Wojciech Cram
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The woman on the hospital bed looked up at the nurse. Her dark eyes were glazed over from drugs and herbs, but Eliza could still feel the strength of the woman's hidden power.
There was a deep power in those ancient, green eyes. There was pain too. Eliza averted her eyes when she saw the pain. Lines had creased the woman's beautiful face which she
never should have carried at such a young age. The nurse's skin flooded with goose bumps when the drugged woman spoke, her voice harsh, reminding the middleaged witch of
the harsh cry of predatory birds.
"What'll be okay? The baby will be born? It won't be a still birth? I don't care. I don't care!" Her voice filled with a guttural growl as she collapsed back on the bed, her damp hair
clinging to her flushed cheeks. "Let the child die, just get it the hell out of me."
Dr. MacLean patted Eliza's shoulder. Eliza was still surprised to see the doctor was a vampire. Not every patient was exactly thrilled to see that their obstetrician was a member of
the bloodsucking, living dead, but Nina hadn't cared. She had taken one look at him and had nodded approvingly. Eliza wondered if maybe Nina's cool and almost pleased
expression at seeing Edward's stern face was the first sign that something was… off with the expecting woman.
Don't be too hard on her, Edward MacLean said through telepathy to Eliza. She was raped.
The witch's face flushed and she had to try hard to keep from staring at Nina. "Goddess…"
Edward MacLean took Nina's wrist to check her pulse. With a nod he let it go. "The child still hasn't turned, and you're fully ready to give birth. We can either turn it around naturally
or go in for a Csection." The man's hazel eyes remained unemotional as ice as he paused, letting Nina's mind absorb the information. "If we do it naturally, there is a small chance
that the baby will become entangled in the umbilical cord and suffocate. I won't lie to you. I've been doing this for seventy years, but I'm not perfect."
"I don't want the Caesarean," Nina declared. She held her head high with pride, despite the way her dark locks clung to her neck. She didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable with
the way her skin was shining with sweat. She seemed simply eager to get it over with.
She could still remember everything about that night nine months ago. She could still remember his voice, his smell, his aftershave, the taste of his tongue… hell, she could still
remember the brand of jeans he'd been wearing that night. The image of the button on his pants, Levi jeans imprinted on the gold metal, passing through the buttonhole of his pants
as he pulled them down was ingrained into the back of her eyelids, present every time she blinked or shut her eyes. He still haunted her in every little thing she did and he always
would.
Nina was a shape shifter. She had strength and agility which would have made the bones of the hands that tore of her clothes shatter like twigs under her grip, but that hadn't mattered. He had slipped something into her drink when she had taken her eyes off of it. She didn't know what drug it had been; she hadn't even known something was wrong until
her body stopped responding to her commands.
The man didn't even know she was a Night Worlder. He had no idea that living parallel to his bland, human world was the Nigh World: an alliance of shape shifters, werewolves,
vampires, and witches. He had no idea that they were everywhere; that the politician he'd voted for had been a werewolf or that the bartender was a vampire, or that his landlord's
apartment always smelled a little smoky because the greyhaired woman was casting spells at night.
He had no idea that there was a hierarchy in that society. He had no idea that vampires were ridiculously powerful and heavily engaged in their politics. He had no idea that the
shifters like Nina were considered animals and worthless, expendable. He had no idea that when the conclaves had been made the shifters and werewolves had been used as fodder
to build the cities by hand, or that they were treated like animals and kept out of certain Night World clubs because letting them in was akin to letting a dog into the local shopping mall: you didn't want them shitting on your floor.
No. When he'd picked her, it had nothing to do with the fact that she was a shape shifter and a part of the lower castes of the Night World. It didn't even have anything to do with
the fact that she'd been associate with Circle Daybreak, a branch of the Night World tired of the secrecy who wanted to live alongside humans peacefully, shunned from the rest of
their society because the were "hippies" and "idiots" and "suicidal fools".
He had been a human. He had been a handsome human; a goodlooking human with redgold hair with the slightest curl and blue eyes and a stubborn chin with an adorable little
cleft. He'd had a nice smile that revealed laugh lines in his cheeks. He'd been white. He'd targeted Nina because she was Native American.
He'd left her behind the bar when he was done with her. Slowly, the feeling had returned to her body. Slowly, Nina had gathered up her torn clothes and sobbed as she tried to
cover up her naked breasts and the bruises he'd left behind. She had gone right home and showered. She didn't bother going to the cops. What would they have done? She was a minority. Nina had learned long ago from history that you were only raped if you were white; if you weren't you'd been asking for it.
Worse yet, what if she got a Night World cop? If they didn't believe her because she was a Native, they definitely wouldn't believe her when they told her that a human had done it.
At first Nina had wanted to hunt him down. His stench still haunted her, fueling her aggression. She could track him down… but she never did. She was scared that she would freeze
with fear and mess up the kill. Besides, that would draw attention to her. There weren't very many cougars in downtown Victoria. It would be obvious to the Night World that a
shifter had done it. They'd come down hard on her for breaking the rules, and she'd be kicked out of Daybreak—
Oh, screw Daybreak. Nina withdrew from the organization. She didn't feel like arguing that humans and Night Worlders could live together peacefully anymore.
