One hand made lazy circles on my bare belly as the other made faster circles below. I had to admit to myself, if not to him, that I was possibly more turned on than I’d ever been in my life and knew with a beast’s full certainty that all was well, inside and out, and that I would one day hold this man’s child in my arms.
“You’re stronger than you know, Letitia.” He said it softly and reverently, like a blessing, as he kissed down my neck. “You’re a lady and a tiger, powerful and sweet.”
“Yes,” I agreed, feeling it for the first time.
“How does it feel to have your worst fear realized?”
The breath caught in my throat. “It wasn’t.”
He stopped and slipped a hand up to cup my jaw. “I thought becoming a Bludman was your greatest fear.”
I shook my head and caught his finger in my teeth for just a moment. “No. My greatest fear was losing you, that the black-scaled hand I saw next to yours in the glance wasn’t mine. I have everything I need now.”
“Not everything. I can give you, oh, at least two or three more things.” His finger pushed into me with slow surety, making me gasp.
“I believe your record is six,” I said, almost panting.
“Today is probably a good day for beating records.”
His finger curled, and I clutched the sheets, my talons digging in and catching on the crisp fabric. And something occurred to me that I hadn’t thought of in six years of him playing my body like an instrument. “Wait. How are you . . . oh, God . . . doing that to me . . . ooh . . . with claws?”
“A smart man keeps at least one trimmed, if not . . . two?”
I whimpered.
“Funny that you’ve never noticed that before.”
My only response was a shuddering groan as my body arched up off the bed.
He caught my open mouth in a kiss, drawing the climax out until I fell back down, limp and gasping.
“You know,” I said, voice husky, “I’m learning so much about being a Bludman.”
His eyebrow arched up, even cockier with the rakish scar. “Like what, love?”
I reached under the sheets and carefully curled my fingers around him.
“Like how to use my hands, teeth, and tongue to maximize blood flow,” I said.
25
I couldn’t wait to get back to the caravan, back to the place that had become home. In the past week, I’d had more adventure than in the previous five years combined, and I was ready for a good, long run of boredom and contentment.
My pregnancy was normal, from what I’d read. I felt strong and peaceful, and day by day my belly grew bigger and rounder until it looked like I was smuggling a watermelon. On Earth, there would have been visits to the obstetrician and midwives, sonograms, and listening to my baby’s heartbeat on the ultrasound as a nurse squeezed cold gel on my skin. In Sang, there were midwives in cities, to be sure, but I wanted to stay with the caravan.
Without an older Bludwoman among us, I asked Bea most of my questions, as she and Mel wanted to spend a year traveling with us while Blaise began his apprenticeship under Criminy. Jacinda had a book on pregnancy in her small library, and I read it and frowned at all the silly superstitions. Still, when I was near delivery, I insisted that our old costumer’s abandoned cat, Arabella, come to stay in the wagon with Criminy and me. The way she curled around my belly to sleep was calming, and in both worlds, the old wives’ tales said that having a cat around cut the pain of childbirth, which I dreaded. Bea just laughed and told me that nothing could cut the pain of childbirth, which didn’t help.
I had always assumed I was an epidural kind of girl. And in Sang, there were no epidurals.
My water broke just outside of Liverpool, a soft and velvety pop that made me sit up straight in bed. Criminy woke by my side, claws bared and ready to murder whatever monsters might be attacking us. The poor man would have vastly preferred to fight off velociraptors with swords rather than spend hours enduring my occasional groans and grunts. Childbirth was a lonely struggle, and despite being surrounded by the people I now considered family, it was a battle that every woman fought alone. Bea and Mel bracketed me like colorful bookends as I spent the day walking circles around the caravan wagons, complaining and sipping blood and dripping as the baby churned within me. Criminy walked a good bit behind us, taking his anxiety out on the bludbunnies attracted by my scent. Twice he had to take a sack of furry carcasses back to the cook wagon, each time terrified that I would somehow explode while he was gone.
At sunset, just as the buses were rolling toward the caravan, something changed. It felt as if the baby had dropped a foot, and I crossed my legs, overcome with urgency. Bea and Mel assured me this was normal and hurried me back to my wagon, where the bed was covered with an old tent, with hot water and a pile of rags waiting nearby. I knew enough about labor to know that getting onto my back was the most unnatural position, so I ended up bent over the bed, overtaken by waves of pain and pressure as Crim rubbed my back.