Percy’s eyes shut against a strong wave of pain, and he cried out, jaw aching from clenching his teeth. The wave came and crested, holding for heartbeats, then eased. Percy tried pushing with it, but nothing happened. Too soon to push yet, and he relaxed.
He opened his eyes, just in time for the lights to go out.
Glass shattered nearby, and Edward went still beside him.
“What the devil is going on…?” Lord Lucius said at the doorway, and Percy watched as the noble turned to the hall. There was still enough light in the deepening twilight to see, the moon rising, its glow dim but filling the hall.
A shadow coalesced in the deeper darkness of the hall, solid black and tall. Percy cried out in alarm as the shadow moved, and Lord Lucius fell to the floor. “Edward!”
***
Edward
His heart stopped when the lights went out. Before he even heard the glass shatter down the hall, he knew.
His father had found them, and they were out of time.
Lucius fell, crumpled to the floor. Edward threw himself in front of Percy as the shadow at the door raised an arm, the gun firing. Flashes from the muzzle illuminated a man covered in black from head to toes, a semi-automatic weapon aimed right for him.
The nanosecond it took him to understand the gun was aimed at him, and not Percy, was all it took for Percy to see the same. His mate screamed, and lurched to the side, pushing Edward back. The gun fired, three shots, the whole of the world slowed in a horrible tableau. The bullets ripped through the air between them, and Edward’s heart stopped when he saw Percy jerk.
A swath of red bloomed in his side, and Percy stared up at him, ice-blue eyes wide in fear and pain. Edward caught Percy as he toppled to the bed, laying him on his side. Movement in the doorway made him look, and the gunman walked in the room, stepping over Lucius where he lay on the floor.
Rage unlike anything he’d ever felt swept over him. Edward screamed, and sprang to his feet. He charged the armed man, who wasn’t expecting it at all by the way he fumbled to aim at Edward. Edward poured his fear and horror into his rush, and he tackled the gunman, crashing them back out into the hall.
They smashed into the far wall, glass breaking, the window behind the gunman shattering, great showering lengths of razor-sharp shards cascading down on top of them. Edward wrapped his hands around the weapon, even as it fired wildly, shooting into the ceiling. Pain exploded along his shoulders and back, and Edward rolled away from the still falling glass.
Screams and shouting filled the hall. The gunman, clothing ripped by glass and covered in blood, roared in anger and towered above Edward, the gun missing but a long shard of glass in his hand. Edward kicked out, and hit the man square in the chest, arm raised to stab him where he lay on the floor. The man flew backward, and Edward scrambled to his feet.
They faced each other in the darkness, the shifting clouds in the sky hiding the rising moon, taking and giving away light as they circled. Edward fell into a defensive crouch, so very glad he had asked Reynard for lessons. He was no expert, and still lost to the captain every time, but by the Saints, he was going to save Percy and their babe if it was the last thing he did.
The man lunged, stabbing ahead with the blade of glass. Edward stepped forward, dodging the blow, and caught the man’s wrist, and brought his other hand down and smacked his opponent’s elbow. A pop, and the glass fell to the floor. The man screamed, but swung again with his other arm. Edward stepped forward again, and sent his knee up, slamming it into the other man’s groin. The man’s blow landed, but Edward was all instinct and thought was gone—he attacked with total purpose, to protect his mate.
Edward kept moving, pushing ahead, fist smashing into the cloth covered face, and he kicked the man backwards with a blow to his stomach. The man stumbled back, arms flailing, and Edward was about to follow when another shadow moved behind his opponent.
An arm snaked around the gunman’s throat, and a vicious boot to the back of his knee took him to the floor. The arm tightened, and there was sickening, wet snap, and the attacker’s body went limp.
Mason let the body drop at his feet. “Hey, Eddie, not bad. Keep your hands up next time.”
***
Percy
“Edward! Edward, no!” Percy screamed, as his mate and the stranger crashed back into the hall. He tried to get up, to follow, but his body refused to cooperate.
