When news of Stella’s death – reportedly in a drunken car accident – had arrived, Rebecca had been flooded with a guilty sense of relief. The threat was past. Even with Xander at her side, her instincts told her the woman was deadly.
“She was a doomed soul,” Xander had said simply. “Who knows what her journey in this realm was intended for – but she’s no longer our problem.”
At the same time, Becky was afraid that they’d have to abandon their little island of togetherness, and she’d have to go back to her regular world. Her fears were short-lived. Bolstered by the success of her off-site transition, Jeff had convinced the company to encourage more workers to try the same thing. He’d stayed in touch with her regularly since her move, gradually moving her into more long-term projects that required fewer intense deadlines. It was a relief to take the pressure off, particularly since her growing child was taking more of her energy than she expected.
“You can stay at Bunny’s cottage as long as you need,” Rosie had said during one of her regular visits. She’d helped Becky find new tenants for her little apartment and move her belongings into storage. There’d been a pang of regret as she let go of the place and the memories attached. But her world was filled with much bigger matters now.
Rosie’s eyes dropped to Becky’s swelling belly. Neither woman could believe how quickly she’d grown. It was only six months since the night she’d found out, yet she looked ready to pop at any moment.
“Any more word from…the father,” she asked. Despite Becky’s constant explanations about Xander, Rosie remained steadfastly skeptical of the idea. Xander responded by studiously avoiding the bristling little woman.
“Xander is with me all the time, Rosie,” Becky sighed as she tried, yet again, to convince the woman that he was a real part of her world. Rosie remained adamant that he was a cheating husband who’d abandoned his wife for Becky. While she’d never been particularly virtuous herself, she had strong opinions about the sanctity of marriage vows.
Becky rubbed her forehead. She’d spent endless hours wondering how she’d explain her situation to those who knew her. As it was, she’d eventually blocked the calls of the persistent Dr von Ludwig, who was anxious to speak in more detail about her supernatural encounters. She didn’t want the world to see her as some nutjob – that crazy lady who got knocked up and believed it was her demon lover.
Although Xander was now as real to her as anyone else in her world, she still couldn’t figure out how to explain his presence. He would vanish when Rosie popped around for their visits, and never materialized on any of her regular trips to the nearby village for provisions. Yet she could feel him near, always. It was comforting yet disconcerting. How would he ever integrate into her world? Was it even possible?
She sensed he was as fearful of this as she was, but while they lived in their safe little nest, these were questions that didn’t need answering. They spent hours rambling through the nearby fields, hand-in-hand, like a regular couple. Or talking on the porch about their very very different lives. She couldn’t comprehend his stories, they were unbelievable. However, she could understand how his life experiences might mold him into the lover he’d become. Intense. So focused on her. He’d watch her intently, whether she was talking, working, sleeping… She’d wake up and find him gazing at her, eyes roving over her body as if the strength of his stare was holding her in an embrace.
“I’ll never let anything happen to you, Rebecca,” he told her, so often, it almost felt trite at times. He repeated it now, and she smiled and nestled back into his warmth.
***
“This can’t go on forever,” a voice spoke softly in Purgatory, where two dark spirits observed from above. “He doesn’t get off this easily.”
“I know,” a second voice replied. “He’s come a long way – too long. It’s a pity our plans with the woman…Stella…didn’t work out.”
“It was a good idea, but we couldn’t know that the Council would find her before she achieved our goal,” the first voice acknowledged. It was female…sinuous and slithering.
“We’re lucky they never traced her back to us,” the second voice said, deepening. A man.
She snorted. “Enough of them! I’m growing impatient…as is the Dark Lord. There are too many finding their way up to The Other.”
“I know,” sighed the other voice. “I just hadn’t expected so many of them to try so hard.”
“We will be stuck here forever if we don’t continue our alliance with him,” his companion muttered. “You know we’ve done the right thing. I’m sick of this place! Sick of the endless talking in circles with those…fools!” She snorted again. “He’ll let us out if we send him souls. We can be free again. Without having to meet the impossible requirements of The One above.”
