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“What’s going on?” asked Jonathon running into the room. “Danny said he thought you were in labor.”
“No,” I sighed. “Diana just freaked out because the baby kicked me.”
“She said ‘ow’,” Diana defended herself.
Jonathon snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. “The baby is half vampire so his kicks can be rather strong.”
“Right,” Diana shook her head. “I’m an idiot.”
“Since that was a false alarm are you ready for bed?” he asked.
“I guess,” I shrugged. He smiled and gathered me into his arms trying not jostle me. He flew out of the room and up the attic steps and managed not to move me a bit. He laid me down on the bed and covered me with the blanket.
He rubbed my stomach. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired and fat.”
He chuckled. “You’re not fat.”
I pointed to my stomach. “What does this look like Sherlock?”
“You’re pregnant not fat,” he grinned.
“That’s what you think,” I smiled. “Maybe I’m part bear and just stocking up for the winter.”
“Hmm,” his lips quirked at the corners. “I might believe you if it weren’t June. You do eat enough to feed an army or maybe a small country.”
“Hey!” I smacked his arm in jest.
He laughed and climbed in the bed. “Go to sleep, principessa. You need your rest.”
“I’ll try,” I conceded. Sleep was pretty much an impossibility these days. I was too big and my back killed me but finally I managed to shut my eyes and block out the world.
Chapter Thirteen: Pains
Sometime in the night I awoke suddenly and threw up over the side of the bed.
“Principessa,” Jonathon whispered pulling my hair back as I retched. I closed my eyes. The sound of his voice was like a hammer against my sensitive skull. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Shut up,” I moaned climbing out of the bed. He was by my side in an instant, steadying my shaky frame. “I’m fine,” I moaned motioning him away.
“You most definitely are not fine,” he growled, following me closely like a shadow.
“Please, be quiet,” I whined. He didn’t say anything. I waddled into the bathroom with Jonathon’s help and grabbed something to take for my headache chugging down a glass of water. I gripped the sides of the sink.
Jonathon’s hand cupped my waist. “What’s wrong?” He whispered.
“I don’t know. I don’t feel right.” I put a hand to my head.
“What can I do?” he whispered, strained.
“I don’t know,” I moaned. A sudden pain in my stomach had me clenching at my bulge. I looked up at Jonathon panic stricken. “I think something’s wrong with the baby! Call Dr. Crane! Now!” I shouted, completely forgetting about my throbbing head in my panic about the baby.
Jonathon disappeared. I waddled back into his room trying to gather up some things to take to the hospital. I didn’t have much as far as the baby was concerned. I still didn’t quite believe that he would be coming home with me… Then I went into panic mode. I had nothing for the baby! I only had one outfit, no crib, no changing table, no car seat, nothing! I zipped up my overnight bag and decided I had other, more important, things to worry about. Another pain stabbed me in the side and I hissed out a breath. I heard Jonathon muttering into the phone, his back to me. He clicked the phone off.
“Dr. Crane says we have to get to the hospital now,” he said turning around, at the same time that I said, “Oh crap,” and all the color drained from my face.
“No,” he gasped.
