay pressed the floppy cuff into the doctor’s hands and the woman worked fast, wrapping it around John’s bulging biceps and puffing up its inner tube. There was a long hiss that was too loud, and Beth leaned back against her hellren as they waited for the results.

It seemed to take forever. Meanwhile, Xhex was cradling John’s head in her lap—and God, that was a hard spot: Someone you love down and out, no clue what was going to happen next.

“A little on the low side,” Jane muttered as she ripped the Velcro free of itself. “But nothing catastrophic—”

John’s eyes began to open, the lids flipping up and down.

“John?” Xhex said roughly. “Are you coming back to me?”

Apparently he was. He turned to his mate’s voice and lifted a shaking hand, clasping her palm and staring into her eyes. Some kind of energy exchange seemed to take place, and a moment later, John sat up. Stood up. Was only a little on the wobbly side as the pair embraced and stood soul to soul for a long while.

When her brother finally turned to her, Beth broke free of Wrath and hugged the younger male fiercely. “I’m so sorry.”

John pulled back and signed, What for?

“I don’t know. I just don’t want— I don’t know.”

As she threw her hands up, he shook his head. You didn’t do anything wrong. Beth—seriously. I’m okay and it’s cool.

Meeting his blue eyes, she searched them as if the answer to what had happened and what he’d been saying could be read there. “What were you trying to tell me?” she whispered aloud.

The instant she heard what she’d said, she cursed. Now was hardly the time. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask that—”

Was I saying something? he signed.

“Let’s give him some space,” Wrath said. “Xhex, you wanna take your man to your room.”

“Amen to that.” The broad-shouldered female stepped in, hooking a hold around John’s waist and marching him off down the hall of statues.

Doc Jane put her equipment back in her little black bag. “It’s time to find out what’s causing those.”

Wrath cursed softly. “Does he have medical clearance to fight?”

She got to her feet, her smart eyes narrowing. “He’s going to hate me, but no. I want to do an MRI on him first. Unfortunately, for that, we’re going to have to make some arrangements.”

“How can I help?” Beth asked.

“I’ll go talk to Manny now. Havers doesn’t have that kind of equipment and neither do we.” Doc Jane dragged a hand through her short blond hair. “I have no clue how we’re going to get him into St. Francis, but that’s where we need to go.”

“What do you think could be wrong?” Beth interjected.

“No offense, but you don’t want to know. Right now, let me start pulling strings and—”

“I’m going to go with him.” Beth stared so hard at V’s shellan, it was a wonder she didn’t burn a hole in the woman’s head. “If he has to get that test done, I’m going with.”

“Fine, but we’ll keep the team to an absolute minimum. This is going to be hard enough to pull off without taking an army with us.”

Vishous’s mate turned away and jogged down the stairs, and as she went, she gradually lost her form, her body’s weight and presence dissipating until she was a ghostly apparition floating down the carpet.

Spook or solid, it didn’t matter, Beth thought. She’d rather be treated by that woman than anyone else on the planet.

Oh, God … John.

Beth turned to Blay and Qhuinn. “Do either of you know what he was trying to communicate?”

Both of them glanced over at Wrath. And then promptly shook their heads.

“Liars,” she muttered. “Why won’t you tell me—”

Wrath started to massage her shoulders, like he wanted to calm the little woman down—and didn’t that suggest that even if the particulars were unknown because of his blindness, he had read the emotions. He was like that. He knew something.

“Just let it go, leelan.”

“Do not play boys’ club with me,” she said, pulling away and glaring at the cock-and-balls brigade. “That’s my brother—and he was trying to talk to me. I deserve to be in on this.”

Blay and Qhuinn got busy looking at the carpet. The mirror over the side table next to the study’s open doors. Their fingernails.

Clearly, they were hoping a wormhole would open up under their shitkickers.

Well, too bad, boys—life wasn’t an epi of Doctor Who. And you know what? The idea that pair—as well as every other male in the house—would always defer to Wrath made her even more pissed off. But short of stamping her feet and looking like a total ass, she had no choice but to shelve the fight for later when she and her mate had some privacy.

“Leelan—”

“My ice cream is melting,” she muttered as she went over and picked up the tray. “It would make my night if any of you three would get real with me. But I shouldn’t hold my breath for that, should I.”

As she marched off, the sense of foreboding that followed her was nothing new—ever since Wrath had been shot, she’d felt like another shoe was going to drop at any moment, and gee, seeing her brother on the carpet did so much to improve that paranoia.

Not.

Coming up to the door that had been Blay’s before he’d moved in with Qhuinn, she pulled herself together.

It didn’t work, but she knocked anyway. “Layla?”