“Yes, yes, I know all of this. I am impatient, too!” he admitted.
“Just think of it! We would rule at his side…powerful…invincible…Forever!” There was an edge of madness to her voice, but it didn’t bother him. It was what had drawn them together.
“The Spartan has been here an eternity. But his time is coming to an end. He’s not going to survive in this world for long – he lives off energy, and he’s barely getting enough from her to sustain his existence. He’s with her constantly, never up here where he can rest. Each time she feels a twinge, he absorbs it. He’s fading. She’ll sense it soon – it will kill her to know that their love is doing that to him. His soul is doomed in any event.”
“It’s not happening fast enough,” she grumbled. “We need to speed things up.”
“What do you propose? We’ve pushed the limits of what we can do – we’re already drawing attention to ourselves…and then what? What if the Council figures out what we’re up to?” he snapped back, irritably. The woman’s insistence was biting at him, even though he knew she was right. The Spartan might find a way to redeem himself. Could they take the chance on that happening? They’d invested so much time in this one. Salazar had too. If he could be shown to have made a poor decision, Lucifer would undoubtedly pay more attention to his two allies then. They could show him they were worthy of ruling with him.
He narrowed his eyes, reached out…
Below, the eerie shadow of a long, sharp fingertip traced over the taut belly of the sleeping.
“It is done,” he said. The dark figure at his side hissed in satisfaction.
Chapter Twenty-One
Her low moan caught his attention. He’d been aware of a change in her slumber…noticed that her peacefulness was disturbed by the occasional erratic movement. It had set his nerves on edge, so when that moan shuddered out, he was immediately on guard.
Something was wrong.
If he’d had breath, he would have held it, suspended in silent observation.
She moaned again, this time easing her knees up and curling them towards her stomach. Air hissed between her lips as she exhaled, her forearms tightening around the swell of her belly in a gesture of protection.
The baby!
His senses went on high alert, sinking into her subconscious to feel each tiny change in breathing, temperature, heartbeat…the heartbeat of their child.
She’s coming.
He knew it as clearly as if the message had been sent directly to his brain. Their daughter was on her way…and somehow, they weren’t prepared. Before Becky’s next moan had had a chance to settle in the air, he’d scooped her into his arms and was hurtling for the door. From there, instinct took over. That, and the collective wisdom of billions of souls set loose on the earth around him.
Rebecca looked up, stared into his face, at first unthinking as the fog of sleep evaporated, and consciousness took hold. Then she clung to him, somehow knowing he’d know what to do.
Another moan emerged, this one a little more urgent, her fingers digging into her chest.
“Xander—!”
“I know, Precious…I know. It’s ok…it’s going to be ok,” he soothed, brain feveris
hly latching onto some cosmic thread that told him where they needed to be. Her eyes fixed onto his face as if knowing that she’d be safe as long as he was in reach. She was right. He’d spent so many months absorbing every hint of danger in her path, every twitch of discomfort she may have experienced. If it hadn’t been for the mind-blowing pleasure of their frequent couplings, he wouldn’t have made it through. Her satisfaction had fed him, and he’d used that nourishment to strengthen his ability to defend her. He sucked in her fear now and let it dissipate into the air around them, noted how her eyelids drooped softly. And then shot open again as something took hold, similar to the last moment of anxiety.
“Xander!” she gasped, doubling up against him. “I think…I think it’s the baby! I… Oh, god—” She clenched her teeth and groaned. “The baby’s coming!” Her teeth clattered back together as she unclenched her jaw to release the words. She’d been rigid, as if her body was resisting the gut-wrenching spasms that threatened to overwhelm her. He felt warmth release, gush down his body where he cradled her. An iron tang met his nostrils, the heat of it mirroring the lava flowing through their collective veins.
Blood.
