"These medicines don't seem to be working," he said, peering at the bottle and shaking it. The vitamins were disguised as pills, with different labels and everything. "I've never even heard of these."
"I trust that doctor," said Kade cagily. "He really seemed to know his stuff. I mean, I could visit a different one if you think that would be better."
And so Kade had gone to another shifter doctor on the outskirts of Baltimore, who had checked up on the baby. I went with Kade, so we got to see ultrasounds. It felt good to be involved in the life of my child. It was just too bad we couldn't share our good news with the rest of the band.
Of course, the doctor had simply given Kade a different set of "medicines." But Kade was adamant, and refused to see a doctor that Michael picked out. He kept insisting that his insurance worked in strange ways, which was an absurd claim, because he was wealthy enough to afford the best medical care anywhere, but Michael didn't prod him too much as long as he was able to perform reasonably well.
And that's exactly what he did. The New York concert, which was one of the biggest, went off without any noticeable hitches from the audience's perspective. But I could tell it took a significant toll on him.
He was such a trooper. I was impressed. He was able to hide how horrible he felt from the others, instead putting on a brooding act that he insisted was because of his worry over writing the next album. But he wasn't worried about the album at all, at least not now. He was worried about the baby.
Next, he only had to get through Detroit and Chicago. The latter was going to be another huge concert, and he was starting to show already, meaning the baby was going to come soon. The shorter gestation period shifters had was often a blessing, because we didn't have to spend nine months wracked with nausea and discomfort, but in this case, it was becoming a curse.
Kade made up all sorts of wild excuses, and the band became worried about him. He started wearing my hoodie, saying that he wanted to wear his partner's clothing, and they bought that. It was much too big for him, so it hid his belly well, but it made him overheat on stage.
But I had been right. It did not at all occur to the humans that Kade could be pregnant. Male pregnancy had no place in their worldview, so while they found his weight gain bizarre, they had no idea he could be carrying a child.
The weeks flew by, punctuated by more frequent visits to various shifter doctors, until the tour was finally over and we were back in Lake City. Kade immediately withdrew, citing a need for creative inspiration, but I knew better.
This was where things became a little strange. I had decided, at this point, that I had to step up and be with him, regardless of my personal feelings about being in a serious relationship. The child needed its father. But we had started dating in a strange environment-the tour. We got to know each other in hotels and on the road, in strange cities.
Now that we were both back in the place that we called home, the tour-and all of the intimacy we shared during it-seemed like a strange dream, with the baby the only thing we had to show for it.
"Is it cool if I come over?" I asked, worried that he would say no, yet again. But this time, he didn't.
"I guess so," he said. "I feel like I'm about ready to pop. I could use a massage. If you're up for it, that is."
"Of course," I said. "I'll be there in half an hour."
I rushed to change into jeans and grab my stuff for sleeping over. He very rarely wanted to see me; perhaps it really was creative inspiration he was seeking. It had stung, but at least I knew the reason. He just felt like crap all the time, with his heavily bloated belly and overwhelming fatigue.
When I arrived at his penthouse, I hugged him tightly, glad to finally be close to him again. The first time I had visited, I had been dazzled by the luxury. His place was on the very top of one of the city's fanciest hotels, and it was several times larger than my apartment. There was a home theater, a hot tub, and a wide glass wall with a magnificent view of the skyline. On my first visit, I had spent a good half an hour walking around the place and taking it in.
But now, all I wanted was to make sure Kade was okay. He slumped in my arms as we sat down, exhausted.
"I'm sorry I've been so prickly," he said, weariness evident in his voice. "I just haven't felt like seeing anyone."
"Not even your Alpha?"
"Not even my Alpha," he said, shaking his head. "I've just been through two exhausting experiences, being pregnant and going on tour. It's been overwhelming."
I rubbed his back. "You want that massage now?"
"Yes, please," he said, closing his eyes as I started kneading his shoulders.
It was remarkably quiet up here, I thought. We were too far away from the ground to hear the street, and the floor was thick enough that we couldn't hear any sound leaking from below. This was the ultimate in privacy, and it seemed like a safe haven after the close quarters of the tour.
"Have you seen the other guys?" I asked.
"No," he said. "I feel bad, but I've just been telling them that I'm exhausted and need to recharge. I also promised them that I'd be working on new material, but of course, that hasn't happened."
"It's okay. Your priority right now is the health of the baby. You can take your time."
I continued to work his shoulders; he had a lot of knots in them, probably because he wasn't sleeping well. I wished I could sleep by his side, holding him safe and close to me, but I had to respect his wishes to be left alone. It was yet another thing my wolf didn't understand.
He sighed. "I feel wet again," he said, extricating himself from my hands and standing up.
"Wet?"
"Yeah. Sometimes I just … leak. And I get wet. And I'm always paranoid that it's my water breaking."
He sounded miserable. I watched as he stalked off to the bathroom, making sure he didn't falter. But he seemed fine.
I turned my attention to the window, watching the skyscrapers start to sparkle as night fell over the city in a gradient of rainbow colors. A lone airplane flew in the distance, a steadily moving star. The clouds were striated in shades of blue, and the sun glowed in vibrant, fiery shades as it disappeared over the horizon.
"Xander!" cried Kade. My heart jolted.
"What happened?"
"My water broke!"
I immediately shot up and bolted over to the bathroom, grabbing a towel for Kade. I helped him clean up and get his sweatpants back on, then scrambled for his keys and wallet while he tottered to the front door.
"This is everything you need, right?"
"Yeah, thanks, Xander," he said. "I'm glad I asked you to come tonight."
We quickly went down the elevator and to the garage, where Kade kept his sportscar. A Shelby Mustang seemed like a ludicrous car to take to the clinic, but it was quick, and I wove through traffic easily. Despite my urgency, the experience of driving the car wasn't lost on me.
We arrived at the clinic of Dr. Paylor, a kindly old woman who was the city's premier shifter doctor. I had been to her many times before for aches and illnesses, and like other shifter clinics, the warm tones and natural setting had always put me at ease. It would be the perfect place for our baby to be born.
The receptionist recognized the situation immediately. "Go on through," she said. "We'll see you immediately."
Dr. Paylor herself found us quickly. "So, the little girl is here, yeah?" she said. "It's a big day!"
Kade managed a smile as I helped him into the bed. Our baby was going to be born via C-section, which was the safest way a shifter could be born today. It wouldn't be fun for Kade, but it wouldn't be as nerve-wracking as birth. However, it did come with its own set of complications, so I wouldn't be able to relax until my whole family was safe.
My family. My heart fluttered a little when I thought about it.
Kade lay back on the bed, exhausted and ready to just let the doctor and nurses do whatever mysterious things they were going to do. They pulled up a chair for me and I sat down next to him as they installed a screen around his chest, so we wouldn't be able to see what they were doing.
The nurses scurried around him and an anesthesiologist poked at him with various needles in various places. Supplies were put in place and clean tools were removed from their cases. These professionals absolutely knew what they were doing.
"You're going to feel a pressure on your chest," said the anesthesiologist. "So don't worry about that. You might also feel some discomfort during the surgery, but it should not be painful."
"Got it," said Kade weakly, though he squeezed my hand with strength that I didn't know he had.
He closed his eyes and tried to relax; I could tell he was doing the same meditation thing he did before all his performances. He was breathing deep, in and out, trying to relax his body and lower his heart rate.