Cara smoothed back her hair. “You’re at seven months, sweetheart. The babe is early, but he’s strong.”
Janie tried to take comfort from her mother’s soft words. But had the baby’s early exposure to the virus weakened him? Or the falls she’d just taken during the fight? Now she lay in an unfinished facility, half-nude, covered by a sheet, because they didn’t even have hospital gowns. “Don’t you have anything to stop the contractions?”
“No.” Emma felt for Janie’s pulse and looked at the ceiling. “You need to take several deep breaths and try to slow your heart rate. It’s way too fast.” She eyed Cara. “A stethoscope won’t work on the baby, and neither would a monitor. If we had one.”
Cara nodded and patted Janie’s arm. “I know. Vampire babies are too well insulated.”
So there was no way to see if he was doing all right. Janie tried to hold still and not move. Maybe if she stopped moving, then the contractions would ebb. “Where’s Zane?”
Emma wiped Janie’s brow with a wet towel. “He’s getting patched up in the next room and will be here soon. We can’t have him bleeding all over everything.” Her smile trembled on her lips. “Women have been giving birth in fields forever, Janie. This is fine, and your son will be perfectly healthy.”
Janie nodded. “If there’s a problem? What do we have here?”
“The lab is stocked,” Emma said. “We were moving on to the medical facilities next.”
So basically . . . no medicine.
Cara leaned in and grasped Janie’s hand in hers. “I gave birth to Garrett in an underground jail cell. Remember?”
Janie forced a smile. “That’s right. Simone and Moira helped you.” Maybe they should get a witch in the room. Although manipulating quantum physics wouldn’t help right now. A contraction ripped into her, and she cried out.
Emma cleared her throat and reached for the sheet. “Let me just take a gander, Jane.” She looked for a moment and then gently felt Janie. “You’re dilated at about a four.” Emma stepped back to the narrow counter to wash her hands in the small sink. “This little guy is showing up today.”
Zane kept his face stoic and tried to concentrate on a tiny spot on the rock wall. The needle dug in again.
“You doing okay?” Talen Kayrs asked, his thick fingers working the thread through Zane’s flesh.
“Yes.” Although he might pass out from loss of blood. He sat on an old folding chair in a large, empty cavern in the rock. The emergency headquarters lacked pretty much everything. “Thank you.”
Talen chuckled, his gray head bent at the task. He looked like a ninety-year-old human, and he moved as slowly. “Thank you for saving Janie. It’s a miracle you were able to teleport.”
“Or fate.” There was no way Zane had made it on his own, was there?
“Or you.” Talen slapped a bandage over Zane’s chest wounds. “There’s no stronger drive in the universe than the need to keep a mate safe.” He stood and straightened his back, the vertebra popping loudly.
Zane nodded, trying once again to force his wounds closed. Nothing happened.
Sam and Logan hastened into the room.
“Mom’s secure with a couple of the witches closer to the center of the mountain,” Sam reported.
Logan frowned, worry glinting in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
No. In fact, Zane could feel the energy leaving his body. He had to live. Just long enough to see his kid.
Dage strode into the room followed by Conn, Kane, Jase, Max, and Garrett. The king’s gnarled hands shook on a stack of papers. “How is Janie?”
“Getting settled,” Zane answered. “Emma is coming to get me as soon as they have her in place. The baby is coming today.”
Dage smiled cracked teeth, lifting new wrinkles at his eyes. “Good. I’d like to meet your son. Before . . .”
“Before what?” Garrett shoved away from the wall, panic filling his tone.
Talen turned toward his son. “We’ve had reports of five vampires across the world dying during the last week. Apparently the virus works very quickly once death is close.” He turned, and a crack echoed through the room. Shock opened his mouth, and he fell flat on his butt.
Garrett rushed forward. “Dad?”
Talen growled and grabbed his hip. “Broken.”
