“Unpleasant things, from the expression on your face.”
She started to deny it, then realized it was useless. He would know if she was lying. “Not unpleasant,” she said. “Just . . . It doesn’t matter.”
Sitting beside her, he reached for her hand. “Of course it matters. I want no secrets between us.”
“Isn’t that impossible when you can read my mind?”
“Yes, I suppose it is, but I have been making an effort not to intrude on your thoughts. So, tell me, what troubles you?”
“Nothing, really. I was just wishing for things that can’t be.”
“What kinds of things?”
She made a vague gesture with her hand, as if to push them away. “Nothing major, except . . .” She blew out a breath. If he didn’t want any secrets between them, then she would tell him the truth. “I was wishing we could have a baby.”
“Ah.”
“It doesn’t matter, not really,” she said quickly.
But they both knew she was lying.
Elena met Northa in the drawing room the following afternoon. She was relating the conversation she’d had with Drake the previous night when she bolted for the bathroom.
What was the matter with her? This was the third time she had thrown up in the last few weeks. It wasn’t the flu. She couldn’t be pregnant, and she didn’t really feel sick, but if there was nothing wrong with her, why was she throwing up?
“Are you all right?” Northa asked when Elena returned to the drawing room.
“I don’t think so. Is there a doctor here?”
“One of the drones is a doctor.”
“Really?” Elena exclaimed. “How is that even possible? They all look like . . . like, I don’t know.”
“Like zombies,” Northa said.
“Exactly.”
“All the drones have special occupations—doctors and dentists and pediatricians. Once the vampires release them from their spell, the drones become regular people again and don’t remember being enthralled. Are you really sick?”
“I hope not.” Elena didn’t care how skilled the drones might be; she didn’t want any of them examining her.
She said as much to Drake when she saw him that night.
“Why do you need a doctor?” he asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
“I’ve just been feeling kind of. . . I don’t know . . . sick to my stomach lately. But it isn’t the flu. I don’t have a fever or anything.”
“I will take you to Brasov tomorrow evening.”
“Never mind. I feel fine now.”
“Tomorrow evening,” he repeated.
Drake stood at the foot of the bed, watching Elena sleep. Lying there, with her hair spread like black silk across the white satin pillowcase, her dark lashes like fans against her cheeks, she looked like a fairy-tale princess waiting for the prince to awake her with love’s first kiss.
He watched the rise and fall of her chest, listened to the faint whisper of her breathing, the slow, steady beating of her heart. He had rarely known fear, but the thought that she might be ill—perhaps fatally so—filled him with dread. He had never expected to fall in love. Before Elena came into his life, he had resigned himself to marrying a woman of his sire’s choosing, having children, watching them grow to maturity. He had never thought beyond that. And then Elena had wandered into Wolfram Castle and it was as if sunlight had taken residence in the old place. He had basked in her glow, delighted in her innocence, reveled in her love. Even now, it was hard to believe that she wanted him, that she loved him. How would he live without her?
True to his word, Drake took Elena to a doctor in Brasov the next evening. There were several people in the waiting room, but after Drake spoke to the receptionist, Elena was immediately taken into an examination room and handed a white plastic cup.
“For a urine sample,” the nurse explained, and directed her to the nearest restroom.
When Elena returned to the room, the nurse instructed her to undress and put on a paper gown.
A short time later a middle-aged woman with curly brown hair and kind blue eyes entered the room. She introduced herself as Doctor Mary Arcos. She listened to Elena’s heartbeat, took her temperature and her blood pressure, checked her eyes, ears, nose, and throat, drew some blood, and, lastly, did a pelvic exam that Elena found embarrassing and uncomfortable.
“You can sit up now.” The doctor removed her glove and tossed it into the wastepaper can.
“So, is everything all right?”
“You’re very healthy,” the doctor said, smiling. “And very pregnant.”
Elena blinked at the physician. “Excuse me?”
“Pregnant. About twelve weeks.”
“But . . .” Elena shook her head. “That’s impossible.”
“Are you telling me this is a virgin birth?” the doctor asked with a wry grin.
“No, of course not, but . . . that’s . . . Are you sure?”
“Very sure. I hope it’s good news.”
“Oh, yes,” Elena murmured. “The very best news. Thank you so much.”
“You may want to thank your young man,” the doctor said, chuckling. “You may get dressed now. Be sure to start taking prenatal vitamins right away. Get plenty of rest. Try not to do any heavy lifting. And come and see me again in four weeks.”
“Yes, I will. Thank you.”
Smiling, the doctor left the room, closing the door behind her.
Pregnant, Elena thought, removing the paper gown. She placed her hands over her stomach. How could she be pregnant? She recalled Katiya telling her that one of the vampires had impregnated a human and that both the mother and child had died. She shook the thought aside. Just because it had happened to someone else didn’t mean it would happen to her.
She dressed quickly and stepped into her shoes. What would Drake think when she told him? Please, she prayed, please let him be as happy as I am.
Drake was pacing the floor of the waiting room when she entered. He went to her immediately, his dark eyes searching her face. “Are you all right?”
She couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“I’ll tell you outside.” Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much.
Taking her by the hand, he hurried her out the door and around the corner of the building. “All right, what did she say?”
“She said I’m going to have a baby.”