She felt it too and arced her body away from the sensation, as if tightening her limbs would slow the course. More panic. So much fear – the type of fear that didn’t fit into ordinary conversation about menial anxieties. This was primal. Guttural. He felt it in his own innards, twisting… as if their child was kicking and squirming for survival inside himself.
No!
He refused to allow the terror. Focused on drawing her pain away; settled her panic, and replaced it with a limitless sense of calm. Even while his own anxiety was roiling in his belly.
Do something do something do something…
He sucked in every message, every memory, every hint from the Universe around him about what he needed to do to get his family – such as it was – to safety.
And he hurtled towards the nearest place of healing.
***
“Get out of my way!” Xander roared, shoving bystanders aside. “She needs help!” Becky whimpered in his arms, another wave of pain wracking her body. She clung to him. “Dammit!” he roared again. “Is there someone here who can help?” He scanned the room feverishly, eyes settling on a blue-clad woman. She looked up abruptly from her position beside a gurney. He strode over towards her, barely registering Becky’s weight in his arms. Barely noticing that this human was looking him in the eye.
“We need your help!”
“Yes, sir, it’s ok – I’m a trauma sister,” the woman’s voice was soothing. Her almond eyes were warm, calm, clearly accustomed to handling emergencies. A name tag clipped to the lapel of her uniform bore the name Martha Watermann. “Tell me what’s happened.” She put a hand on his arm. He stared down at it for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, then looked back up at her.
“It’s my child…our baby…it’s too early…she’s coming too soon. You have to do something! Save them.” His voice broke as he felt Becky’s body stiffen and then arch in pain. He tightened his arms around her, focused for a moment on drawing the sensation from her, felt her settle before he looked back up at the nurse. “Please.”
The woman nodded curtly, turning quickly to an orderly coming through an entrance. “We need a gurney, now!” she instructed. “And page Dr. Goodson, tell him we have a preemie with mother in distress.” She turned back to him, squeezing his shoulder as the orderly moved to lift Becky to the gurney, and Xander’s arms had instinctively tightened around her again.
“Dr. Goodson is our obstetrician on duty. He has extensive experience in emergency deliveries. Your wife will be in good hands…let us take it from here.” He nodded wordlessly, not bothering to correct her. “How far along is the pregnancy?” Sister Watermann asked, reaching for Becky’s wrist, monitoring her pulse. Xander shook his head, realizing he didn’t have an accurate answer. Becky stirred, raising her head.
“Twenty-eight weeks,” she murmured hoarsely. The sister took a breath, mouth set in a grim line, then glanced down at Becky’s heavily distended belly and frowned.
“You’re sure?” she asked. Becky nodded. “Who is your doctor?” the nurse continued.
“Dr. Tannenberg. She’s a specialist at—” She groaned and bit back a fresh wave of contractions.
“It’s ok, honey,” the nurse soothed. “I know her, good doctor. We’ll contact her immediately.” Xander brushed stray curls from Becky’s face where they clung to her damp skin.
“I’m here,” he murmured, brushing his lips over her forehead, inhaling deeply. “I’m right here.” She sighed, feeling the pain receding. His hands grasped the rail of the gurney between them, his knuckles white. As she calmed, he sucked in a breath, holding down the waves of agony he’d just drawn from her. The light in the room seemed to dim.
“… name, sir?” the sister was speaking to him. He’d barely noticed her voice, glanced up blankly. “What is your wife’s name, sir?” the woman repeated.
“Rebecca …” He blinked, trailed off as she looked at him expectantly. “Rebecca,” he repeated and stopped again.
“Rebecca North,” Becky took over, squeezing his hand.
“Mr. North, we’re going to need to get your wife to a ward,” the nurse explained. “You’ll have to get to admissions to give us your details. I’m assuming you have health care?” He stared at her speechlessly, at a complete loss. Never in all his thousands of years of existence had he been faced with a situation like this. He felt utterly powerless.
