The King(220)

“Wrath, that’s not appropriate. Especially considering there’s nothing wrong.” He felt her playing with his hair. “Is this about that civilian? Who lost his wife and baby?”

“It wasn’t during childbirth.”

“Oh. I thought that—”

“Maybe we could just call her.”

“There’s no reason to.”

“What’s her number?” He reached for his phone. “I’m calling her.”

“Wrath, have you lost your mind?”

Fuck it, he’d just do 411.

Beth kept talking at him as he waited for the operator to come on. “Yeah, hi, in Caldwell, New York. The number of Dr. Sam—what’s her last name?”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“I’m going to pay for the visit—no, not you, Operator.” As the last name came back to him, he said it and spelled it twice. “Yeah, connect me to the office, thanks.”

“Wrath, this is—”

Just as the call went through, Beth went quiet. “Beth?” he asked with a frown.

“Sorry,” she said. “My back let out a twinge. You know what? I’m wearing running shoes next time I go walking like that. Now will you hang up and—”

“Yeah, hi, this is a medical emergency. I need Dr. Sam to come to our home, my wife’s a patient of hers … thirty-six weeks … Symptoms? My wife’s pregnant, how much time have you got?”

“Wrath?” Beth said in a small voice.

“What do you mean, you can’t—”

“Wrath.”

And that was when he shut up … and knew his mother had been right. Cranking his head toward his wife, he said with dread, “What?”

“I’m bleeding.”

The definition of terror changed when things weren’t just about you. And nothing was less about yourself than when you were thirty-six weeks pregnant, you felt a welling between your legs … and it was not your water breaking.

At first, Beth thought she’d lost control of her bladder, but as she moved the blankets aside and shifted positions, she saw something on the sheets.

She’d never seen blood so bright before.

And shit, her lower back was suddenly killing her.

“What’s going on?” Wrath demanded.

“I’m bleeding,” she repeated.

Things happened so fast at that point. It was almost like being in the back of a speeding car, everything whirring by too quick to catch: Wrath shouting into the phone, another call being made, Doc Jane and V arriving at a dead run. And then faster still, moving, moving, moving, everyone around her, while she felt curiously still and muffled.

When she was transferred onto the gurney, she looked over at where she’d been on the bed and shuddered at the neon stain. It was huge, like someone had poured out a gallon of paint underneath her.

“Is the baby going to be okay?” she mumbled, some kind of shock taking over everything. “Is he—is Wrath going to be all right?”

People offered her compassion, but no real answers.

But Wrath, the big one, was right by her side, holding her hand, orienting himself with the help of the side of the gurney.

John appeared as they hit the second-story landing. He was wearing only boxers, his hair all messed up, his eyes alert. He took her other palm.

She didn’t remember much about the rush, rush, rush down into the tunnel—except for the fact that the pain was getting severe. Oh, and the ceiling lights were whipping by as she lay back, the rhythmic pulsing like she was in a Star Wars movie about to go into warp speed.

Why couldn’t she hear anything?

As she looked at the people around her, their mouths were all going, their eyes meeting urgently over her.

“Is little Wrath going to be all right?” Even her own voice was on a fader, the volume turned way down. She tried to make it louder. “Is he going to be all right?”

And then they were dusting past the usual entrance into the training center, and going farther down—to an emergency door that had been created just for her, just for this situation.

Except this was not her birth plan. She was supposed to go into the human world, where there were people to take care of her and little Wrath, see to any problems he might have, be there for her and iAm if it was daylight, and big Wrath and John if it was night.

Little Wrath, she thought.

Guessed she’d just named their son.

As she arrived in the clinic, she just kept thinking she was not supposed to be here. Especially as she looked up at that massive operating chandelier in the main OR.

For some reason, she thought of all the times she had been down here, supporting a Brother injured in the field, or going to a checkup with Layla, or—