by Abella Ward
"Count to ten and stop me." He grasped one of the silver stakes and pressed it into his hand. "Drive it back into my wound if you have to."
Maribel nodded. She closed her eyes. His breath was cold against her skin. His fangs grazed her skin. A sharp sting made her gasp. The sting turned more painful and she couldn't stop herself from crying out. And then the pain was gone. She felt Sheridan suck. A rush coursed through her. It wasn't pain, but it wasn't pleasure either. It was something else, something that made her arms buckle. She fell down over him.
"One," she gasped. "Two. Three."
Another pull. Sparks exploded over her vision. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
"Four. Five. Six. Seven."
Sheridan held her tighter.
"Eight."
His hands clenched her arms.
"Nine."
He released her abruptly, gasping. Maribel’s heart beat wildly, exhaustion running through her blood. The world swayed beneath her. But she rose her head just the same. Sheridan looked down at her. Their eyes met. His face was regaining what little color it normally had. He brushed his fingers against her cheek.
"Ten," she whispered. "Told you."
"Yes, you did." His eyes closed. "You're always right."
"Are you going to be okay?"
"Yes. I just need to rest for a moment. Then we can go home."
"Home," Maribel whispered. "That sounds good."
Chapter Ten – Sheridan
A scream made Sheridan jump. He winced as his still-healing wounds pulled. There had been substantial damage to his bones where the spikes had been driven through, and even after all these months, he still wasn't back to peak condition. If it wasn't for the silver Armstrong had used, he would have been healed within a week, two tops, but with the extra damage of silver poisoning, it had taken him four times that long just to start walking again.
Another scream rang down the corridor. Sheridan's heart jolted. Whatever pain he was still in from his injuries, it was nothing compared to the agony he could hear Maribel was in. He felt sick with worry, but there was nothing he could do.
Maribel was in labor and had been for the past two hours. The midwives wouldn't permit him into the birthing room with her, declaring that birthing babies was women's business. He wished he could be there, to hold her hand as she went through this pain.
The scream died off and Sheridan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He'd never felt so helpless before. Even when they had been in Armstrong's clutches, when he was forced to stay still while the nails were driven into his body, he hadn't felt like this. Then he knew he could do something to save Maribel if he needed to.
And he had. The agony of ripping himself off that cross would stay with him forever, but he had saved her.
Now, if something went wrong with the birth, there was nothing he could do. No amount of brute force or strength of will would be able to free her from the dangers of childbirth. He was helpless.
Billie walked up the corridor. She winced as Maribel let loose another scream. Sheridan dug his fingernails into his palm until this scream passed as well. With a sigh, he yanked at his hair. If something didn't happen soon, he was going to go crazy.
"You're a woman," he said to Billie. "Go into the birthing room and find out what's happening."
"Sir, with all due respect I'll only get in the way. Labor takes a long time. I remember when my younger brother was born my mother took nearly a full day to birth him."
Sheridan blanched. How could he survive another hour of this, let alone a day? More importantly, how could Maribel? Even in this day and age when there were so many medical advancements and knowledge, women still had to go through this!
"Why did I ever decide I wanted to be a father?" He yanked harder on his hair. "I would take it all back to stop Maribel from being in this agony!"
Billie smiled sympathetically. "She'll be fine, my lord. You have the best midwives available and all the equipment they need. She is the one who decided she didn’t want drugs. But if I can distract you?"
Sheridan let his hands fall to his side and nodded. "What news have you brought me?"
"The governor has once again extended a personal apology to you for your mistreatment at Armstrong's hands and has decided on a compensation for the blood donors whose identities were revealed. The investigation into the vampire relations bureau is still under way, but so far there have been no other anti-vampire sentiments found in it. And the men that attacked you with Bennet and Armstrong have both been caught."
Sheridan nodded in satisfaction. That was good to hear. Since the attack on his person, the governor had been bending over backward to keep the relationship with the vampire kingdom friendly. A war with vampires would be costly, not only in terms of loss of life but also in trade. The king had no desire to make things more difficult than they had to be, but it was a good wake-up call for the humans to police themselves better.
"Invite the governor to come see the baby," Sheridan said, brow furrowing. "I'm getting tired of his apologies."
"And have you made a final decision about Romanoff?"
Sheridan ran his hand through his hair. "Yes. The general will stay in the dungeons, except for a few hours every day when he serves at a human soup kitchen. Maybe if he serves them, he will develop compassion."
"And if it doesn't work?"
"Make sure he's always heavily guarded when among the humans." After experiencing being nailed to a cross himself, he was never going to threaten crucifixion again. It was his hope that Romanoff would come to see reason eventually.
The door to the end of the hall opened. A wizened little woman came sweeping down the corridor, a satisfied smile on her face. As she got closer, Sheridan could smell blood and the distinctive scent of newborn baby on her. He ran to meet her.
"Your daughter has been born, my lord."
A girl. Sheridan's face broke into a smile. "May I see them?"
The midwife nodded.
Sheridan turned to Billie. "Gather everybody in the ballroom for the announcement, and prepare a statement for the press."
