Lover at Last (Black Dagger Brotherhood #11)(91)
Author: J.R. Ward

The road was the only exit available. Unless the man was willing to risk a pullover by the CPD for going against traffic.

Moments later, the Range Rover passed her by. After allowing it to get slightly ahead, she hit her own gas and slid into position about a block behind.

When Benloise had given her the assignment, he’d provided her with the make and model of the man’s SUV, in addition to that address out on the Hudson. Not the name, though.

All she had was that real estate trust and its single trustee.

As she tracked the threesome, she memorized the license plate. One of her friends down at the police station might be able to help with that; although, given that the house was owned by a legal entity, she surmised he’d done the same with automobile.

Whatever. There was one thing she was sure of.

Wherever he was going next, she was going to be there.

Chapter Forty-six

The shout blasted through the dim bedroom, loud, sharp, unexpected.

As it reverberated in her ears, Layla didn’t immediately know who had woken her up with it. What had –

Glancing down, she knew she was sitting upright, the sheets crushed in her tight hands, her heart pounding, her rib cage pumping.

Looking around, she found that her mouth was wide open…

Closing her jaw, she knew she must have made the sound. There was no one else in the room. And the door was shut.

Lifting her hands, she twisted her wrists so they were palm up, then palm down. The illumination in the room, such as it was, was not coming from her flesh anymore. It was the bathroom light.

Jerking herself to the side, she peered over the edge of the bed.

Payne was no longer lying in a heap. The female must have left – or been carried out?

Her first thought was to go and find Vishous’s sister, just jump up and start searching. Although she hadn’t understood exactly what had transpired between them, there was no doubt that it had cost the fighter dearly.

But Layla stopped herself, as worry for her own well-being took over: Her awareness shifted from the external to the internal, her mind burrowing into her body, searching out and expecting to find the cramping, the warm welling between her legs, the strange lagging aches that rode her bones.

Nothing.

As a room could go silent when all who were within it went quiet, so too could the corporeal form when all its component parts had no complaints.

Shifting the covers from herself, she moved her legs over so that they dangled off the edge of the high mattress. Subconsciously, she braced herself for the god-awful sensation of blood leaving her womb. When there was nothing of the sort, she wondered if the miscarriage hadn’t concluded itself. But hadn’t Havers said that it would be another week?

It took courage to stand up. Even though she supposed that was ridiculous.

Still nothing.

Layla went into the bathroom slowly, expecting at any moment for the onslaught of symptoms to return and take her down to her knees. She waited for the pain to strike, for those rhythmic cramps to come back, for that process to once again establish dominance over her body and her mind.

I don’t know whether it will work, but if you’re willing, I’d like to do what I can.

Layla all but ripped off her clothing, shedding what covered her in a mad dash. And then she was on the toilet.

No bleeding.

No cramps.

Half of her went into a sorrow so deep, she feared there was no bottom to the emotion – in a strange way, during the process of the miscarriage, she’d felt as though she’d still had some kind of connection with her young. If it was over? Then the death was complete – even though logically she knew there was naught that had lived or was capable of survival; otherwise, the pregnancy wouldn’t have terminated itself.

The other half of her was struck by a resonant hope.

What if…

She took a shower quickly, in spite of the fact that she didn’t really know why she was rushing, or where she would go.

Looking down at her stomach, she ran her soapy hands over the smooth, flat stretch of skin.

"Please…anything you want, take anything you want…give me this life inside of me, and you can take anything else…."

She was talking to the Scribe Virgin, of course – not that the race’s mother was listening anymore.

"Give me my young…let me keep it…please…."

The desperation she felt was nearly as bad as the physical stuff had been, and she stumbled out of the shower, drying herself roughly and throwing on clean something-or-others.

From what she’d watched of the television, human women had tests they could take themselves, sticks and whatnot apparently designed to inform them of their body’s procreational mysteries. Vampires had nothing of the sort – at least, not of which she was aware.

But males knew. They always knew.

Bursting out of her room, she hurried in the direction of the hall of statues, praying that she ran into someone, anyone –

Except Qhuinn.

No, she didn’t want him to be the one who figured out whether a miracle had happened…or nothing had changed. That was just too cruel.

The first door she came to was Blaylock’s and she knocked on it after a hesitation. Blay had known about the situation all along. And at his core, he was a very good male, a strong, good male.

When there was no answer, she cursed and turned away. She hadn’t checked the time, but given that the shutters were up and there was no scent of dinner being served down below, it was probably in the middle of the night. No doubt he had gone fighting –

"Layla?"

She wrenched around. Blay was leaning through the doorway of his room, his expression one of surprise.

"I’m so sorry – " As her voice cracked, she had to clear it. "I…I – "

"What’s wrong? Are you – whoa, easy, there. Here, let’s get you to sit down."

As something came up and caught her bottom, she became aware that he’d settled her on the gold-leafed bench just outside his room.

He knelt down in front of her and took her hands. "Can I get Qhuinn for you? I think he’s – "

"Tell me if I’m still pregnant." As his eyes peeled wide, she squeezed his palms. "I need to know. Something…" She wasn’t sure whether Payne wanted her to talk about what had gone on between them. "I just need to know whether it’s over or not. Can you…please, I need to know…."

As she started to babble, he put his hand on her upper arm and stroked it. "Calm down. Just take a deep breath – here, breathe with me. That’s it…okay…"

She did her best to comply, focusing on the steady, even tone of his deep voice.

"I want to call Doc Jane, all right?" When she started to argue, he shook his head firmly. "You stay right here. Promise me that you won’t go anywhere. I’m just going to grab my phone. You stay here."