Percy fell back to the bed, his side slick with blood, Percy screamed, a contraction ripping through his body, and the wound on his side bloomed in agony. Blood ran from the bullet hole, and Percy slapped a hand over it, his legs pushing him back up to his knees, he was sweating profusely, body wracked by fine tremors, but he had a baby to deliver and he wasn’t going to fail.
The sounds coming in from the hall were horrible. Screams, shouts, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and the crashing of glass all made Percy desperate to see what was happening. He grabbed the headboard, and used it to hold himself up as he kept his other hand over the wound in his side. It was high, and near his bottom rib on the left side. It hit the top swell of his baby bump, but Percy could feel the child moving, lower in his womb, and he hoped that if the babe was hit as well, she could make it until he birthed her. She couldn’t be helped until he got her out.
A contraction came again, hitting out of nowhere. His fingers creaked as he clutched the headboard, sweating running down his body, and a gush of fluid was expelled, hot and thick, and the smell of warm flesh and blood was sickening. Whether this was normal or not it didn’t matter—Percy felt blood gush out of the bullet wound, the contraction forcing it to pump under his hand despite the pressure he was applying. His hand slipped, and more blood ran down his side.
It was happening. Even as his head spun, and black pots danced in front of his eyes, Percy could feel his body opening further. He pushed, straining, screaming, as a contraction crested.
***
Edward
He sprinted for the bedroom, Percy’s screams freezing his blood. He ran into the room and jumped over the man on the floor, and dashed to the bed in time to catch Percy as he fell over.
Blood ran down his entire left side. Blood stained the sheets, from the injury and from between his legs. Edward was about to lay him down when a slim hand reached out and stopped him.
“No! The male breeder births upright! Move him out of the blood, and hold him up!” Dr. Rosen told him, her orders clear and to the point. Edward did as she commanded, climbing over the bed, holding Percy up, out of the mess on the sheets. Edward crawled and pulled, and managed to get Percy upright and on his knees. Percy was moaning, eyes fluttering, barely conscious. Dr. Rosen crawled on the bed beside, him, snapping orders as she slapped a bandage over the wound in Percy’s side.
“Get the power back on now—we need light! Someone check the nobleman on the floor, make sure he’s alive. If he’s dead, get him out of the way. If he’s alive do the same, I’ll tend to him after I help Percy. Move it!” Dr. Rosen snapped out, and Mason and Reynard obeyed with alacrity.
Lucius was dragged to the side, but Edward couldn’t tell if he was alive or not. He couldn’t care. Callous, but Percy was waking in his arms. Reynard ran out of the room, as Mason came back from dragging Lucius out into the hall.
“Edward…” Percy sighed, ice-blue eyes wet with tears, sweat beading on his face.
“Little one,” Edward whispered, swallowing. Percy’s body bowed in his arms, and Edward could feel the tremendous effort put forth by each contraction. “Stay strong, stay awake for me.”
Mason was at Edward’s side, staring down at Percy as blood soaked the bandage and the small man gasped in pain. Dr. Rosen was behind Percy, gloves on, and she was checking between his mate’s legs.
“The baby is in the birth canal. I can’t tell if the baby was hit by the bullet, there’s more blood coming out from the uterus than there should be. Was he bleeding before he got shot?” She asked, sitting up, blonde hair mused and her clothes sta
ined by blood.
“No, he wasn’t,” Edward answered, heart sinking. “The fluid was clear, slightly pinkish, and thick. No blood.”
“Okay, that means the uterus was punctured by the bullet. We need to deliver, and now, before he bleeds out.”
“C-Section?” Mason asked, and Edward hoped not. Percy would lose too much blood.
“No, the baby is already presenting, it’s too late. Mason! Get those lights back on. Go help Reynard!” Dr. Rosen ordered, and Mason backed out of the room, face bone white and eyes haunted. Edward nodded to his brother, and Mason left, closing the door behind him.
“Edward, I love you,” Percy sighed, tears running from the corners of his eyes.
“I love you, too. Now stay awake for me.”
“I will. Want to hold my baby,” Percy trembled, and Edward could feel his body gathering for another contraction.
