by Rye Brewer
“Does that mean it’s time to start pushing?” I asked, completely at a loss.
“I don’t know.” She looked at Sirene, who managed to nod.
“I feel… as though I should push…” she gasped.
Her voice was weak. Too weak. I tried not to look at the small-but-growing stack of bloody towels which Anissa had discarded in favor of fresh ones. Even to my untrained eye, it seemed as though we were going through a lot of them.
“All right.” Anissa looked up at me from her position at Sirene’s thighs. She had a towel draped over the witch’s knees and a light positioned at her elbow so she could see.
Even in the middle of what was likely the deepest fear I had ever felt—the idea of Sirene dying in front of us, with nothing to do about it—I couldn’t help but admire the way Anissa took charge.
Just when I thought there was nothing new to learn about her, that I had seen every side of her, she managed to surprise me.
The assassin midwife.
“How should we do this?” she asked Sirene, who seemed to be fading even further by the minute.
The smell of her blood filled my nostrils, overtaking my senses in a way I was hardly proud of. It couldn’t be helped, but I could control it. I stepped closer to the bed, hoping to help in some way now that it seemed as though things were coming to a head.
“I need to sit up…” Her sweaty head rolled from side to side as she tried to speak. “Think of… a crouch… but lying down…”
“Of course.” Anissa pointed to me, then to Sirene. “Sit behind her. Prop her up until she’s upright.” Meanwhile, she lifted Sirene’s feet and placed them against her own shoulders. “Brace yourself against me, all right? Just press as hard as you have to.”
“Don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered with a ghost of a smile.
“You’d be surprised how strong I am,” Anissa smiled back.
I slid an arm around Sirene’s shoulders, as she didn’t make a move to sit up on her own. I was afraid she no longer had the strength to do even that much. Her robes were soaked with sweat, as were the sheets beneath her. I sat gingerly, allowing her to lean against me. She felt so light, so easily broken.
I felt that I should say something, at any rate, and that it should be reassuring.
“You can do this,” I murmured, at a loss for anything else to say.
“I feel…” Her head fell back on my shoulder, her half-closed eyes focused on me. “I feel like I’m dying.”
“I’m sure all women feel that way when they’re at this stage,” Anissa attempted to joke, though the edge in her voice spoke of the dire situation. She removed yet another bloody towel and replaced it with a fresh one.
How much blood could a person lose without…
Sirene tensed, her breathing coming fast and sharp.
“All right. Here we go…” Anissa shouted, pushing back against the feet on her shoulders.
It felt natural to push Sirene forward, to help her bear down. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but take note of how surreal the situation was. My baby sibling was on its way into the world as I fumbled my way through trying to help.
Sirene gasped once she was finished pushing, falling against me again. “Let her rest for a minute,” Anissa muttered.
“What’s happening?”
“I can barely see the head,” she fretted, glancing at Sirene. A frown created deep furrows in her brow. “It’s not coming fast enough. Is there any way we can help you?”
Sirene didn’t answer. I was afraid she had lost consciousness—or worse.
“Sirene.” My voice was loud, sharp, my mouth close to her ear. “We need you to stay with us.” I placed a hand on her neck and felt her pulse—weak, but there.
She stirred. “I can’t… I can’t do it…”
“You will,” I ordered. “Your baby needs you to do this. You can’t give up now. I won’t let you.”
“Please… I have to sleep…”
It was unthinkable, seeing her this way. She had always been the one with the answers, the unflappable one. I found myself regretting ever bad thought I’d had about her. “Sirene, you have to tell us how to help you. There’s got to be something we can do.”
It took a moment for her to rouse, and even then, it was only because another contraction was on its way.
I had noticed already how her midsection would seem to tighten whenever one came on, as though her body was trying to push the baby out. I supposed it was.
“Push on me,” she managed to groan before she could no longer speak thanks to the animal cry which tore through the room.
I never would’ve thought a tiny thing like her could make a sound like that.
I exchanged a glance with Anissa, who shrugged. There was nothing else to do. I pushed her forward, wrapping my arms around her to press against the top of her swollen belly. It would’ve been funny if the situation hadn’t been so dire—me, trying to push a baby out of a woman.
But it was working. “I see the head! It’s coming!” Anissa looked up at Sirene. “Hang on. Just a little while longer.”
Sirene gasped for air between contractions, grunting as another came on top of the last.
I pushed harder than ever, afraid for a moment that I would hurt her but guessing I couldn’t do worse than had already been done to her.
Our priority was to get the baby out, and fast. Before we lost both of them. It didn’t have to be spoken aloud for all of us to know it.
“Keep going, keep going… almost there…” Anissa’s voice went up an octave in excitement. “The head’s almost out! You’re doing it, Sirene! You’re doing it!”
“Come on!” I barked. “You got this!”
I looked down at her, at the sweaty head lolling on my shoulder as she tried valiantly to do it, and something told me I might never get another chance. “I’m sorry for everything. I should’ve been better. I should’ve done better. It shouldn’t have taken me something like this to know how stupid I was. You make my father happy—as happy as he can be. I’m glad he’s had you in his life. We’re all lucky to have you.”
