“Sis, please tell me you have great news about Layla,” I rushed out as I answered.
“I need you in here now, Sam.” Jo sounded exhausted, worried, and sad.
I pressed my knuckles into my chest as if I could stop my heart from ramming against my ribs. “Is Layla alive? Tell me, Jo.”
Tripp’s eyes widened.
Carly jerked away.
Jo sniffled. “We managed to stabilize her. Just get here, and I’ll explain.” Then she hung up.
I let out a small amount of air. “Layla’s stable,” I said to Tripp.
“Go.” He waved me off. “I’ll handle Carly.”
I sprinted for my fucking life—or rather, Layla’s. She was not dying on me. I didn’t give two fucks if I had to hunt down every witch on this planet for a spell. I would find a way to bring my huntress back.
5
SAM
Barely five minutes later, I was pushing through the double doors into the new wing of the infirmary, sweating my ass off as my heart clawed out of my chest.
Jo stood in the hallway with panic swimming in her silver eyes. “Hurry, please. I need to take your blood.”
“Doesn’t Doc have a supply?” Normally, he made sure he didn’t run out. Then again, Layla had been downing my blood like water as the babies grew.
“We don’t have any left.” She dashed into the scrub room with me on her heels.
“Talk to me, sis.”
Snagging nitrile gloves off the counter by the double sinks, she said, “When you brought Layla into the infirmary, her heart rate had been dropping. Her human body couldn’t handle carrying the babies anymore. She coded while we were waiting for Dr. Martin.”
Jo made quick work of drawing my blood. “We were able to revive Layla long enough for her to deliver your three daughters. But we had problems with your son. The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. The longer it took us to deliver him, the worse Layla got, and she flatlined once again.”
She switched out a filled vial for an empty one.
I swayed to one side, my heart beating erratically. “Are they okay? On the phone, you said Layla was stable.”
“They’re breathing, but their vitals aren’t improving. Layla’s body has been through the wringer. She might need time and fluids. As for your son, we think he needs your blood. After all, the babies needed it while they were growing in the womb. So it makes sense they would after they were born.”
Air punched from my lungs as I almost collapsed in relief on the floor. “Maybe my blood would help Layla too.”
She finished filling the second vial. “Possibly. I know this has been rough, brother. But on a good note, you have three beautiful baby girls, and they’re doing fine.”
Elation wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a snowy winter day, easing some of my panic. I couldn’t celebrate quite yet. Not until Doc gave Layla and our son a clean bill of health.
“Three girls and a boy,” I mumbled, more to ground myself in reality. “Layla dreamt we would have at least a boy and a girl.”
Dr. Martin had struck out on identifying the sex because of the way they were positioned inside Layla. Regardless, I had three daughters and a son. Knowing Layla and I were having quadruplets was one thing. But now I was truly a father. Me. Sam Mason. I’d never thought I would have kids. Hell, I never saw myself getting married. Yet I had a gorgeous auburn-haired goddess as my bride and four newborns. Fate had gotten something right.
Someone knocked on the window over the double sinks to my right.
Jo looked to her left.
Doc’s tired brown eyes met my green ones. “I need that blood stat, Jo. The boy’s vitals are dropping.” Fear was stamped on his face, causing my pulse to skyrocket as Doc disappeared from view.
Jo collected the two vials and darted into the OR.
