by Michele Hauf
Air gushed from her lungs. Her stomach revolted, shifting miserably. She felt a sharp tug at the base of her spine. A kind of not right pain.
As the vampire turned with a fist prepared to slam into her gut, he suddenly paused, staring at her huge belly.
“You’re pregnant!”
That was the distraction she required. Slamming her fist against his chest, she did not pause to compress the stake paddles. The weapon entered flesh, bone and muscle. The vampire yowled, then dusted before her, hanging there in a distorted shape of his body for seconds, before dropping to the tarmac at her boots.
“And you’re dead.”
The sharp pain in her spine attacked again. Dropping the stake, Lark winced and doubled over the pile of vampire ash. She eased a palm around her eight-months-pregnant belly. Something was going on in there.
“Not due for another three weeks,” she gasped.
Clutching for the wall, she was shocked to feel what she suspected was a labor pain, a tight, clenching squeeze in her uterus worse than any PMS cramps she’d ever experienced.
Three weeks after telling Rook she didn’t wish to leave the Order, she’d learned she was pregnant. That first time with Domingos had been the kicker. Thing was? Domingos had been standing right there with her, watching the pink line appear on the stick. They’d both cheered to see it, and then had hugged each other in joy.
No doubts. No regrets. This baby was a miracle they were ready to welcome with open arms.
She wasn’t sure she could make it home if the pain persisted, and home was three quarters away. She’d have to call Domingos, and he was going to be angry she’d gone out on a job. She’d promised him to take it easy the last trimester, but this particular vampire had burned her ire. And Rook had trusted she had the skill to complete the job, despite her rounded girth.
“And I did it,” she managed between wincing breaths.
Practicing the breathing technique she’d learned in Lamaze class, she closed her eyes, yet kept her ears honed for approaching footsteps. According to intel, the vampire had acted alone, but she would never let down her guard.
“Oh!” A fierce shock of pain squeezed her innards. And suddenly her water broke, gushing down the inside of her Kevlar-lined pants. “Hell, it’s time.”
She fumbled for the cell phone in her pocket and dialed up home. Domingos answered immediately, as he’d taken to carrying the cell phone she’d bought him in his pocket the past few weeks. He had suspected the baby would come early because she was so round. Weird vampire instincts? Who could know?
“Lover,” she said on a gasp. “Can you come get me?”
“Where are you, Lark? Is it the baby?”
She nodded, and knew he couldn’t hear her nod, but another labor pain forced her to concentrate and focus on what was going on inside her body.
“It’s the baby,” he said, guessing. “I’ve got you on GPS. What the hell are you doing in the seventh?”
“Just come get me, please.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
* * *
The ride to the hospital was a little tense—Domingos hadn’t been able to hide his anger that she’d gone out on a job—but more so, fraught with anticipation. By the time they pulled before the emergency doors, Lark already felt the urge to push. Domingos paid a nurse to park the car for him because he didn’t want to leave Lark alone, and she was thankful for that as they wheeled her toward an O.R., her lover’s hand firmly clasped in hers.
Twenty minutes later, Lark admired Domingos, who stood near the window in the quiet birthing room, moonlight spilling over his face, as he looked over the scrunched little face of their newborn boy. Tears spilled down Lark’s cheeks, and she attributed them to hormones, but knew they were from pride and love for the new little man in her life, and the steadfast vampire who would be in her life forever.
She’d done it. She’d carried their child to term. It was such a relief after having lost one child. The second semester had been fraught with fear of losing the baby, and she hadn’t taken more than two slaying jobs then. The relief was immeasurable. But more so? She had given Domingos a family.
A family they both desired.
“He looks like you,” she whispered, not so much exhausted from labor and maybe even exhilarated. “That thick dark hair is precious.”
Domingos swept his palm over their baby’s black hair, which stuck up a good half inch all over his head. “Why are you so good to me, Lark?” he asked plainly.
“What do you mean?”
“Look what you’ve given me. A tiny creature that we made together. He’s so perfect.” The vampire sniffed back a tear. “I never thought myself capable of creating something like this. This. This goes beyond music. So innocent.” He swallowed, his smile slipping. “I don’t want him to grow up with a crazy daddy.”
“He won’t.” They’d been looking into using faery dust to cure Domingos’s madness, and it seemed a possibility. But they’d wanted to wait until after Lark gave birth because it required some intensive sessions that would push Domingos toward addiction if not carefully monitored. “We’ll make you better.”
“This sweet little boy already makes me better. I wish he didn’t have to face such an unsure future.”
A child born of a mortal and vampire may or may not become vampire. They wouldn’t know until the blood hunger appeared at puberty. They were prepared for either outcome, but who could ever be ready for such a thing?
“Stay here in the now,” she said, patting the bed beside her. “Come sit, lover. Let me see what we’ve made.”
He sat beside her and gently lowered the baby into her arms. He was so tender with the infant, Lark felt he was handling parent duties better than she. She’d never held babies much and didn’t want to drop the little tyke.
“What’s his name?” she asked. They’d not discussed names, mainly because of her fears of losing the baby. “I want you to name your son.”
Domingos cupped a hand over their child’s head and kissed his tiny nose. “Kindred was my father’s name.”
“I love that.”
“I love you.” He kissed her and then turned to lie beside her on the bed, and together they cradled Kindred LaRoque. “Let’s get married.”
They had tossed the idea around during the past few months, but neither wanted to do it because it was the thing to do just because they were bringing a child into the world. And getting married because she was pregnant had echoed of Lark’s past marriage. She felt as though she would love and live with Domingos forever, and he felt the same. So a contract written on paper had seemed unnecessary.
But linking her fingers with Domingos’s now, Lark went with what her heart wanted and said, “Yes. I will be your wife.”
“And lover.” He kissed her.
“And friend.”
He kissed her again. “And my soul. You and I and Kindred, one happy family composed of vampire, hunter and who knows what the future will bring our son?”
“I only hope that he is happy, no matter what he becomes. When we go home tonight, will you play him a song?”
“Only if you accompany me.”
“We’ll give him our love for music.”
“It’s already in his soul,” he said, and he kissed Kindred’s forehead, then nuzzled against Lark’s shoulder.
“Love you,” she whispered.
“Love you back.”
* * * * *
If you’re interested in reading Hart and Danni’s story, look for CLAIMING THE WOLF at your favorite online retailer.
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ISBN: 9781460315774
Copyright © 2013 by Michele Hauf
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