A few weeks later she found out she was pregnant. She denied it for the next two weeks. After her morning sickness started and her stomach slowly began expanding, she couldn't
deny it any longer. That son of a bitch had made her pregnant.
After accepting it she tried to get rid of it. She went to some of the covens to ask for help. She wanted to get rid of the child naturally. She didn't want any of the human drugs
fucking up her system even more. The witches had initially been against the abortion, but after Nina had explained the circumstances they had agreed to help.
Nothing had worked. The kid was stubborn. Laying on her back, feeling MacLean's hands inside of her as he turned the child, Nina growled and reflected on it. Her kid
Even after her water had broken and her cervix had dilated, her kid still hadn't turned. The kid just refused to leave the womb.
"You're going to have to start to push," Ed instructed.
Nina's voice was forced. She was already out of breath. "Have you given birth to shifters before?"
Edward's eyes were as cold as steel, but Nina had only ever heard the used to discuss grey eyes. His eyes were hazel, not blue or grey. She was glad they weren't blue. She hated
blue eyes now. There was another reason why Nina had gone to the witches; they tended to be female, while most doctors were still male. Edward was the first male Nina had
allowed near her since the incident behind the bar. "I have."
Her eyes held a hint of respect for him. "If the child comes out human, kill it."
Eliza gasped from shock, but MacLean understood. Shape shifters were born halfhumanoid and halfanimal. Sometimes birthing them was deadly simply due to their size. Luckily,
they were passive until they got their first breath. Edward had seen shifters born with tails or hind feet or snouts or curled, furled ears. As much as he liked ruining the image of the
coldhearted, bastardized vampire, he had to admit that they were cute critters, even when they came out covered in blood and fur or feathers.
Shape shifters were strange to the night World. They had one foot in the human world and one in the animal world. They were too social and intellectual for the animal world, but
sometimes they were too instinctual and brutal for the human world. If Nina's child was born entirely human, it was a sign that the child might never be able to change shape.
They'd be even worse off than other shifters, never fully understanding why they had the instincts and desires of an animal, feeling the pull for the forests and the hunt, and yet
incapable of assuming their true forms. They'd always feel like they had been born into the wrong bodies.
It would be easier, Edward agreed, to put the child out of its misery than let it live alienated from the rest of society.
"Push harder," Edward said. He was guiding the child out with his hands. He could feel Nina pushing. "Keep going, Nina. I can see the head."
The head emerged. Edward was disappointed when he saw a lack of fur or whiskers or feline nose. The rest of the baby fell out. It was a female. For everything Nina had reported
having done to abort the child, she seemed healthy. Ten fingers, ten toes… She was a little small, but that could have been easily genetics. Dark hair clung to her head in little
curls, and her eyes were wide and blue. Instinct kicked in and Edward slapped the baby's bottom, sending the lungs free and the baby shut her eyes, bawling. Then he stared at her,
uncertain of what to do. She was fully human.
Nina struggled to sit up and see. "Is it human?"
His voice wavered. "Yes."
"Don't kill it! Please, don't kill her!" They stared at the nurse, as if they had forgotten that Eliza was even in the room. "You don't want to raise her, right? I'll raise her."
"You don't understand, Eliza." Ed's voice was soft as he tried to be comforting and heard over the child's bawl. "This way is more humane."
"Please!"
Edward and Nina looked at each other. Finally, Nina shrugged. "I don't care what happens to it, just so long as I don't ever after to see her again. I never wanted her. It's up to you,
doctor."
With a decisive snip, Edward cut the umbilical cord. Wrapping the child in swaddling clothes, he handed the little girl to Eliza.
For a long time Eliza was happy with her decision. Nina agreed, after much pleading, to act as a wet nurse until the girl could be weaned. The girl, whom Eliza decided to name
Bethany continued to be small for her age. She acted and appeared human.
But as Bethany aged, certain nuances became stronger and more obvious. Deep down she was a cat. Eliza saw it in the way Bethany curled up to watch television, or how she had a
habit of watching the dust float by. It was the way she craned her neck to see sounds Eliza hadn't noticed, how she sat over her food to eat it, how she licked her lips, how she
craved fish… It slowly dawned on Eliza that she could not keep the truth from Bethany as she had once thought possible.
She told her when Bethany was eight. Eight, Eliza had decided, was a good age. Bethany was old enough to understand, and yet possessing a fluid enough personal identity that she
alter it to accept the circumstances of her birth.
Eliza had expecting anything: anger, tears, rage… What she had not expected was the steadfast acceptance. Bethany had smiled and had said: 'Thank you for telling me. I've known.
I've always known that I was different—and that you weren't my birth mother. All I had to do was look in the mirror.'
