TALON (RIBUS 7 Book 4) Read online

Page 7


  Chelan threw him a dark look. “And now, you lie.”

  Talon frowned. “Believe as you wish, little one. What happened next?”

  Chelan went to speak, but the next contraction slammed her. She writhed in pain and rolled onto her side.

  Lakit continued to monitor her and waited for the pain to pass.

  Chelan endeavored to catch her breath. Then she looked back up at Talon. “He threatened to keep Korba away indefinitely if I did not comply. Then, as his assurance, he slipped me some of the Letting drug.”

  Talon sat back on his heels and looked up at the ceiling. Then he studied her. “But you said you did not know if Ticees succeeded. Why?”

  “The drug clouded my senses. I did not know if he finished what he intended to do, but I assumed he had succeeded. So, to be safe, I headed to the Dead Zone to end my life and spare Korba from challenging.”

  Lakit finally spoke. “So, was the baby Ticees’?”

  “No,” she sighed. “It belonged to a warrior I met in the caverns where I hid. But he returned to the Empire before he knew of the baby.”

  Talon’s voice was soft. “How long were you alone?”

  Chelan tried to remember. “Over two Iceanean years.”

  Talon was rendered mute. Lakit patted her shoulder, drawing her attention back to him. “Tell me about the birth.”

  Chelan swallowed. “Oh, no!” she cried. Lakit’s hands smoothed over her belly, helping her to work through the next contraction. When the pain had subsided, she stared blankly into space. “I am so cold,” she whispered.

  Talon lurched into motion and tore his shroud from his shoulders. He wrapped her tightly in it, leaving only her belly exposed so that Lakit could tend her.

  Chelan temporarily forgot her predicament, Talon’s simple act of comfort confusing her. Their eyes met.

  “Chelan,” called Lakit, rousing her from her thoughts. “The baby?”

  Chelan nodded at him. “The baby was too big.”

  “But you birthed it?”

  Chelan nodded again. “Yes. But it took too long.”

  “How long was the labor?”

  Chelan thought. “At least thirty Iceanean hours.”

  Lakit furrowed his brows. “And you were unattended the whole time?”

  “Yes,” she replied weakly.

  “You are lucky you lived.”

  Chelan shook her head. “I hemorrhaged, but Shan, the warrior, had finally told Korba of me. It was by chance that they arrived in time.”

  Lakit could hardly believe what he was hearing. For a woman her size to birth an Iceanean baby at all, let alone by herself, was astonishing. “How far along were you?”

  “About eight Earth months, I think.”

  “Did you see the baby?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it finely formed?”

  Chelan felt her eyes sting. “He was perfect,” she whimpered. Then she gasped. “Oh, god…”

  Lakit shifted slightly. “Tell me what you are feeling.”

  “My cervix—it feels like it is splitting.”

  Lakit smiled. “That is okay. You are dilating. Keep breathing, and tell me as soon as the pain passes.”

  Chelan nodded and rubbed at her hard belly. When the pain lessened, she nodded to him.

  “Okay, Chelan,” Lakit said, “we are going to move you.”

  Chelan quailed. “I don’t think I can walk.”

  Talon chuckled. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.” And the massive man stood. He stooped down and ever so gently lifted her in his arms, his motion effortless. Then he walked quickly with her to the bath area. There he sat her softly on the floor. Shortly afterward, Lakit entered with another man.

  Chelan eyed the new man warily. Lakit crouched beside her and discarded his shroud. “Don’t worry. This is Ven. He will remain outside just in case I need his help. He is also a doctor.”

  Ven nodded to her and then left. She looked around. “Why are we here?”

  Lakit replaced the monitor. “Because it is quieter than in sickbay, and because we need the tub.”

  Chelan’s eyes darted about. “Why the tub?” she asked anxiously.

  “You will birth the baby there.”

  Chelan tried to stand, but Lakit pressed her down. “I don’t trust a water birth!” she cried.

  Lakit smiled. “The baby will not breathe until it is out of the water. Everything will be fine.”

  “But why?”

  “Because the warmth soothes, the buoyancy comforts, and the water pressure aids the birth.” Lakit continued. “It supports you, and it will soak your tissues. I am assuming you tore with Shan’s child?”