“Yes, sister.” Becky’s voice was suddenly clear, in control. “Xander, I want you to call Rosie.” She thrust her mobile phone into his hands. “It’s ok, she’ll know what to do.” He looked down at the device, bemused. Not much need for communication technology in the afterlife – he had no idea how to use it. Without words, she understood, quickly running her fingers over the screen – entering the passcode, hitting Rosie’s number on speed dial. The instrument buzzed, and a voice suddenly emerged from it.
“Becky? Are you ok? I’ve been trying to reach you all morning!” Rosie demanded.
“Rosie, I need to you listen to me careful—” Becky stopped abruptly, jaw clenching. “Uhnnn …” Xander stepped closer, shielding her, absorbing the waves. Becky exhaled, continued. “Rosie, I don’t have time to explain now, so I need you to just do as I ask. Come down to Mercy General, you will meet Xander in the foyer.”
The voice on the line squawked a protest. “Who? How will I—”
“Roseanne, I promise, you will know exactly who I am talking about,” Becky interrupted, her voice suddenly firm and clear. “You have my information – help him get through admissions. They’re taking me to a ward now.” The strength of her voice brooked no argument.
“I’m on my way,” Rosie answered, cutting off the call. Becky fell back against the mattress, exhausted by the exertion.
“Xander, I need you to wait for her when they take me, she’ll help you.” Her voice sounded so frail. He clenched his jaw.
“I can’t leave you!” he objected, panic coloring his voice. She turned to face him, eyes meeting his, he melted into them.
“It’s fine,” she smiled, stroking his cheek, “these people know what they’re doing. They’ll take care of us…me…and her.” She stroked her heaving belly, then lifted, with difficulty, to press her lips against his. He shut his eyes, nodded, fought back the darkness that shimmered around the edges of his vision.
This sight of her gurney being wheeled out of sight down the hospital corridor was one of the hardest he’d ever had to endure. Every instinct in him urged him to race after them, more so when he heard her muffled cry of pain. The energy within him was her barrier between life and death – but he also realized that there were aspects of this world she needed in order to survive. And right now, one of them was handling the administration of getting her checked in for medical care. He paced through to the reception area, anxiety surging within him as he
sought out the woman Rebecca had called to assist.
It didn’t take long before he spotted Roseanne. The small, dark-haired woman was literally sparking with anxious energy. She scanned the room, seeking him out and spotted him almost as quickly as he’d seen her, making a beeline towards him. Even towering over her, he felt dwarfed by the force of her fury.
“You! You… You bastard!” she hissed through clenched teeth. He remained silent, although several people in the waiting area turned to see what was going on. “What the fuck did you do to her?? Who the hell are you? You’ve turned her life upside down!” she continued. Xander remained silent. There simply were no words he could offer in explanation. She heaved a deep breath, preparing to launch into a tirade when a nurse arrived at their side, discretely clearing her throat to get their attention.
“Excuse me, Mr. North?” the woman began, ignoring the spluttered sound of outrage Rosie produced when she heard the name. “Mr. North, we’ll need your wife’s details for admissions?” Her voice was tentative. Xander nodded, then turned to Roseanne.
“Rebecca needs you to help me,” he said, facing the enraged woman. “Will you help me?” She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, then nodded curtly, turning to the nurse.
“Where do we go?” she asked, falling in step with the nurse as she led to the nearby admissions desk. A clerk slid a sheaf of papers across the counter and handed Rosie a pen. Xander hovered at her side, barely concealing his growing anxiety. She glanced up at him, eyes still narrowed, before skimming through the questions typed on the pages. “You still haven’t told me who you are,” she muttered, ignoring the curious glance the clerk aimed at them.
“I am…” Xander paused, not sure how much time he had to explain their situation, opted for brevity. There would be time for explanations later…if he was able to do what was necessary. “I am… Xander,” he said simply. Rosie opened her mouth, probably to object, and then thought better of it. She gave a brief nod, followed by a pointed stare that literally shouted, ‘We will be discussing this in detail later.’
Saved By Her (Soul Searchers Book 1) Page 18