When Beth was ten she asked if there were others like her. She asked where she could go. Eliza had known that sending her daughter out into the world, she would be used.
Daybreak always needed more members. It would result in heavy workloads and training and subterfuge and danger, but it would mean that maybe Beth would meet people who
were like her and could help guide her through life.
"Yes," Eliza had said weakly. "There's a place. It's called Circle Daybreak."
The vampire licked his lips, watching the girl as she walked down the street. She was listening to music. She'd never hear him come up behind her. It was serendipitous that a girl
like this would show up at just the right time. His last food supply had finally expired and she was just his type: breakable.
She was young and petite. He pegged her as being maybe thirteen, possibly a year young or older. She was walking quickly. There was a stubborn tilt to her chin and pride in the
way she held her head. He thought it would be fun to make her beg.
He approached quietly and from behind. He wasn't carrying a weapon. His hands would be quick and strong enough to knock her out. All it took with these fragile humans was a
good knock to the backs of their skulls. His feet were almost soundless against the pavement. He pulled up alongside her, hands in his pockets, and he smiled kindly when he saw
her startle.
"Are you lost?" His voice was smooth and rich, chocolaty and inviting.
"No." Her eyes were hidden by glasses.
"Your schoolbags look heavy. If you'd like, I could carry it for you."
Her voice was sharp. Instinctively she lifted a hand, grabbing the sash of her backpack in case he was trying to steal it. "No, thank you."
He had enough of role playing. Grabbing her arm, his other hand clamped around her mouth to stifle her shouts of protest. He dragged her down an alleyway and shoved her
against a dumpster. She froze when she saw his mouth and the fangs framing it. He smiled, enjoying her fear.
"Do you know what happened to the last little girl I met? I took her home. Every other night I fed from her. She lasted two months until her body finally gave up. Do you think you'll
last any longer?"
She brought up her knee. His world blurred when it connected to his groin. She tried to run but vampires recovered quickly, even from such a blow. He began wrestling her to the
ground, one hand locked in her long black hair. She was screaming. He couldn't stand it when they screamed like that—whimpering was another matter entirely, but screaming was
so goddamn loud that it hurt his sensitive ears. He slapped her face—hard—to silence her, pinning her back against the dumpster. Her glasses were flung from her face. The
vampire wetted his lips and opened his mouth, then froze when he saw her eyes.
Oh, she was good! He'd been perfectly fooled by her little drama until he saw her eyes. She'd been running and screaming as if she were truly frightened, but there wasn't a drop of
fear in her eyes. Hell, she wasn't even human, as much as she looked like it from behind and reeked of it. He could see it now: the faint hints of the deadly grace that singled out
all of the Night Worlders. The secret was in her eyes; they were hazel, warm brown and leaf green mingled together with flecks of gold. Cat eyes, he thought.
"Oh, fuck me."
He heard a gun click. He had been so busy concentrating on the fight that he never heard the other vampire approach until he heard the safety go off. Something cold metal pressed
against is head. "Let her go. You're under arrest."
Beth's hands were still shaking when her coworkers pushed the vamp into the unmarked squad car and drove away. Her hands tightened around the Tim Horton's coffee mug she
held. Nicolas Rappaport sat next to her o
n the curb on the street.
"I've got a history test tomorrow on Canada and the Second World War," she told him.
He smiled. "Need help studying? I was alive at the time, you know."
Beth looked up at him. She missed Nick when he wasn't around. For a vampire, he was an okay guy. "I know you're old, Nick, but you were still only ten in 1941. You can't pull the
wool over my eyes."
He laughed. "You did good today, Beth. It's always a pleasure working with you. You always surprise me. When's your next job?"
She scowled into her tea. Between it, the warmth, and Nicolas' familiar presence she was feeling better already. The bruises the vampire had given her were stiff, but they would
be gone before school the following morning. Sometimes, she hated her job. Sometimes, she really was afraid. What kept her fear in check was the knowledge that she was only
the bait. At the same moment that she would be fighting off the suspect, Nick and his team were already on their way in to arrest him.
When she had walked into Daybreak, at once they had recognized her potential. At ten she had not the mentality to be a Daybreak agent, but she could be the bait. Bethany had
done so, and voluntarily. She wanted to catch the men who were like her birth father.
She'd always liked acting. Now, on an average of once a week, she played different people, becoming the criminal's favorite target. It gave her a feeling of pride, knowing that she
was malleable. Once a week she was a scantily clad kid dancing provocatively in a bar, and the next week she was a meek and docile schoolgirl waiting for the bus, too afraid to
put up resistance.
Because she was the bait, she worked with different groups on different cases. Nick's group was her most favorite to work with.
At fifteen, almost sixteen, Bethany was underdeveloped for her age. Slim, she lacked fat or obvious muscle. Daybreak liked her because she looked younger than she really was; it
was easier to use Bethany dressed up to make her look eleven than it was to use a real eleven year old. With her hair in pigtails and wearing Lasenza Girl clothes, people had been
known to mistake her for eleven easily.
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