“Come in,” was the muffled reply.

Balancing the tray awkwardly on her hip, it was hard to get a good hold on the knob—

Payne, V’s sister, opened things up with a smile. And man, she was an impressive presence, especially in all that black leather: She was the only female on rotation to fight in the field with the Brothers—and she must have just come home from a shift.

“Good evening, my queen.”

“Oh, thanks.” Beth hitched her load up and entered the lavender bedroom. “I’m bringing provisions.”

Payne shook her head. “I rather think it’s going to be necessary. I can’t imagine there’s anything left in her stomach—in fact, I believe she’s evacuated all the food she ate last week, too.”

As retching sounds drifted out of the bathroom, they both winced.

Beth eyed the bowl of Breyers. “Maybe I should come back later—”

“Don’t you dare,” the Chosen called out. “I feel great!”

“Doesn’t sound that way—”

“I’m hungry! Don’t you dare leave.”

Payne shrugged. “She has an amazing attitude. I come in here to get inspired—although not to go into my needing, which is why I need to leave now.”

While V’s sister shuddered again, like a female’s cycle and the whole baby thing was nothing she was interested in, Beth put the tray on top of an antique bureau. “Well, actually … that’s what I’m hoping for.”

Payne’s poleaxed expression made her curse. “What I mean is … um…”

Yeah, how to dig her way out of this one.

“You and Wrath are going to have a young?”

“No, no, no—hold on.” As she put her palms up, she tried to develop a bailout plan. “Ah…”

Payne’s embrace was fast as a gust and as strong as a male’s, crushing the breath out of Beth’s lungs. “This is wonderful news—”

Beth pushed her way out of those iron bars. “Actually, we’re not there yet. I’m just … look, don’t tell Wrath I’m in here, okay?”

“So you want to surprise him! How romantic!”

“Yeah, he’ll be surprised, all right.” As Payne gave her a strange look, Beth shook her head. “Look, to be honest, I don’t know that my needing will necessarily be good news.”

“An heir to the throne could really help him, though. If you’re thinking politically.”

“I’m not and I never will.” Beth put her hand on her stomach and tried to imagine something other than three squares and a couple of desserts in it. “I just … really want a baby, and I’m not sure he’s on board. If it happens, though … well, maybe it’ll be a good thing.”

Actually, he’d told her once he didn’t see children in their future. But that had been a while ago and …

Payne gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “I’m happy for you—and I hope this works. But as I said, I better go, because if that old superstition is true, I don’t want to find myself in trouble.” She turned to the bathroom’s partially closed door. “Layla! I have to head out!”

“Thanks for coming by! Beth? You’re staying, yes?”

“Yup. I’m here for the duration.”

As Payne took off, Beth had too much energy to sit down, the idea that she was keeping something from Wrath not sitting well. Bottom line, they needed to talk this out; it was just a question of finding a good “when” for that.

And the whole needing/kid thing wasn’t the only thing hanging over her. That confron with Wrath and the boys still stung. Men. She loved the Brotherhood—each one of them would lay down his life for her and had always put their flesh and blood where it counted with Wrath. But sometimes the all-for-one, one-for-all stuff drove her nuts—

More heaving. To the point where Beth winced and put her face in her hands.

Get ready for this, she told herself. It’s all well and good to have delusions of dollies and plush toys, cooing and cuddles, but there was a ground level to parenting—and pregnancy—that she’d better be prepared to handle.

Although at this rate, her needing didn’t seem to be in a big hurry to show up. She’d been in here every night for how long? And yeah, she was feeling hormonal—or it could be that life was just really hard right now.

Yeah, ’cuz that’s exactly when you start trying for a kid.

She must be insane.

Hitting the bed and stretching out her legs, she reached for her pint of Ben & Jerry’s and attacked it with her spoon. Stabbing into the carton, she dug out the chocolate chunks and ground them between her molars, not particularly tasting anything.

She’d never been an emotional eater before, but lately? She was chomping down when she wasn’t hungry, and it was beginning to show.

On that note, she lifted up her shirt and popped the button and the zipper on her jeans.

Sagging against the pillows, she wondered how it was possible to go from the heights of passion and connection to this morose depression so fast: At the moment, she was convinced she was never going to go into her needing, much less conceive … and that she was married to a guy who was a serious lunkhead.

Resuming her digging, she managed to excavate the mother lode of chunk veins and told herself to get a grip. Or … at the very least wait for all the chocolate to kick in and elevate her mood.

Better living through Ben & Jerry’s.

Should be the company’s tagline.

Eventually, there was the flush of a toilet followed by a course of running water. When the Chosen came out, Layla’s face was as white as the loose robing she wore—and her smile was as resplendent as the sun.

