Conn rushed toward her. “What, Dailtín? What’s wrong?”
Moira swayed and grabbed both his forearms. “You’re, ah, not going to believe this. I mean—”
He yanked her into him for a hug and rubbed a huge hand down her back. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. What’s going on?”
Moira levered back. “I’m pregnant.”
Conn stilled. Completely. “Wh-what?”
Moira nodded vigorously. “Emma just confirmed it in the lab. I’m with child.”
A brilliant smile split Conn’s face, and he bellowed a champion’s cry. He swung her up and around before holding her tight.
Janie wiped away tears and discreetly headed for the doorway to give them space.
A baby.
She and Moira would both have little ones. How exciting. And how very terrifying—especially if the virus took their mates and left them all alone.
Straightening her shoulders, she marched through the building to the lab. She was going to kill this little fucker of a virus and now.
Month 4: Max
Janie knocked on the large metal door set into a contemporary oceanfront home and smiled when Max Petrovsky opened it, dressed in worn sweats and nothing else.
Even ill and leaner than ever before, Max’s cut figure looked every bit the hunter he was known to be.
“I need your help,” Janie said.
Max stepped aside to allow her entry. “Anything.”
She moved inside the comfortably furnished home. Thick, cushioned sofas angled toward a rock-wall fireplace with colorful pillows strewn throughout in a welcoming chaos.
Max shut the door and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sarah isn’t here.”
“I know. She’s in school right now.” The vampires were trying to keep the routine as normal as possible for everyone, and that included school for the shifter and vampire kids. Sarah was the main teacher for the Realm. Janie sank into the sofa with a sigh of relief.
“How are you feeling?” Max retrieved a shirt from a pile of folded laundry on an ottoman and yanked it over his head. “I thought the second trimester was supposed to be better?”
“I feel better,” Janie lied. It was hard to feel anything but nauseated by the obvious decline in the vampire men. “How are you feeling?”
“Fantastic. What can I do to help?” Max asked, his formidable concentration solely on her.
“Zane wants to go fight Suri, and I need you to stop him.”
Max lowered heavy brows. “Why me?”
Because the king and her dad agreed with Zane. “You’re the voice of reason and always have been. Dage listens to you when things get emotional. This is emotional.”
Max had been more than a bodyguard and more than another uncle to Janie through the years. He was good and kind and truly saw the world in straight lines.
“I need you to talk to Dage,” she said.
Max shook his head. “Dage isn’t the key to this. Zane is.”
As if on cue, a heavy knock echoed on the door.
Max gave her a look and opened the door to reveal Zane. “What a surprise,” Max muttered, gesturing him inside.