Billie nodded. Sheridan raced down the corridor, beaming. The midwife followed close behind him and made him wash his hands before he was allowed into the birthing room. The other midwives bustled about, cleaning up, but Sheridan went straight to the bed where Maribel was lying. Her skin was pale with exhaustion, brow sweaty, and dark bags circled under her eyes.
She was so beautiful.
"Hey," she croaked at him.
Sheridan sat on the bed next to her and peered into the face of the tiny baby she was holding. "Hey."
The hospital gown she wore was on backward, the opening at the front. It was gaping so that the baby could rest right against her chest, a receiving blanket covering them both. Big brown eyes, blinking and squinting, peered out of the tiny wrinkled face. Sheridan gently stroked the downy hair.
"She's beautiful," he whispered. "Perfect, just like you."
Maribel smiled sleepily. "I don't feel all that perfect right now. I feel like I was just hit by a truck."
Sheridan had to laugh at that. He looked up as the midwife checked Maribel's pulse and her eyes. "Can I take her back to our room?"
"Always in a rush!" The midwife rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Men! The woman just had a baby. Give her half an hour and we'll see. But if you want your privacy, we can give you some."
"Thank you. You may go announce the baby's gender now."
The midwife bowed at her waist. She hustled the rest of the midwives out quickly, leaving husband and wife alone. The baby was rooting around, her lips pursed. Maribel shifted her hospital gown off her breast and held the baby to it. The baby girl latched on and began to drink eagerly.
"Amazing. She knows exactly what to do." Sheridan beamed.
"Mmmm. I wish I could say the same. I know we took those parenting classes and everything, but I still worry. I never even had a babysitting gig before this. What if I do
something wrong?"
Sheridan kissed her forehead. "You won't be alone."
"Yes. Yes, you're right. I don't have to do this on my own. I have you."
"Of course. You have me, and you'll always have me."
He wrapped an arm around her. Maribel laid her head against his shoulder, nestling in closer to him. Both were silent as they watched their little baby feed. Sheridan kissed his wife. The road bringing them here had been painful, but oh so worth it. If he had a choice, he would do it all again.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you, too."
Maribel kissed him as a cheer rose from the ballroom.
*****
THE END
Paranormal Shifter Romance Collection
The Shifter's Hostage
Description
A curvy gal with hidden powers PLUS an insanely sexy dragon shifter PLUS dangerous creatures looking for their next target…
Lydia is a curvy restaurant manager who doesn’t need unfriendly customers. Least of all the arrogant, but unfortunately extremely sexy billionaire who keeps sending back his food.
But when she’s suddenly attacked by a bunch of demons, the billionaire might just be the only one who can save her. Even if that means he has to keep her hostage in his fancy mansion. Just her luck…
Ian Orkney a.k.a. “The A**hole” wants everything to be done exactly his way. But behind his self-built wall is a man who has lost everyone he loved.
What he really wants is a mate and children. But that means he’d have to reveal the secret he’s been keeping for almost three hundred years: He’s the last of the dragons. His job is to protect the world against demons. And his newest project involves a human. An incredibly sexy one.
Not that that matters.
He could never love a human.
Right?
Chapter One – Lydia
"Please, just kill me already."
Lydia Crawford lay stretched out on the floor of the restaurant she managed, the cool floor doing nothing to soothe the swollen, uncomfortable ache in her belly. Her waistband cut into her stomach, her skin stretched to the point where she felt like a single poke would make her burst open like an overripe peach. She moaned in agony.
The head chef of the restaurant, Amber, finished wiping down her food prep station and turned towards Lydia with a critical look in her eye. "You know, it's your own fault you're in this state."
Lydia managed half a glare at her. "Is not."
"Hey, nobody forced you to eat all that dessert. In fact, if I recall, I warned you that you shouldn't." Amber shook her head, smoothing her apron over slender hips. "It'll be a miracle if you don't die during the night. That was enough food to feed three tables. You should have just let me throw it in the trash."
"But they were only three days old," Lydia protested. "And you know that Boston cream pie is my favorite. And blueberry cheesecake, and coconut cupcakes… I couldn't let it all go to waste!"
Amber nudged Lydia's side with her toe just enough to make the horizontal manager groan again. "If you keep that up, it will all go to your waist. For all your moaning about not being able to lose weight—"
"Yes, thank you," Lydia interrupted. "If you're not going to sympathize with my terrible plight, the least you could do is get a flour sack and suffocate me with it. Put me out of my miserable, hypocritical existence."
Amber rolled her eyes. "Get up. You're my ride home."
"My keys are in my coat pocket. Just leave me here to die."
"Okay, now you're just getting annoying. Let's go. "
Lydia sighed. She ought to have known she wouldn’t get any sympathy from Amber. It didn't help that they went through this ritual at least once a month. It just hurt to see all those beautiful desserts getting chucked into the garbage because three days was apparently too old. To make matters worse, the restaurant owner, Maria, was against donating leftover food. It was a tragedy. If they were going to the homeless or basically any cause besides rotting in a landfill, Lydia wouldn't have to eat them all.
