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“Jesus,” I muttered.
Unwilling to release the hand I was holding for the first time, I weakly rolled toward her. I held a trembling finger to her neck and damn near shattered when I couldn’t feel a pulse. I continued my way up, and a sob broke free when a barely there puff of breath escaped her nose.
“Jasmine,” I said in relief as I cradled her cheek, reveling in the softness of her skin and my ability to freely touch her. Still clasping her fingers with one hand and cradling her cheek and neck with the other, I rested my head on her shoulder.
Time slipped away as I breathed her in, and tears fell from under my lids to drip on her shirt. Silently, I cried, unsure if they were happy tears or terrified ones.
When soft fingers sifted through my hair, I raised my head to stare into the golden gaze of the woman I loved. Tears freely rolled as I laughed and she smiled.
“It worked,” she whispered.
I nodded. “Yeah baby, it sure did.”
The words had no sooner left my lips than her face contorted in agony. Weakly, I pushed up to frantically search for a source to her pain.
“Nico!” she cried as her body tried to curl up from the mat. A feral scream was ripped from her lips, and anxiety seared through me, robbing me of breath.
My hands trailed over her body, searching for something, anything to tell me what to do. For the first time since my initial vision at sixteen, I wished I could see what was wrong through my touch.
“Fuck,” I cried. “Help! Voodoo! Ghost! Someone!”
It seemed like a lifetime before the door slammed open, followed by the icy wind that shrieked outside. Snow blew in, and the door slammed shut. Afraid to look away from Jasmine, I heard the footsteps near.
“Ahhh, it’s time,” Madame Laveaux said in a matter-of-fact voice, and I peeled my eyes from Jasmine’s contorted face to the serene one of Voodoo’s grandmother. She barked orders, and Voodoo gathered items and set them next to Jasmine. I heard him on his phone before he ended the call and slipped it in his pocket.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a panic.
“What’s does it look like, young Nico? I’m going to deliver abebé.” She gave me a bright smile, and I nearly hyperventilated.
“No, we need to get her to the hospital,” I argued, cursing my continued weakness.
“Chains,” Voodoo barked. “We won’t make it. The blizzard has created near white-out conditions. The path from the clubhouse to here is barely passable on foot, let alone the roads.”
Jasmine began to relax, but her brow was beaded in sweat. Wild eyes found mine and she whimpered, “I’m scared.”
“Shh,” Madame Laveaux soothed as she gripped Jasmine’s free hand in hers. “You listen to me. Madame Laveaux has delivered more babies in the swamps than there are gators.”
Voodoo chuckled. “That might be a bit of an exaggeration,” he mumbled, and she flashed him a glare that only had him laughing harder.
“Ogun,” she snapped. “The people of the swamps have come to me for more of their needs than you could fathom. I’ve delivered many abebéwithout issue. So you keep that laughing trap shut and do as I say.”
The cajun in her tone grew heavier the more she berated her grandson, but at her declaration, some of my fear subsided. Some, certainly not all. With great effort, I rose to kneel next to Jasmine.
Cold burst into the room when the door flew open again. “Shut the damn door!” Madame Laveaux snapped.
My fear nearly dissipated when I heard Angel’s voice from behind me. “Damn, it’s insane out there right now!”
He shed his outerwear and took over for Voodoo on Jasmine’s other side. Besides his abilities to heal, he’d been a medic in the army. Whether or not he’d helped birth any babies, I had no clue, but I was glad he was there.
“I got here as fast as I could, sis,” he said and gave Jasmine a grin.
When she returned it, my heart soared. Then she looked to me, and a tear escaped from the corner of her eye. “Our baby is coming,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” The ridiculous grin wouldn’t leave my face as I held her hand in wonder. Both from the ability to actually hold her hand skin-to-skin and the pending arrival of our child.
The two of us had opted to wait to see the sex of the baby. She wanted to be surprised. She had also laughed at me when I insisted it was a boy. I was sure it was, though I hadn’t touched her to find out.
“Not long now, Jazzy,” Angel reassured her.
