21
SAM
The heart monitor beeped every now and then. I hadn’t left Layla’s room in four days. She’d been in and out of consciousness but was on the mend. She needed sleep and lots of it, according to Doc. He urged me to do the same, but no one could pry me out of here. My sister, Jo, tried. If my dad were here, he would give it his best shot. The only one who hadn’t attempted to say a word to me about rest or sleep was Webb. He knew damn well it would take an army to pull me away from Layla’s bedside. Even then, a hundred troops couldn’t complete that task. Webb had been in my shoes once before when Jo was fighting for her life. She’d had a cobalt blade driven through her immortal heart by a former pissed-off girlfriend of Webb’s.
Layla’s circumstances were different but, in my mind, worse. After all, she was human and had been through an ordeal far worse than hell. A car crash, then being lost in the mountains for three days with no food, hardly any water, no blood, and dealing with her depraved grandmother, sister, and cousin. If that wasn’t the bowels of purgatory, then being injected with a genetics-altering concoction sure the fuck was. I didn’t even want to think about the ramifications of what Carly’s SS2, as she called it, would have on Layla.Fucking Rianne.
I was anxious to know how Layla felt about me stabbing her sister. During the short bursts of time when Layla was awake, we’d talked about her ordeal, but she’d never asked about Rianne. Part of me sensed she didn’t want to know. I hated that she’d witnessed what I’d done to her sister, but the bitch left me no choice. When I’d seen her going for Layla with that blade, I’d lost my shit.
Was Rianne alive? I had no clue. Her heart had been slowing down when I threw her into the building. I didn’t care one way or the other if she’d lived or died. If she’d survived, I was confident that sometime in the future, Rianne would meet her maker.
I shucked the bitch from my mind, unfurled my fisted hands, and switched gears to something happier. I swiped the sonogram from the bedside table and grinned like a proud bastard—a soon-to-be father. Me? A dad? It had been exactly eight days since Dr. Martin dropped the wonderful bomb on Layla and me in the ER exam room that she was carrying four fetuses. I hadn’t had time to process the idea of quadruplets. Or what I would be like as a dad. Would I be overprotective? Suffocating? Nervous? Fuck. If we had girls, I had to teach them how to fight as soon as they were old enough, just like Webb and Jo had been training Abbey.
I glanced at my sleeping beauty. The color had returned to her cheeks. Her hands were no longer clammy. Her full lips weren’t as chapped as they’d been when I found her. Her auburn hair was oily but nothing my expert fingers and a bottle of shampoo couldn’t fix. I grinned at the remembrance of washing her hair once before. She’d giggled the entire time.
Nevertheless, she looked peaceful and gorgeous. Her eyes darted back and forth rapidly beneath her eyelids, indicating she was in a deep REM sleep and possibly dreaming.
I returned my attention to the sonogram. Layla had cried happy tears when Dr. Martin told us the babies were fine. I might have also shed a tear or two. Then Layla mentioned the nursery. I didn’t give it a passing thought at the time. My main concern was her.
“Sleep,” I said. “We’ll talk about that later.”
She hadn’t protested. But as I sat there now, an overwhelming feeling washed over me at what lay ahead. We had to start thinking of cribs, names, and everything else that babies needed—four of everything. I shoved both hands through my hair as I leaned my elbows on my knees and sighed. I’d had a dull headache since the chip had shut down.
Jo’s lavender scent announced her before she sashayed in, wearing a light-purple top that brought out the streaks of purple in her black hair. She sidled up to Layla’s bedside opposite me, sporting a loving smile.
I straightened in the chair. “Spill, sis. What are the results of the DNA comparison?” That was the only remaining question hanging in the balance. Carly had assured Layla that the small amount of SS2 that was injected into her wouldn’t have any effect. Carly might have helped us, but that didn’t mean we could trust her. When it came to drugs or anything of the like, each person reacted differently to the type and the dosage.
“There’s no change between her original DNA results we ran in Boston to the tests we recently ran. Layla and the unborn babies shouldn’t be effected by the SS2,” Jo announced with a beaming smile.
Dropping my head, I mumbled, “Thank you.” Then I was on my feet and hugging the crap out of my sister.
Easing away, she flattened her hand on my scruffy jaw. “You look like shit, Sam. You need a shower, shave, and sleep. I’ll watch over Layla. Nothing will happen to her. She’s safe now.”
Safewas a word that didn’t mean shit in my world. Layla and I would always be exposed to danger, harm, and whatever the fuck our enemies were after. Even more so with Mason kids on the way. I shoved those thoughts into a file drawer for now. Layla was home, and I had other plans in store for my baby mama.
I kissed Jo on the forehead, then tucked the sonogram into my back pocket. “I love you more than anything. I know you’re concerned about me, but you wouldn’t leave this room if Webb were lying in that bed. Come to think of it, you didn’t when he was rushed in on a stretcher after a mission gone wrong, and even when he was recovering, you didn’t either.”
She gave me a weak smile. “True. But you’re her protector, Sam. You’re no good to Layla if you’re not one hundred percent. We might be mostly invincible, but our powers will weaken if we don’t rest. You know this, brother. And if you remember, Webb took me away from base so we could both heal and relax.”
I rubbed the tight muscles in my neck as a thought came to me. Layla loved the ocean. Jo’s house in Maine was the perfect spot for rest and relaxation. We wouldn’t be bothered, and we would be protected. The town was home to a populace of one hundred percent vampires who watched over each family with a keen eye and would know in an instant if any strangers were lurking around.
“Great idea,” she said, reading my mind. “Stan can assign a couple of his deputies to guard the house.”
Butterflies finally came alive inside me. “I want to officially propose, and Layla loves the ocean.”
Jo couldn’t contain a smile. “I’m dying to plan the wedding, the baby shower, and I’ll help with nursery.”
Her giddiness was contagious, causing me to laugh, and it felt out of this world. “Slow down, Jo. One thing at a time.” That overwhelming feeling returned at the mention of the nursery.
She fastened her hands on her hips. “Sam Mason, things are moving fast. Before you know it, Layla will be delivering. And once my nieces or nephews are born, you will not have time to breathe.”
“Maybe we should elope,” I mumbled.
She pursed her lips. “Over my dead body.”
Webb cleared his throat as he waltzed in.
Perfect timing.I didn’t want to argue with Jo over a wedding. If it was up to me, we would definitely elope.
