The Fledgling: A Novella (Mind Sweeper Series Book 2)

by AE Jones

  “Deanna.”

  She sighed. “Deanna what?”

  “Um…”

  Her brown eyes narrowed on him as she looked above the reading glasses perched on her nose. She smirked. “You’re a friend and you don’t know her last name?”

  “No, but…”

  Her arm straightened, and her index finger pointed stiffly to the waiting room. If she had been a demon, he would have half expected flames to shoot across the room. “Sit.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, and she glared at him. “Don’t make me call security, big guy.”

  It was Misha’s turn to sigh. This nurse reminded him of his grandmother. Now there was a female who tolerated no lip from her son or her three grandsons. Of course, it didn’t hurt that she had the ability to throw heavy objects with her mind.

  Misha sat.

  The elderly woman zeroed in on him and made her move, crossing the room. Before she could reach him, Nurse Nancy hollered from her perch. “Myrtle Davis! The doctor will see you now.”

  The woman stopped and actually stuck out her bottom lip like a pouty child. But after wavering for a second or two, she sighed and went through the swinging door to the exam rooms. Too bad Jean Luc wasn’t here. He would have been amused to see Misha had an admirer. On second thought, Misha was glad he wasn’t present. He hoped Jean Luc was busy with Talia. Misha could only do so much matchmaking. Those two would have to take the final steps on their own.

  He would make it a point to stay away from the house all night. If he were a betting demon, he would place his wager on Talia to make the first move. Jean Luc was pig-headed and too noble for his own good. He needed a shakeup in the ladies department.

  Misha ran his hand over his face. Heck, he needed a shakeup in the ladies department. But that was a thought for another day. Today he had a part to play. He wasn’t Misha, a Shamat demon from Russia. He was Michael, a human from down south. Before he could throw off the role, he first must make sure Deanna was okay.

  He decided to chance a glare from Nurse Nancy, stood up, and walked over to the payphones along the wall. He punched in Jean Luc’s private number and waited patiently as the phone rang three times.

  “Hello.”

  Misha hesitated. “Talia?”

  “Yes. How’s Deanna?”

  He smiled. “She’s still being checked over by the doctors. I was calling to see how you and Jean Luc are doing and to let you know I will not be home any time soon.”

  “Okay. Take your time. We’re fine…and don’t worry, I’ll take care of Jean Luc.”

  Misha chuckled. “I’m sure you will. I’m glad to see you have taken my advice and shown some initiative. I’ll talk to you later.”

  He hung up and turned as the exam doors swung open and a young nurse pushed Deanna into the waiting room in a wheelchair. She was dressed in a hospital gown and wrapped in a blanket. Misha rushed over to her.

  Deanna’s eyes widened. “Michael, you came.”

  “Of course. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  The young nurse smiled. “She’s fine. Just a few scratches. But to be safe, we’re taking her up to OB to have them check her over as well.”

  Nancy interrupted, “You need to hurry back, Melissa. We’ve received report of a bus accident, and the victims are on their way here now.”

  “I can take her upstairs.” Misha jumped in.

  Nancy frowned. “That’s against the rules.” The outside doors swished opened, and two paramedics dashed in with a gurney. She hesitated for a second and then nodded. “Go on. They’re expecting her on floor seven.”

  Misha grasped the wheelchair handles and pushed Deanna down the hall, away from the drama unfolding behind them. When they reached the elevator bank, he punched the button and turned to face her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Thanks,” she said, softly.

  The elevator dinged, doors opened, and two nurses rushed out and jogged toward the ER.

  “They must have called in reinforcements.”

  Deanna shuddered slightly. “I’m glad we’re out of there.”

  Misha rolled her into the elevator and hit the seven button. “Me, too. When we get upstairs, is there someone you want me to call? Your family, perhaps, or the baby’s father?”

  She looked at the floor. “No. I don’t have any family and…he’s no longer around.”

  His heart broke for her. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you helping me?” she blurted, looking up at him with shimmering eyes.

  “Because I want to. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “Do you think Simon is okay?”

  “He woke up when the ambulance arrived at the gym, which is a good sign. Hopefully, his head wound is not too severe. I’ll go find out how he’s doing once I get you situated in maternity.”

  “Why do you think David tried to kill me?”

  He hesitated for a moment. Talia had said Deanna had not seen the demon fully transformed, but she had felt his claws. “I’m not sure why he attacked you. He had to have been deranged. He imagined he was a monster. But he can no longer hurt you.”

  “He thought he was a monster?” She narrowed her eyes. “Or he was a monster?”

  Misha opened his mouth to respond. The elevator lurched hard and stopped.

  Deanna clutched the arms of the wheelchair. “What happened?’

  “Don’t worry, we will be fine.” He smiled to ease the tension.

  She grimaced.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My back has been bothering me since yesterday. Maybe I pulled something.”

  Misha smiled widely again, knowing it probably bordered on the maniacal, like the Joker from Batman, but he couldn’t let her see him panic. Back pain? Dear God, she’d probably been having contractions for twenty-four hours at least. He punched the elevator buttons in a useless attempt to force the elevator to start moving again.