“Sorry about that!” the female said cheerfully. “How are you?”

“More important, how are—”

“I’m fantastic!” she said as she went over to the ice cream. “Oh, this is beautiful. Just what I need to ease things down there.”

“I had to weed out the straw—”

Layla threw a hand up. Brought her other one to her mouth. Shook her head.

On a choked breath, she muttered, “I can’t even hear that word.”

Beth waved things away. “Not to worry, not to worry. We don’t even have the Flavor That Shall Not Be Named in the house.”

“I’m sure that’s a lie, but I will go with it, thank you rather much.”

As the Chosen got in bed with her bowl, she glanced over. “You are so kind to me.”

Beth smiled. “After everything you’ve been through, it doesn’t feel like nearly enough.”

Almost losing the baby—then the miscarriage stopping like magic. No one really knew what had been wrong or how it had resolved itself, but—

“Beth? Is anything troubling you?”

“No, why?”

“You don’t look right.”

Beth exhaled and wondered if she could get away with lying. Probably not.

“I’m sorry.” She scraped the inside of the carton, digging out the last of the mint ice cream. “I’m all … up in my head right now.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“I’m just overwhelmed by everything.” She put the carton aside and let her head fall back. “I feel like there’s this weight hanging over me.”

“With Wrath where he is, I don’t know how you get through the nights—”

There was a knock at the door, and when Layla answered, it was not a surprise that Blay and Qhuinn came in. The two fighters looked awkward, though—and not because of the Chosen.

Beth cursed herself. “Can I just get my apology to you two over with now?”

As Blay went across and sat next to Layla, Qhuinn planted his shitkickers and shook his head. “You got nothing to sorry us about.”

“So I was the only one who thought I jumped down your throats? Come on.” And now that she’d cooled off and was properly chocolatized, she needed to apologize to her husband—as well as get him to talk. “I didn’t mean to come across like a bitch.”

“Rough times.” Qhuinn shrugged. “And I’m not interested in saints.”

“Really? You’re in love with one,” Layla chimed in.

As Qhuinn glanced over at Blay, his mismatched eyes narrowed. “Damn straight I am,” he said softly.

As the redhead turned red—natch—that connection between the two males became positively tangible.

Love was such a beautiful thing.

Beth rubbed the center of her chest, and had to redirect things before she started tearing up. “I only wanted to know what John was saying.”

Qhuinn’s face closed down. “Talk to your hubs.”

“I will.” And there was a part of her that wanted to finish up here with the Chosen and go directly to Wrath’s study. But then she thought of all those petitions he and Saxton were working on. It seemed too selfish to barge in there and interrupt the pair.

Besides, she was two inches away from crying—and not even as in telephone-commercial tears. More like what happened to her at the end of Marley & Me.

Closing her eyes, she sifted through the last two years and remembered how it had been between her and Wrath back in the beginning. Knock-your-socks-off passionate. Heart and soul connected. Nothing but the two of them even when they were in a crowd.

All that was still there, she told herself. Life, however, had a way of clouding things. Now, if she wanted to be with her man, she had to get in line and that was okay—she understood jobs and stress. The problem was, so often lately, when they were finally alone together, Wrath would get that look on his face.

The one that meant he was only with her in body. Not in mind. Maybe not in soul.

That trip to Manhattan had reminded her of the way things had been. But it was only a vacation, a break from the real nature of their lives.

Placing her hands on her rounded stomach, she wished she were loosening her clothes for the same reason Layla was.

Maybe that was another piece to this whole kid thing for her. Maybe she was looking to get back that visceral connection she’d had with him—

“Beth?”

Snapping to attention, she looked over at Layla. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What would you like to watch?” Layla asked.

Oh, wow, Blay and Qhuinn had left. “Um … I say whoever threw up last gets to pick.”

“It’s not that much of a hardship.”

“You are a real trooper, you know that?”

“Not really, no. But may I say that I wish for you the same opportunity to … how do you say, tuck it up?”

“Suck. It’s ‘suck it up.’”

“Right.” The Chosen picked up the remote and got the Time Warner cable guide up on the screen across the way. “I’m determined to get this vernacular thing correct. Let’s see … Millionaire Matchmaker?”

“I love Patti.”

“Myself as well. You know, this ice cream really hit the stop.”

“Spot. Do you want more? I can go down and—”

“No, let’s see if this stays put.” The Chosen lay her hand on her own belly. “You know, I truly do wish this for you and the King.”

Beth stared down at her body, willing it to get with the program. “Can I be honest?”

“Please.”

“What if I’m infertile.” As the words blurted out, her chest burned with a fear so deep, she was sure it was going to leave a scar.

