Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, Book 14. Danse Macabre(63)
Richard's face showed the shock now. He gaped at me, and whispered, «Pregnant.»
I said the only thing that came to mind. «Fuck.»
15
I SLAMMED EVERY shield I had in place, shut, tight, metal, closed. I thought metal, smooth and thick and impenetrable. I stared at the floor, afraid to meet anyone's eyes. Afraid of what I'd see in their faces, or what I wouldn't.
«Anita,» Richard said, and his hand reached for me.
I stepped out of reach. I was shaking my head. I didn't know what I wanted out of this moment, didn't know what reaction would please me, and which one would piss me off. I'd hoped to keep it secret until I knew for sure. I did not want to open this can of emotional worms until it was a done deal.
It was Samuel who broke the silence. «Congratulations to both of you. A baby, joyous news indeed.»
I turned slowly to look at him, because of anyone in the room I cared least what he thought about the news. Him, I could look at. Him, I could be angry with.
Sampson was already touching his father's shoulder. «Father, I think we should leave now.»
Samuel was looking from his son, to me, to Jean-Claude, to most of the people around the room. He looked utterly confused. «But this is wonderful news, and you're all acting as if someone has died.»
«Father,» Sampson said, soft and warningly. He was looking at my face, and whatever he saw there made him grab his father's elbow and try to get him on his feet.
He stared at his son's hand until Sampson let it drop away. Samuel then met my gaze. His eyes didn't look friendly now. They looked older, full of some deep knowledge, and sad around the edges, and angry. «Why such anger, Anita?»
I started to count to twenty, knew it wouldn't be enough, and just said it, in a voice that was choking with anger, confusion. «Don't tell me how to feel, Samuel, you don't have that right.»
He stood up, and pushed his son's hands away from him. «Think how powerful a child you and Jean-Claude could have.»
«There's no guarantee it's his,» I said.
«The odds are that if you are pregnant, it won't be any of the vampires,» Richard said. His voice was low and careful, but there was something underneath all that that I hadn't wanted to hear — eagerness.
I turned to him, and I don't know what I would have said, or even done, because Jean-Claude was just suddenly there between us. «Do not do anything rash, ma petite.»
«Rash, don't do anything rash!» I pulled away from him. «He's not unhappy about this and you're locked down so tight I don't know what you're feeling.»
«I feel that anything I say, or do, in this moment, will upset you.» It was the most diplomatic way I'd ever been told that I was a pain in the ass.
I fought the urge to scream at him. I managed a voice that was strangled low and tense with the effort not to yell. «Say something,» I said.
«Are you with child?» he asked in that neutral, pleasant voice of his.
«I don't know, but I missed October.»
Richard came closer and he tried for neutral, failed, but he tried. «Have you ever missed a whole month before?»
I shook my head. «No.»
Emotions fought on his face, and finally he had to turn away, as if whatever expression he had, he was sure I wouldn't want to see it.
«Don't you dare be happy about this, damn it!»
He turned back, face mostly under control, but his eyes held that look. That soft I-love-you look that once was meant just for me, but which lately I hadn't seen much of. I'd seen lust, but not this.
«Would you prefer me to be angry, or sad?» he asked.
«No, yes, I don't know.» There, that was the truth. «I don't know.»
«I'm sorry,» he said, and he looked it around the edges. «Sorry if I'm making this harder, but how could I be completely unhappy if we made a child together?»
He would pick the very worst way to say it. The way most guaranteed to panic me. «It's not a child, yet. It's a bunch of cells smaller than my thumb.»
His eyes got more careful. «What are you saying, Anita?»
I hugged myself tight and wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. «I don't know what I'm saying.» But I was beginning to have more sympathy with Ronnie's idea about just going away and making the choice without any of the men.
«Would you really be able to kill our baby?» he asked, and I didn't have to see his face to know he looked hurt; I could hear it in his voice.
«Mon ami, you put the cart before the horse. Let her find out if she is pregnant before we make plans.» Jean-Claude tried to move between us again, tried to block my view of Richard, as if that would help.