  Of course it would stop at a time like this. Was this not the case in every television show he had ever watched? Any time a pregnant woman appeared on a show, she inevitably went into labor. In a very inconvenient place and at a very inconvenient time. And then the main characters had to deliver the baby—without the help of a doctor, of course. He looked up at the ceiling and saw a small door. Even if he could open it with his demon strength, neither of them would fit through. His telekinesis would be of no help, either. He was strong, but he wouldn’t be able to move the entire elevator.

  This is what he got for flippantly announcing to Talia he had always wanted to watch a baby being born. The Fates could be twisted bitches when they wanted to be.

  Misha’s thumb jammed hard on the red emergency button…and no alarm sounded. An expletive exploded from his lips that was quite vivid, but since it was in his mother tongue, Deanna would not know what it meant. Or so he hoped.

  Silence reigned for a moment, until Misha turned to face her.

  Deanna’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What language was that?”

  “Russian.”

  “But I thought you were Southern?”

  Misha sighed. How was he going to explain this? He spoke normally. “I am originally from Russia. But since Americans do not trust us much, I try to hide my accent.”

  Deanna smirked. “I think your Russian accent is sexy. Is your name even Michael?”

  “Yes…well, it is Mikhail, which is the Russian name for Michael. But I go by Misha.”

  She giggled.

  “What is so funny?”

  “Misha is a goofy name for a grown man.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe so.”

  “I think I’ll call you by your real name. Mee-ki-yil, right?”

  “Very close. It is pronounced Mee-ky-ale.”

  She frowned at his correction, and then her eyes widened like she had seen a ghost. He whipped his head around. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with ghosts.

  Finding nothing alarming, he stepped toward her and knelt. “What’s wron
g?”

  “I think my water just broke.”

  * * *

  Misha held Deanna’s hand as she groaned again. The contractions were close together, and he had finally given up yelling himself hoarse earlier, trying to get someone’s attention. He could freely admit to himself now that he had lost it for a couple minutes after Deanna’s water broke.

  He was way out of his element.

  Two hundred and thirty years old, and he could face down most demons and defeat them if need be. But this? How do you calm a hysterical teen who has gone into labor in an elevator? And the only person who can help her is a stranger…a male stranger whom she just met and who had lied to her about being Southern and human?

  He wished his grandmother was here. She would handle things as she always did, with authority. Deanna moaned.

  “Little one, I think it is time for me to look and see how the baby is doing. The pains are coming very quickly now.”

  Her lips trembled. “No, my baby is not going to be born in an elevator.”

  Misha grinned. “I don’t think you have any say in the matter. Right now, the baby is in charge.”

  “Yell again for help.”

  “First, let me take a look.” When her contractions had increased in intensity, he had folded her blanket on the elevator floor and convinced her to lie down on it.

  He reached for her hospital gown, and she locked eyes with him.

  “It’s going to be fine,” he said, then ducked to look.

  He gasped.

  She flinched. “What?”

  “I can see a teeny bit of the baby’s head! You’re going to need to push very soon.”

  A tear trickled down her cheek. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “Of course you can.” His heart beat rapid-fire in his chest. “Have you thought of names yet?”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t know. There are too many names to choose from.”

  “Yes. You just need to narrow down the list.”

  “How?”

  She grimaced, and he grasped her hand during the contraction. After a moment, she took a breath.

  “Maybe you can pick the name of someone who is important to you. A meaningful name which your child can strive to emulate.”

  “You mean more than an unwed, teenage mother?”

  “I will have none of that. A mother who was willing to have a baby on her own regardless of what others thought of her? I think it is a good kind of mother to have.”

  Deanna whimpered again.

  “It is time to push now, Deanna. I can see more of the baby’s head.” He grasped both of her hands, and she gritted her teeth and pushed hard. A groan tore from the depths of her.

  “That’s it! Keep it up.”

  Had it been ten minutes or sixty? Misha didn’t know, but he did know they were both soaked with sweat. Finally, the head pushed through, and he caught the little face in the palm of his hand. “You’re doing great, Deanna. The head is out, push.”

  She clenched her teeth again, and he held his breath as the right shoulder appeared first.

  The elevator started to move.

  Now? They got it moving now? The left shoulder came out. The elevator dinged and the doors opened behind him, but he didn’t move.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nancy the nurse step into the elevator.

  “Don’t let go now, big guy.”

  He blinked back tears. “One more push, Deanna!”

  “Unhhhhhhh.”

  The rest of the baby slipped out, and he flipped her over. A perfect little face and body, complete with arms and legs and fingers and toes. “You did it! It’s a girl.”

  Hands reached out, and he handed her to another nurse who cleared the baby’s nose and mouth.

  Deanna flopped back, exhausted. “Is she okay?”

  After a few seconds, cries bounced around the elevator and cheers rang out in the hallway behind them.

  Nancy patted him on the shoulder. “Okay, hero, move back and give us some room.”

