The King(197)
iAm had said he was going to take care of any fallout, though, she reminded herself. And she could guess how he was going to do that.
“Yes, of course. Which arm do you want?”
“Let me take a look at your veins.”
Five minutes, one alcohol pad, two sticks, and three filled vials later, she and iAm were alone again.
For a while.
“Does it always take this long?” he asked. “With humans?”
“I don’t know. I was never sick, and I sure as hell never wondered if I was pregnant before.”
The Shadow rearranged himself in his chair again. “You want to call Wrath?”
She took out her phone. “I’m not getting a signal. How ’bout you?”
He checked his. “Nope.”
Made sense. They were in one of St. Francis Hospital’s newer buildings, a twelve- or fifteen-story-high steel-and-glass number—and they were only on the second floor. In the middle.
Not a window in sight.
God, she wished Wrath were here—
The door swung open, and later … much later … she would recall the first thing that struck her:
I like this woman.
Dr. Sam was five feet tall, fifty years old … and all about her patient. “Hi. I’m Sam, and I’m sorry you’ve had to wait.”
Shifting the folder she was carrying to her opposite arm, she put her hand out and smiled, flashing pretty white teeth and a face that had aged well naturally. Her short blond hair was a good dye job, and she had some nice gold bangles and a diamond ring on her left hand. “You must be Beth. Manny’s an old friend of mine. I used to do ob-gyn consults for him in the ER from time to time.”
For absolutely no good reason, Beth felt an absurd urge to cry—and tamped it right down. “I’m Beth. Marklon.”
“And you are?” she said to iAm, also offering her hand.
“A friend.”
“My husband can’t be here,” Beth said as those two shook.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“He’s … not going to be able to be at the appointments.”
Dr. Sam propped a hip on the exam table. “Is he in the military?”
“Ah…” She glanced at iAm. “Actually, yes.”
“Thank him for his service for me, will you?”
God, she hated lying. “I will.”
“Okay, so let’s get down to business.” She opened the folder. “Have you been taking prenatal vitamins?”
“No.”
“That’s going to be first on our list.” Dr. Sam glanced up. “I’ve got some good organic ones that won’t make you sick—”
“Wait, so am I pregnant?”
The doctor frowned. “I—I’m sorry. I thought this was your ultrasound checkup?”
“No, I came in to find out whether I have a stomach flu or if I’m … you know.”
The doctor pulled the chair the nurse had sat in up really close. Then she put her hand over Beth’s. “You’re very definitely pregnant. And you have been for a while. That’s why we need to get you on those prenatals right away—as well as try to put some weight on you.”
Beth felt the blood drain out of her head. “I—that’s not possible.”
“Going by your HCG results, I’d say you’re into your second trimester—although, of course, levels vary significantly. But right now you’re over one hundred thousand. So as I said, I’m hoping you’ll let me do an ultrasound so we can see what’s going on.”
“I … I … I … I…”
“Yeah, she’d like that,” iAm said remotely. “Can you do it now?”
“I … I…”
“Yup, right now.” Dr. Sam didn’t move, though. “But let’s make sure Beth’s on board. Would you like some time with your friend?”
“I can’t be four months. You don’t understand … it’s not possible.”
Maybe this was a vampire thing, she thought. Like, the reading was wonky because she was a—
“Well, again, HCG levels are really only an indication in the very beginning—and solely in relation to how much they’re increasing.” The doctor stood up and opened a drawer, taking out a little boxy device that had a sensor attached to it by a thick wire. “May I check for a heartbeat?”
“It’s not possible,” Beth heard herself say. “It’s just not.”
“Will you let me see if there’s a heartbeat?”
Beth collapsed back onto the table and felt the doctor put something the size of a thumbprint on her stomach—
A tiny little rhythm sounded out. “Yup, we have a heartbeat. Nice and strong. One forty is what we like to see, and you’ve got it down pat.”