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"In the garbage. The outside garbage. Please."
"We're going into town for ice cream," Clay said. "Wanna come?"
Jeremy shook his head. "You two go on. But I wouldn't mind you picking up a few steaks at the butcher. I thought we'd have a barbecue. And since Clay seems so energetic, maybe I can persuade him to cart out the lawn furniture and we'll eat outside tonight."
"Let's do that now," I said, swinging toward the shed.
"Build up an appetite for those banana splits."
Clay caught my arm. "No lifting, remember?"
"That's after I get pregnant."
"But you could be pregnant already, right? We have to be
careful."
I looked over at Jeremy, but he busied himself unloading his revolvers. I was reasonably sure you couldn't damage a fetus the size of a pea by lifting a lounge chair or two, especially not when werewolf strength made it the equivalent of picking up a plate, but if Jeremy wasn't going to back me up on this, I wouldn't argue with Clay. I was sure we'd have plenty of things to argue about if--no, when--I did get pregnant.
When it came to my health, Clay wasn't the only one overreacting. In the last six months, Jeremy had read just about every book ever written on pregnancy, and erred so far on the side of caution that, between the two of them, I'm surprised I was allowed to get up in the morning. The truth was that, no matter how many books Jeremy read, he couldn't be sure they applied to me at all. Female werewolves were very rare. For one to bear a child, even to a human father, was the thing of legend. Two werewolves reproducing? There was no record of it ever having happened. Maybe that's because it couldn't happen. Maybe all of our planning and dreaming--
"Come on," Clay said. "You can grab the lanterns. Race you there."
I looked at him and I knew he'd seen that look in my eyes, the dark shadow of panic that seemed to come over me several times a day now.
"No," Jeremy said. "You go. I need to talk to Elena."
As Clay headed for the shed, I wandered over to Jeremy and reached for the newly-emptied revolver on the wall. He slid it out of my hand's path and put it into its case.
I sighed. "It wasn't loaded."
"I'm not taking any chances."
I sighed again and leaned against the wall. Jeremy glanced over at Clay, who was moving away at one tenth his earlier speed. When Jeremy asked how I was feeling, Clay picked up his pace, curiosity fading. I said I was fine, then he asked, "Have you been taking the new vitamins?"
I gave him a look. He lifted a finger, then darted his gaze in Clay's direction, telling me to play along.
"Yes, I've been taking the new vitamins and, no, they don't seem to be upsetting my stomach like the last concoction. Next time, though, as long as you're mixing up a batch, think maybe you could add in some cherry flavor? Maybe mold them into little animals for me? Bunnies would be good. I like bunnies."
Clay's chuckle floated back to us, and he quickened his pace to a fast walk. Jeremy glanced over his shoulder, estimating werewolf hearing distance, then lowered his voice.
"Paige called while you were out," he said.
Clay stopped and wheeled. Jeremy grimaced.
"You tried," I murmered. "Does she want me to call her back?"
"No, actually she was just relaying a message. Someone's been trying to reach you. Xavier Reese."
"Reese?" Clay said, striding back now. "The guy from the compound?"
"That's the only Xavier I know."
"What the hell does he want?"
I had my suspicions "Did he leave a number with Paige?"
"You're not going to call him back, are you?" Clay said. "After what he--"