Layla reached out a hand. “Don’t utter those words. Of course you aren’t.”

“I’m a half-breed, right? I never had normal periods when I was … you know, before I went through the change. I would go years without having one, and then what I did get just wasn’t right.” No reason to go into specifics with the Chosen, but what had presented itself as a period would be so light—not at all what other girls described. “And after my transition, all of that stopped.”

“Well, I’m not overly familiar with the way cycles work down here, but it’s my understanding that five years after the change you can expect your first needing. How long has it been?”

“Two and a half.” Annnnnd now she felt really nuts. Why should she be worried about something that shouldn’t even be on the horizon for three more years? “Before you say it, I know, I know … it would be totally early if I managed to kick-start it now. A miracle. But the rules for half-breeds are that there aren’t any, and I’m hoping…” She rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I’ll stop. The more I say all this out loud, the more I realize how insane I am.”

“On the contrary, I understand completely where you are. Don’t apologize for wanting a young or for doing whatever it is you can to have one. It’s perfectly normal—”

Beth didn’t mean to hug the Chosen. It was just … one minute she was back against the pillows; the next she was holding on to Layla.

“Thank you,” Beth choked out.

“Dearest Virgin in the Fade.” Layla held on in return. “Whate’er for?”

“I need to know someone else gets it. Sometimes I feel alone.”

Layla inhaled a great breath. “I know how that is.”

Beth backed up. “But Blay and Qhuinn are totally with you in this.”

The Chosen just shook her head, a strange expression tightening her features. “It’s not about them.”

Beth waited for the other female to fill in the blank. When she didn’t, Beth didn’t pry. But maybe … just maybe things were not quite as uncomplicated as they appeared on the outside. It was well-known that the female had been in love with Qhuinn at some point—but it had seemed as if she’d come to terms with the fact that he was destined for another.

Clearly, she was better at hiding her feelings in public than people assumed.

“Do you know why I wanted this so badly?” Layla said as they both resettled into their respective pillows.

“Tell me. Please.”

“I needed something of my own. So does Qhuinn.” She glanced over. “And that’s why I envy you. You’re doing it for a communion with your mate. That is … extraordinary.”

God, what could she say in response? “Qhuinn loves you in a special way”? That was like soothing someone’s compound fracture with an aspirin.

As the Chosen’s pale green eyes shifted back to the television screen, she appeared far older than her youth.

It was a good reminder, Beth thought to herself. Nobody had it perfect—and as much as Beth was struggling, at least she wasn’t carrying the baby of the man she loved … while he was happily with someone else.

“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you,” she heard herself say. “To love someone you can’t be with.”

Wide eyes shot back to her own—and there was an echo of something she couldn’t decipher in them.

“Qhuinn’s a good male,” Beth said. “I can understand why you care about him.”

Awkward moment. And then the Chosen cleared her throat. “Yes. Indeed. So … Patti appears displeased with this gentleman.”

Great, Beth thought. So far she’d made her brother pass out, gotten on her husband’s case … and now she was clearly upsetting Layla.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she said, hoping to make things better.

“Thank you,” the Chosen replied after a moment. “I would be ever grateful for that.”

Forcing herself into a refocus, Beth found that, yup, Patti Stanger was chewing some greasy-haired lothario a new one.

They’d probably violated her “Nothing in here, here, or here” rule. Either that or he’d jackassed out big-time on the date.

Beth tried to get into the blow up, but the vibe was off in the room, sure as if there were someone else in with them, a specter or a ghost, and not in the Doc Jane sense.

No, a weight had settled in the very air itself.

As the episode concluded, Beth checked her watch even though the TV flashed the time. “I think I’ll go see how Wrath is. Maybe it’s break time.”

“Oh, yes, and I’m tired. Mayhap I’ll sleep.”

Beth got off the bed and collected the empty bowl and carton, returning them to Fritz’s tray. Over at the door, she glanced back.

Layla was sitting against those pillows, eyes staring at the television as if she were mesmerized. But Beth didn’t buy it. The female was a chatterer when it came to viewing, prone to lively discussion about everything from what people were wearing to how they expressed themselves to whatever drama she found shocking.

In this moment, however, she was pulling a Wrath—here but not here, present and disappeared at the same time.

“Sleep well,” Beth said.

There was no response. And there would be no sleep for the female.

Beth slipped out into the hall of statues … and stalled.

In fact, she wasn’t going to go see Wrath. She didn’t trust herself at the moment. She was too up and down and back and forth emotionally—and she wasn’t entirely sure she could not bring up the baby thing with him the second they were alone.

No, before she saw him, she needed some equilibrium.

It was in her best interests.

And everybody else’s.