"Come on," Amber pressed, tapping her foot impatiently. "If we're quick about getting out of here, I'll be able to catch a rerun of I Love Lucy before it's time to go to bed."
"I hate Lucy," Lydia grumbled but nonetheless rolled over. She groaned as her too-full stomach wobbled in protest. Maybe this time she'd learned her lesson and she wouldn't overindulge like this again in the future. "You know, this is all your fault. If you weren't such a good cook, I wouldn't gorge myself on your food all the time."
Amber prodded Lydia in the stomach, making her groan again. "If you weren't a glutton, you wouldn't be in this situation."
Lydia got to her feet, the heaviness of the food resting on her pelvic bones. Ugh. "Keep it up, missy. Just keep laughing at me, and when I open up a restaurant of my own, I'll leave you here with this dump to rot among your three-day-old pies."
"If you even open your own restaurant. You've been saying that for, what, five years now?" Amber patted her back gently as if trying to burp her like a baby. "Always the threat of not hiring me on. But it's not much of a threat if you don't have your own place, is it?"
That was true enough. Lydia stuffed her arms into her jacket, frowning as she considered it. It was a big risk to open up her own place. A risk she wanted to take, but one she was too frightened to make just yet. She always said she needed more experience and money, but she practically ran Maria's restaurant single-handedly and handled most of the business as well as managing the workers. She knew all the ropes. With Amber as a partner, they had more than enough money for the initial investment. All they really needed was a loan to handle the first few months and they could have their own place in no time.
"I don't think it's the right time," Lydia said. "Not with the economy the way it is right now. Even this place has been a bit slower for a couple months now."
Amber shook her head, looking a little exasperated. "Is it ever going to be the right time for you? Lydia, you know I've received other offers. If things don't start happening between us, I'm going to have to accept one of them. We've got dreams, yeah, but I have dreams, too. And they don't involve sitting around here with Maria scolding me for every ounce of flour that goes to waste or getting into a tizzy about the cakes and pies we have to throw out, but then going back and yelling at me for not having three days' worth of desserts premade for customers."
"I know. I know." Lydia sighed.
She needed to just push on through and get things done, but it was difficult for her to make changes in her life. It was easy for her to push back against Maria's unreasonable attitude, but leaps of faith were never her strong suit.
"Okay, I'll make you a deal," she said, looking Amber in the eye. "I am going to get my head on straight and we'll start the process of opening our own place by the end of the month. If I'm not ready by then… then it might be better for you to take up one of those offers. I don't want you waiting around here forever."
"Deal."
The two women shook hands, then laughed at how formal they were being. They headed for the door leading from the kitchen, but before they got there, two men rushed into the room. Both wore black masks covering their faces. Guns glinted in their hands.
Amber clutched Lydia's arm, gasping. Lydia reached for a knife to use as a weapon, then snatched her hand back. They had guns.
"We're unarmed – don't shoot," she said, raising her hands. "My money is in my purse. Just take what you want and leave us alone."
The men didn't speak as they came at the women. Amber screamed. Lydia filled her lungs, ready to do the same. As soon as one of the guns buried itself in her ribs, however, she froze. Air fled her, her heart hammering. She couldn't move as she stared at the eyes, the only visible part of his face. They were cold, calculating. Bile rose in her throat and the old scar on her chest ached with a burning fire.
Still silent, the men shoved at both her and Amber. Lydia stumbled, almost hitting the floor, but Amber's cli
nging kept her upright. What were they going to do? Images flashed in Lydia's mind, making her stomach churn. She squeezed Amber's hand as they were forced into the freezer, the bitterly cold air misting her breath in front of her face.
Lydia yelped a strangled scream as one of the men plunged his hand into her pocket. He yanked out her cellphone while the other man took Amber's. They slipped out of the freezer and slammed the door. Lydia reached for the inside handle but withdrew.
Tears flooded her eyes. She was going to die. They didn't get her twenty years ago and were back to finish the job. They were going to kill her like they killed her parents—
"I don't want to die," Amber whimpered. "Don't let them…"
Lydia shoved aside her racing thoughts. This wasn't connected to her parents' murders all those years ago. She took stock of the room. There was no way to activate the alarm in here, but the temperature controls were inside the room and there was no way to lock the freezer doors.
"If they wanted to hurt us, they would be doing that, not leaving us in here." Their breath clouded the air, but Lydia took a silent moment to be grateful they'd both put on their jackets before the masked men came in. "Come on, they can't lock us in here, but they might be able to jam the door. Turn the thermostat up all the way to make sure we don't freeze, and then help me move this rack in front of the door. If they want to come back for us, we'll put up such a wall that it won't be worth it."
Amber shuddered but moved to do as Lydia said. Lydia herself wrapped her hands in the sleeves of her jacket and moved to the first rack. Just as she grabbed it, the sound of an explosion made the ground rumble. She stumbled backward, tripping over a fallen bucket of ice-cream.
The door opened and Amber screamed, but it wasn't the black-masked men who stepped into the freezer. Lydia's jaw dropped open when she saw the man standing there. Taller than her by at least a foot with sandy-brown hair, stunning gray eyes, and a body that you'd have to live in the gym to get.