“Take care of the baby… please…”
“No! No, you’re going to! You will!” I nearly yelled with the effort of pushing for her—and the effort of holding myself together as she died in my arms.
She was dying. There would be no saving her after this. Her ribs were cracking under my hands, but I couldn’t stop pushing because the baby would suffocate if we didn’t get it out and we’d lose them both and oh, how would I ever face Fane after that? Or Anissa?
Or myself?
Sirene screamed once more, louder and stronger than I thought she had the strength to do.
Anissa let out a yelp. “It’s here! It’s here! Stop pushing!”
I fell back, Sirene coming with me. She was limp, but breathing.
“You did it.” I put an arm across her chest to hold her against me. Or just to hold her. The closest thing to a hug I could manage. If anyone deserved it, she did.
“Thank you. Thank you.” She opened her eyes, just a crack, but she managed to look at me. “Thank you, Jonah. Your father would… He is always proud of you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that—my throat closed up to the point where I couldn’t speak, anyway. I watched as Anissa cleaned the baby as best she could.
“What is it?” Sirene asked.
“A girl,” Anissa beamed.
“Is she…?”
“She’s wonderful. Just wonderful.”
Our eyes met for one brief, silent moment as Anissa worked on the baby and I held onto the mother. Would we ever have this moment ourselves? Would there ever come a time when we could enjoy something as normal as this together?
As normal and spectacular.
My heart went out to my father, knowing he wasn’t here to see his child. To congratulate Sirene for a job well done. To whisper words of love to her—yes, love. I could accept the love between them.
Th
ey both deserved to have that together.
“You did well,” I murmured close to her ear. “He would be proud of you, too.”
9
Anissa
I didn’t bother to hold back my tears as I swaddled the baby and placed it on Sirene’s chest. A girl. A baby girl.
She was perfect. Beautiful. Her hair, wet and matted, would be red once washed and dried. Just like Philippa’s.
She didn’t cry, but instead looked around with wide, wise eyes. Like she knew what was happening on some deeper level, beyond us. I wondered if all babies understood better than we thought they did, especially when newborn.
But that could’ve been the exhaustion, not to mention the mental strain I’d just been through.
Which was nothing compared to what Sirene had just suffered, of course. Her face was as white as the sheets on which she rested.
“Your baby,” I whispered, stroking Sirene’s hair. “You made it. I knew you would.”
“Thanks to you.” Her lips moved, but I barely heard her.
She was still slipping away. I looked down to find fresh blood on the towels under her—granted, it wasn’t flowing heavily, but it was still coming out. How much more could she possibly lose without…?
I looked at Jonah, who noticed what I had. His eyes darkened when they met mine.
“Anissa…” I noticed just in time that Sirene was beginning to fade even further, to the point where her arms loosened, and the baby started to slip.
I caught her and handed her off to Jonah, who accepted the little bundle with great care and reverence.
“Stay with us. Stay with us, please. Hang on.”
“Take care of the baby…”
“No, no. Please.”
She shook her head, eyes barely open. “Hurts.”
“I know, but you can get through it.” I looked up at Jonah, holding the baby close to his chest. “We have to do something.”
“I know. I only wish I knew what.”
As did I.
Fane ran through my mind, the way he was looking for a caster in Duskwood. What would happen after that? Would he come back to the high-rise, looking for Sirene?
Maybe not. I wasn’t sure he wanted her to know about his change. But what if he found out she’d had the baby? He’d come back then.
And Jonah would find out about the change, too. And he would know I knew…
I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away. They weren’t important right now. The dying woman in front of me was what mattered.
Turning back to her, I leaned closer so she could hear me and I could hear her. “Is there anything I can get you for the pain? Anything that might help you regain your strength?” I didn’t know what witches needed or ate, but assumed it was the same as humans.
She opened her mouth to speak, but only a tiny mewl of a whimper came out. Fresh tears prickled behind my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t have fought for so long only to lose the fight. It wasn’t fair.
“Would painkillers help you at all?” I asked, my mind whirling. “Human medicine, I mean.”
“Where would you get that?” Jonah asked.
“Don’t worry about it.” I remained focused on Sirene, who barely shrugged.
“Perhaps… but… not enough.”
“I know.” Whatever I provided would only be a stopgap measure. It was a struggle, keeping my voice gentle and soft for her sake, as hopelessness turned to anger. She didn’t deserve to die. “I’ll do anything I can right now, and we’ll think of something better to do after that. All right? But please, please, just… rest and get your strength back, and don’t…” Die. Don’t die, please.
How could I ever look Fane in the eye if I let her go? I’d already witnessed his heartbreak over Nivia’s death, thinking he’d never get Elena back. How much worse would it be now?
My mind made up, I left her so I could wash up in the bathroom adjoining the bedroom. Her blood was all over my hands, under my nails.
Jonah came in as I scrubbed, still holding the baby. “What do you plan on doing?” he whispered.
“Don’t worry about it, I told you.”
