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28
EVERYONE I CONSIDERED a boyfriend or a lover left. I wanted some alone time. But truly alone was too dangerous. Requiem and some bodyguards stayed. I dressed in the bathroom, which seemed stupid since everyone had seen me naked, but I needed some privacy.
While Jean-Claude and Asher were with me, I felt utterly calm about the baby, even happy. Once they were gone the panic set back in. One of them, I wasn't sure which, had used vampire wiles on me. Or maybe, I was just picking up someone's emotions. Hell, I was bound metaphysically to so many different men, it didn't even have to be Jean-Claude's emotions I was picking up. All I knew for certain was that they weren't mine.
I got dressed in the emergency clothes I'd started keeping in Jean-Claude's room. Jeans, black T-shirt, jogging shoes, good leather belt, and enough underwear to go under it all. The belt helped hold my shoulder holster. The familiar tightness of it made me feel better. More secure. The security had little to do with being able to shoot people. Most of the people making my life hard, I loved, and didn't want to shoot. No, the gun was more psychological-better than real-life-better. Guns only work against things you're willing to kill. If you're not willing to kill, then a gun is, in some ways, a false sense of security. The wrist sheaths and silver-edged knives, that was extra security. Short of a heart blow, most of the people in my life would survive a knife. I didn't expect to argue that hard with anybody, but the wrist sheaths helped me feel better. I left the bathroom dressed and armed. Much better.
I added another thing I kept at Jean-Claude's, an extra cross. I got it out of the bedside table. It was cool against my skin, hidden under the shirt.
"I am the only monster in the room that a cross will stop, do you distrust me that much?" Requiem said from the bed.
His comment made me glance at Remus and another new werehyena sitting near the fireplace. "It's nothing personal, Requiem, but I've been visited by Belle and Marmee Noir. The cross helps keep them at bay."
"They are terrible powers."
"Yeah." I rummaged in the overnight bag until I came up with my cell phone, then headed for the bathroom.
"You can talk in front of me, Anita. I will not bear tales."
"You're blood-oathed to Jean-Claude. You'll talk if he wants you to, but frankly, I just want some privacy. Again, nothing personal, Requiem." I sighed, because this kind of shit was one of the reasons I'd been able to keep turning him down as pomme de sang. He was messy, or at least not neat, and I didn't need more emotionally messy men in my life. "Look, this isn't going to work between us if you take everything so damned personally. Fuck buddies don't fret this much, okay."
His face had closed down to that handsome blankness. "Okay," he said, and that one empty word let me know his feelings were hurt. Shit, I did not need this.
I closed the bathroom door, and used my cell phone to call my gynecologist. I'd finally realized that a little piece of plastic wasn't quite good enough. It was ninety-nine percent accurate; for this, I wanted a hundred percent. It took me nearly five minutes to convince the receptionist that I needed to talk to a nurse, or the doctor. The doctor, of course, was with a patient, but five minutes on hold snagged me a nurse.
"What seems to be the problem?" she asked in a voice that was part cheerful and part impatient.
"How accurate are those home pregnancy tests? I mean I know what the box says, but really, how good are they?"
"Very good, very accurate." Her voice had softened a little.
I swallowed hard enough that she probably heard me. "So if one comes back positive, then..."
"Then congratulations," she said.
"But it's not a hundred percent, right?"
"No, but a false positive is very rare, Ms. Blake, very rare."
"Isn't there like a blood test that's a hundred percent accurate?"
"There is a blood test, yes, but normally the doctors trust the home tests, too."
"But if I wanted to schedule a blood test, to be absolutely sure, then I could?"
"Well, yes."
"Today."
"Ms. Blake, if you're that worried, take a second home pregnancy test, but I doubt that the second test will give you a different answer. False negatives, those we see, but false positives are very rare."
"How rare?" I asked.
I heard paper rustling. "When was the date of your last period?"
"First week of September."
"Do you have the exact date?"
"No, I don't." I fought not to sound angry. Who the hell kept track to the day of their period?
"Ms. Blake, Anita, I think we need to schedule you a prenatal visit."
"Prenatal, no, I mean, yes, I mean, oh, hell."
"Anita, I talk to a lot of women. Most of them are happy about the news, but not all of them. You don't sound like this was good news to you."
"It wasn't."
"Dr. North is just coming out, I'll let you talk to him." Silence, then the sounds of movement, cloth rustling, and a man's voice. "Hey, Anita, how's my favorite vampire hunter doing?"
"Not so good today," I said, and my voice sounded small, and hurt.
"I'm sorry about that. We need to schedule you an appointment."
"I don't want to be pregnant."
He was quiet for a moment. "You're not very far along, Anita; you still have options."
"Abortion, you mean?"
"Yes."
"I can't, not unless there's something majorly wrong. I mean, I'll need to be tested for Vlad's syndrome, and Mowgli syndrome."
"I figured the Vlad's syndrome test, but you only need the Mowgli test if you've had sex with a shapeshifter while he's in animal form."
