Page 73 of Warrior's Captive
She opened her eyes, took in Tai’ri’s still, battered form, then imagined him whole, healthy. Imagined her marks flowing into him, repairing damaged tissue. Imagined her strength as a glowing rivulet between them, and pushed it into him.
Vivian grit her teeth. It was . . . hard. Spikes behind her eyes warned her of the very real physical consequences of doing whatever she was doing. Spikes that became pics. Her heart rate increased her breath coming faster as if she’d been running a hundred-yard sprint. While pregnant. Her throat burned, dry.
“It’s working,” she heard from a distance.
She threw herself into the healing, pushing, pushing as if she were trying to push the baby from her womb. And as she directed all her force of will at those thoughts, her womb rippled. A sudden, sharp tightening. She gasped. The tightening released, then grabbed her again. Startled, she cried out, thrown from her concentration.
“That’s enough,” thekhetersaid. “Get her away from him!”
Hands tore her fingers, clenched hard enough around Tai’ri’s she was shocked she hadn’t broken his bones, away, almost dragging her backwards. Vivian gasped again as her womb tightened, and continued in a low, painful undulation. She grunted, almost bending over.
“Fuck,” Banujani swore. “Kheter . . .”
Vivian looked at Tai’ri through the haze of pain. The raw, deep fuchsia purple of his face was fading back into dusky blue. If he was healed then everything was worth it. The baby was full term; if she went into labor now, the baby would be fine.
“He’s healing,” thekhetersaid, then turned, eyes both triumphant and grim.
Another ripple and she couldn’t help the low moan that tore from her lips. Perhaps if she hadn’t been so suddenly tired, she might have been able to handle the pain. But she couldn’t focus, her thoughts and feelings scattered in a dozen different directions.
The lid of the tube was about to close when Tai’ri’s eyes snapped open. His hand smacked against the lid, and it paused, then began to open.
Thekheterwhirled. “No, you can’t move! I need you to lie back down and let the tube do its job.”
He ignored her, gaze fixed on Vivian as his lip curled back in a snarl. He barely waited until the lid was open before throwing his legs to the side of the bed and lurching to his feet.
Completely nude, he stumbled forward. “Vivian,” he said hoarsely. “What?”
She wasn’t afraid of the snarl; she sensed he was acting on instinct. Disoriented, angry, in pain, and trying to decide if she was being threatened.
“You were dying,” she said.
Her knees crumpled a moment later; only Banujani kept her upright, and the woman lifted Vivian into her arms.
“She used the marks,” Tai’ri said, the expression in his eyes terrible. “Damn you all.”
“You can dress us down later,” Banujani said. “Any chance I can talk you back into the tube?”
“No,” Tai’ri said.
Vivian moaned as another wave hit. “Right, we need to get to Maternity,” thekhetersaid. “Now.”
* * *
Vivian woke, a deep ache under her ribs, remembering thekhetersnapping instructions, Tai’ri stumbling at her side. She didn’t think he’d even bothered to grab a sheet or hospital gown to make the trek to the maternity level. The fact that he hadn’t tried to take her from Banujani told Vivian that Tai’ri was still very, very hurt. But he hadn’t left her side, not as the medics worked to pause her labor, the room quiet and grim as everyone worked.
“If we can’t stop the labor,” she’d been told, “then the baby is old enough now that it can be born safely. But hybrids are tricky, and we’d prefer the child stay in utero another few days at least, even two weeks. So don’t worry, just focus on calming your nanos. And your blood pressure. The baby is reacting to your stress.”
Tai’ri had said nothing, standing at her side as he held her hand. Someone, eventually, found him a gown to slip over his shoulders.
Movement drew her attention, and she turned her head. Tai’ri approached with a glass of water in his hand, and settled on her bedside.
She studied his face. Lines bracketed his mouth, and his skin looked delicate. But his color was normal, and his hand steady as he lifted the glass to her lips so she could sip. The tension in her body drained; even through their fledgling bond she felt his strength and health. He was fine now.
“How long have I been asleep?” she asked.
“The day you healed me, plus another two full days. Your body needed to rest.”
The baby stirred as she drank more of the iced water. Stretching, a little kick, and then settling back down.