Dr. Rosen slid from the bed and ran to her bag, dropped by the door when she entered. She grabbed her gear, and came back to the bed, opening it and pulling out the contents.
Percy’s contraction bowled through his body like a tidal wave, and his small mate pushed. “Percy, should you be pushing?”
“Yes! Percy, push! You’re minutes away, don’t stop!” Dr. Rosen ordered as she climbed back on the bed. “Prince Edward, hold him high, and don’t let go.”
“I won’t. I’ll never let go,” Edward vowed to Percy, as Dr. Rosen got behind Percy, dragging her gear with her, medical equipment ready. He had no idea what any of that stuff was, and he was too absorbed by the man in his arms to care.
Percy pushed again, the contractions closer, more urgent, and Edward knew it was almost over. Percy was pale, sweating, and his head fell back on his shoulders as he arched into the contraction. Blood dripped down Percy’s side, rivulets staining his hip and thigh.
“Percy, push hard on the next wave! Almost done!” Dr. Rosen ordered, and Percy obeyed, pushing.
Edward waited, as Percy bled all over him and the bed, and their child fought to be born.
Epilogue
Mason
They ran back up the stairs, Reynard at his side. The generator in the basement was on, and they shut off the power to rest of the house but for the wing where Edward and Percy had their bedroom. Reynard had his gun out and up, in a ready position as they ran down the hall, sweeping the shadows.
There was no other sign of intruders, but for the dead man on the floor. Reynard believed it was a single assassin, sent to take out Edward as soon as he was vulnerable. Percy going into labor merely provided the assassin the distraction he need to get inside the mansion. The main fuse box was disabled, fuses torn out and missing, but they were able to get the generators up and running, bypassing the main panel.
Lucius was awake, leaning on the wall by Edward’s door. They ran down the hall, boots cracking over the shattered glass, broken from Edward’s fight with the assassin.
“Luke, is everyone alright? What’s happening?” Mason asked, as Reynard went to investigate the bedrooms on either side of Edward’s. “Where are the guards, dammit?”
“They’re securing the property, doing a sweep to see if there any more killers on their way. They’ve found a single unmarked SUV a mile away out near the main drive. There’s baby formula inside, and diapers. Medical supplies.” Luke met his eyes, and Mason was going to be sick.
“He was going to kill Eddie and Percy, and take the baby,” Mason breathed out, fighting back bile.
“I think so, yes,” Luke agreed, holding a hand to his head. He had a cut along his hairline, and spectacular bruising. “I poked my head in the room, but the beautiful doctor ordered me out. Said she’d call if she needed assistance.”
“What’s happening? Is Percy okay? You said he was shot,” Reynard came back, shrugging off his jacket so his holster under his left arm was more accessible. He put his gun in the holster, but left it unsnapped for easier drawing.
“I don’t know,” Mason replied, and he shook head to toe. They were almost too late. Any longer getting back from the capital with Dr. Rosen and it would have been a nightmare. Edward may have been able to defeat the assassin without Mason’s help, but none of them here had serious medical training, and helping a male breeder deliver after being shot was beyond them all.
They all went quiet, staring at the door.
Minutes passed. Eternity came and went.
Screams ripped apart the expectant silence.
The three of them jumped at the cry, and Lucius gripped Mason’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. He too tired to pace, and Mason winced when Percy cried out in pain again, thinner, less volume.
Weaker.
Mason let the tears come. For Edward, for Percy, for the baby in that room who hadn’t had a chance to live yet.
“Please, let them live,” Mason whispered, eyes drawn tight, sweat dripping down his face to blend with his tears of frustration and fear. “Please, by the grace of the Saints and the Blood of Our Line, let them live….”
A wail, thin and hopeless. Reynard swore viciously and spun, punching the wall, the sound of something breaking filling the empty quiet that fell just as suddenly. Lucius barely reacted, swallowing, and Mason grew taut as cable, and vibrated in horrific tension. Two of the three people he loved most in this world were in there now, fighting to bring a fourth into the world.
Mason spun away from the door, and went to the destroyed window, the moon fully risen now and shining her silver light down across the luxurious grounds. Reynard came to his side and embraced him, and they waited, tense and nervous.