  * * *

  Misha sat in the seventh floor waiting room. The nurses had found him a pair of scrubs, which apparently had not been easy because of his size. He rested his head against the wall and took a deep breath. A couple minutes later, a hand rested lightly on his arm.

  “Hey, big guy.”

  He opened his eyes to see Nurse Nancy smiling at him.

  “Is she okay?”

  “They’re fine. They both just got settled in the room. Let me take you to see them.”

  Misha groaned as he stood. “Do you have a twin? I thought you worked in the ER?”

  She smirked. “I do. I’m actually off duty now. When I heard the elevator was stuck and you two had never made it to OB, I had a bad feeling. Couldn’t bring myself to leave until they got you out of there. Do I dare ask why your accent has changed from Southern to Russian?”

  “Not really. It’s a long story.”

  “Well, I like the Russian accent better. The Southern one was a bit too Gone With the Wind for me.”

  They ambled down the hall, and she bumped her shoulder against him. “You did a good job today.”

  Nancy left him at the door to Deanna’s room, and Misha stood for a moment in silence, mesmerized by the young mother lying in bed with the baby in her arms.

  He cleared his throat. “You two make one of the prettiest pictures I have ever seen.”

  Deanna smiled. “She is gorgeous, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  Misha shrugged. “You and the baby did all the work.”

  “That isn’t true and you know it. Do you want to hold her?”

  He rubbed his palms against his scrubs and walked up to the bed. “Yes.” He reached down and, ever so carefully, picked her up. He studied the light fuzz on her head and the button nose on her perfect face. Her eyes stayed closed, but one of her hands poked out from under the blanket, and he blinked at the teeny fingers as they flexed slightly.

  With a lump in his throat, he said, “Hello, little one, welcome to the world.”

  * * *

  Misha lugged the three-foot teddy bear through the sliding doors of the ER. He had decided to stop there before going upstairs to see Deanna and the baby. He smiled when he recognized Nurse Nancy behind the desk, but she frowned in return.

  His stomach twisted. “Has something happened?”

  “No, nothing bad happened…Deanna already left with the baby.”

  Misha’s chest constricted. “What? But I told her I would pick her up and take her home today.”

  Nancy reached up and patted his arm. “I know. But Deanna felt like she needed to do this on her own. She asked me to tell you thanks again for everything.”

  Misha nodded and took a deep breath. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

  “I think you gave her a wonderful chance at a new start. If you hadn’t been with her in the elevator, the outcome could have been very different. As a nurse, I had to learn a long time ago that I can only help my patients with medical problems. What they do once they leave here is up to them. It’s hard, but you have to let them go.”

  In his head, he knew she was right, but someone needed to tell his heart to stop protesting so much. He held up the large bear. “So what should I do with him?”

  “I’ll take it up to the children’s ward. They’ll get a kick out of it. Better yet, it’s time for my break. Why don’t you come up there with me and give it to them yourself? The kids will love you. They’ll think you’re a giant and hang off of you like monkeys.”

  Misha turned the bear around and looked him in the eye. “I think we’d both enjoy that very much.”

  Nancy chuckled. “I thought you might.”

  Thanks!

  I hope you enjoyed the second book in my Mind Sweeper Series. My third book is a novel that will once again center on Kyle, my heroine from book one. You can find my other books listed below.

  If you would
like to know when my books will be released, please join my new releases email list at www.aejonesauthor.com or follow me on Twitter @aejonesauthor or Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/aejones.author1

  And if you are so inclined, please review this book as well.

  Mind Sweeper Series

  Mind Sweeper – Book 1

  The Fledgling – Book 2 (A Mind Sweeper Novella)

  Shifter Wars – Book 3 (Coming Late Fall 2014)

  Books 4 & 5 – Coming 2015

  If you haven’t read my first novel, Mind Sweeper, please turn the page for an excerpt.

  Excerpt from

  Mind Sweeper

  AE Jones

  Chapter 1

  An angel, a demon, and a vampire walked into a bar. No seriously, they did. And all hell broke loose. Then I got called in, or rather the team got called in, to handle supernatural damage control. My job was to manipulate people’s memories. Don’t ask me how. I was born with it, and like someone born with double joints or the ability to flip their eyelids inside out, I just do it and hopefully not freak out too many people in the process.

  On this particular night, I was destined to spend the evening in a bar with no chance of getting lucky. Dead bodies tended to put a damper on romance.

  Not that I was dressed to attract men—my jeans, graphic tee, and black work boots didn’t exactly fit in with the skimpy dresses and three-inch heels worn by the other women in the bar. But then I had missed the class about fitting in, so this was nothing new.

  I held open the door, and the muggy Cleveland night invaded the air-conditioned bar, steaming up the door window. Pasting on a flight-attendant smile, I barely restrained myself from muttering “buh-bye” as the witnesses filed out calmly. Calmly, because I had spent the past twenty minutes implanting them with new memories.

  Instead of a demon and a vamp facing off, their recollections featured a brawl between a biker and a drunken fraternity boy. Crisis averted. Now the rest of the team could get to work.