“I hate this. You know I hate it when you take things on yourself and act rashly.”
Our eyes met in the mirror, mine flashing anger. “What do you want from me? Do you want me to stand around and let her die in agony? The least I can do is find something to soothe her. If she’s going to die, she should at least die in peace.”
“You’re going to do something dangerous, though. Aren’t you?”
“There are levels of danger,” I remind him, splashing my face in hopes of cleaning up some of the sweat that had dried there. Every muscle in my body ached horribly, and fatigue had settled into my bones. The last thing I wanted to do was sneak around the city in the dead of night, and he acted as though I was looking forward to the honor.
I turned to him, eyeing Sirene’s sleeping form in the next room before continuing. “I have to do something. You wouldn’t just sit here when you thought you might be able to help, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“So? I don’t see the problem. I wouldn’t do anything too crazy. You know that by now.”
“Do I?” he asked, one eyebrow arched.
“Thanks.” I took one more look at the sleeping baby, who looked so content in her brother’s arms, and made a mental note to get something for her to eat, too. Sirene wouldn’t be able to nurse in her condition. I hoped formula would be okay. She was half-witch too, though. Should I mix blood with it when I gave it to her? Would it be like when Sara was a baby? Or not? This was all too new to me. I locked eyes with Jonah. “I won’t be long. I promise.”
“Just come back. That’s all I can ask.” The baby stirred, and Jonah frowned. “Sooner, rather than later.”
“You don’t know anything about babies, do you?” I couldn’t keep from smiling, though it was a tired smile.
“Why would I?”
“You don’t remember when Philippa and Scott were babies?”
“Even if it weren’t hundreds of years ago,” he scowled, “things weren’t the same back then as they are today. Men and boys weren’t involved in childcare.”
“Understood.” I managed to turn away before rolling my eyes. “At any rate, I won’t be long if I can help it.”
“If you can help it?”
“You know what I mean, Jonah. For now, just do your best with her. I’ll bring back supplies.”
“Diapers?”
“Yes. Diapers and everything else.” It was almost endearing, how nervous he was. “Just stay with Sirene and be sure she doesn’t need anything. I’m sure water would come in handy right now. She’s done so much sweating.” And lost so much blood. I left that unsaid, though.
It gave him something to do, at any rate. We went back to Sirene, who was breathing evenly and was blessedly unconscious. Any respite from the pain.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I whispered, running a hand over her forehead before standing to slide my backpack on.
“There’s a drug store two blocks down,” Jonah murmured as he followed me.
“I know.”
“Be careful,” he urged before I left. There was no more time to talk over what I was about to do.
I hoped Jonah didn’t think the ring on my left hand gave him the right to question every choice I made. He had another think coming, if that was the case. As much as I adored it, I needed the freedom to make decisions even more. Just when I thought he understood that, he’d do something to make me doubt him.
Getting outside in the fresh air was helpful, at least. I could get the aroma of Sirene’s blood out of my nose. Unfortunate, that, almost like a bad joke. Struggling to deliver a baby while struggling to forget the blood all around me.
I wished I could get to Felicity. She might be able to help Sirene, and she wouldn’t care about the witch-vampire complication. At least, I didn’t think she would. She didn’t seem the
type.
There was no time for me to course back to Avellane’s entrance, though, and there was no telling if I’d be able to find her right away. With her concern about my mother and Allonic, she might be someplace else, and then I’d have nothing to show for all the time I’d wasted in going to get her.
And Sirene would die waiting for me.
I reached the block where the drug store sat and judged the types of foot traffic around it. Pretty light—the clock on the bank across the street read five-thirteen. That explained it. Even New Yorkers had to go to work in the morning, and the bars and pubs let out already. There was little excuse for the sort of activity I would’ve found only a couple of hours earlier.
Better for me, of course. I walked around to the alley behind the row of buildings with the hood of my sweatshirt pulled over my hair, as always, when I was in the middle of doing something not strictly allowed by law. The drug store was three buildings in—I counted as I walked down the alley, then surveyed the buildings on either side.
Unfortunately, apartments sat on top of each storefront, giving me no option for breaking in through the roof. I couldn’t very well cut a hole in someone’s bedroom floor.
My next option was to go in through the basement. Luck was on my side, as the double-doored entrance cut into the concrete was only held shut by a rusty old lock. It was nothing to use a pair of cutters, then swing one of the two doors open just enough to slide inside.
There would be an alarm system, wouldn’t there? I wouldn’t have much time. The basement was dark, but the door which led up to the sales floor was open, and security lights were on there. The light which shone down the wooden stairs was enough to guide me through.
I needed all sorts of baby things and had every intention of raiding that aisle, but there was something even more pressing. I could always pay for regular baby items. It was the painkillers that I knew I’d never be able to get without the permission of a doctor.
They’d be locked up. Another thing I’d learned from spending so much time in the city, having tuned an ear to the conversations of people on the train I used to take into town when Marcus would send me there, before I had gained the confidence to course out in the open. It had been a real eye-opener, too, the things I used to overhear. These drugs were heavily guarded, for one.