The door behind them creaked open, a bare sliver of light spilling into the darkness where they waited. Mason spun, tottering as he almost fell over, and he anxiously approached the light, hoping even as he despaired. Luke watched impassively, accepting of whatever outcome. Reynard gripped his shoulder, keeping him upright.
“Are they…” he swallowed, and tried again, asking the form standing in the doorway, the light haloed behind the figure making features impossible to discern.
“Edward, is Percy…Is Percy alive? The baby?”
The door swung open, wider, revealing Edward. He was pale and bloody, eyes wide and pouring tears. They could see the bed behind him, sheets stained by blood, Dr. Rosen working at Percy’s side.
“Mason,” Edward said, and Mason tore his eyes away from Percy to see his little brother in front of him, holding a towel-wrapped bundle. “Mason, hold her while I go back to Percy. Dr. Rosen needs to stop the bleeding. Reynard, go in please, she needs someone with medical training.”
Reynard went, a single glance down at the squirming towel Edward held before slipping past into the room. Edward held out his arms, and Mason automatically responded, taking the tiny, wrinkled, whimpering babe from his brother. Edward backed away, and returned to Percy’s side.
Mason held her gently, his big arms feeling awkward and too hard as he cradled her as gently as he could to his chest. She stared back up at him, and he stepped forward just enough for the light in the room to illuminate her face.
A dark shock of ink black hair covered her head, and she was pretty, even for a babe minutes old. She stared up at him from a face that could only be Edward’s, but delicate and ethereal.
When she scrunched up her cupid’s bow lips and sucked in a great gust of air, letting loose a shrill cry, Mason laughed. Her ice-blue eyes were angry, and she appeared so fussed about being born in such an improper manner as during an assassination attempt. He fell in love with his newborn niece as she screamed bloody murder at the top of her lungs.
“Hello, niece of mine,” Mason whispered to the tiny babe in his arms, gently touching her button nose with a fingertip. “Looks like I was right.”
***
Percy
She was perfect. Ten toes, ten fingers, thick head of hair that Dr. Rosen said would fall out then grow back in. She was perfect, and beautiful, and she felt amazing in his arms. She looked just like Edward, but for one tiny detai
l.
She had his eyes. Ice-blue and crystalline pure.
“Percy!” Edward scolded as he came in the room, carrying a tray with their breakfast on it. Percy had eggs and toast, and the baby had formula. “Dr. Rosen said you could only hold her if you had someone with you, so you didn’t tear your stitches.”
Percy chuckled and shook his head. He was fine. He saw the bottle, and waited for Edward to get closer.
For one horrible moment Percy’s heart broke that he could not nurse his babe, but his body didn’t produce milk. Breeders were never designed to rear their young; they were separated immediately at birth, and so a breeder had no need for functional mammary glands. He rallied though as he sat up, holding her securely in the crook of his arm. She fit there perfectly as well, tiny and adorable.
His heart hurt just looking at her. Never in all his dreams did he ever truly dare to hope for this day. The day that he could hold his babe, his child, and never fear that her father would steal her away, leaving him broken and destroyed. Percy thanked Fate and the Universe again for bringing him Edward. Without his prince, none of this would be possible.
Edward settled the tray over his legs, and sat beside him on the bed. It was two days since he delivered, and he was feeling better every hour. His body was recovering from the birthing faster than the bullet wound, and Edward was amazed at his progress. Percy took the bottle from the tray, testing the temperature as the good doctor showed him, and held it up to his daughter’s lips. She latched on, and began suckling with impressive strength. She was Edward’s daughter all right.
Edward help a small piece of toast up, and Percy nibbled on it as he fed his baby. She had taken to the bottle instantly, without any trouble, impressing the doctor.
Percy was gazing down at her as Mason and Reynard came in, walking to where Edward sat and staring down at him and the baby. Mason winked at Percy, and grinned. Reynard gave him an awed smile, and went back to staring at his daughter, and Percy could tell the captain was as swayed as they all were by her charms.
A Royal Rebellion Page 15