  Chelan nodded. “Badly,” she added.

  “The water will soften your skin. You will stretch more easily. Hopefully, we can keep the tearing to a minimum without requiring my intervention.”

  Chelan nodded again.

  Lakit moved back from her slightly. “Chelan, I am going to examine you internally before we put you in, if you permit.”

  Chelan’s throat went dry, but she was in no position to protest. “Okay,” she whispered.

  She watched as he took off one of his ebony gloves. Panic invaded her, and she sought to ease herself. “I thought you people never took those damn things off,” she croaked.

  Both men chuckled. “Normally, I might not,” Lakit said. “They do not impede my touch, but it is for your comfort.”

  “Comfort is a relative term,” she blurted, and she gasped as the next contraction seized her.

  Lakit waited patiently for the pain to pass and then eased her onto her back. He smiled. “Relax if you can.”

  Chelan watched as Talon sat down next to her. He lifted her head as he slid in under her, allowing her head to rest on his lap. She looked up into his eyes and tried to focus on him, his aura of calm suddenly comforting. Then she sucked in air and grabbed onto the Warlord’s arm as she felt Lakit insert his fingers.

  Talon’s heart stopped momentarily, the unprecedented fear that glazed her pretty eyes taking him by surprise. “You will be okay,” he whispered. But he saw her tears well. “Is he hurting you?”

  Chelan closed her eyes. “No,” she breathed. “You wouldn’t understand.” Then she dared to relax just a bit as she felt the doctor’s fingers leave her. She released her death grip on Talon’s arm.

  Lakit spoke. “You are doing fine, Chelan. You are at about four centimeters. Your membranes are intact for the time being. Now, we will put you in the tub.”

  Chelan felt Talon’s powerful arms lift her once again. He set her on her feet and supported her while Lakit stripped her of the shroud and her shirt. Then the Warlord picked her up and lowered her into the spa. Chelan shivered but was relieved by the lukewarm water.

  Lakit removed his other glove and then knelt by the side of the tub. “How does that feel?”

  Chelan smiled at last. “Wonderful,” she admitted. Then her eyes darted to Talon, and she watched in abject horror as he began to strip himself of his ebony uniform. Slowly, his flawless bronze body emerged from the form-fitting garment. Her mouth dried. He was Korba inch for inch, his hard body exemplifying the fighting machine he was.

  He turned his back to her, and she watched as he stepped into the shower. The water cascaded over his powerful rippling muscles, his blue-black hair flowing down to the middle of his back. Then he began to wash himself, tending carefully to every part.

  Chelan frowned, wondering why the man would choose to take a shower now, but her thoughts fragmented as she was taken again by another contraction. She closed her eyes against the pain.

  “Breathe,” Lakit ordered. “You must breathe, Chelan. The baby needs oxygen.”

  She nodded and tried to catch her breath. The pain began to pass, and she opened her eyes, searching for Talon, but he was gone from the shower. Then she jumped. Every muscle she possessed went rigid as she felt him step into the tub behind her, his arms slipping about her, his strong hands moving to h
er abdomen.

  She could barely catch her breath, and she looked wide-eyed at Lakit. The doctor smiled. “He rinsed off so as not to contaminate the waters. Now, let Talon be your support. It relieves you of any energy you may expend trying to steady yourself. Let him help you.”

  Chelan tried to calm down, but her heart pounded. There she was, suddenly dependent on the very man she hated most, yet there was nothing she could do. And worst of all, in her present condition, she realized, she needed him. She closed her eyes as she felt his hands move over her flesh, his soft touch easing her physical agony despite all her reservations.

  During a brief reprieve from her pain, Chelan scoured her thoughts for answers. Why should he help her? Why would he even be here? Before today, he had done nothing but handle her roughly and verbally abuse her. Now, he had been transformed into a being of apparent concern and gentleness? Nothing was making any sense.

  She flinched, her muscles still tight. She was not sure she liked the nakedness she felt beneath her, and she tried to straighten away from him, but his hand moved to her shoulder, pressing her back into his chest. Try as she might, she had no choice but to meld into him.

  Suddenly, she choked, and her tears ran freely. He felt so much like her other beloved men—his size, his strength, even his scent. But she did not have time to wallow in her unexpected sorrow as the next powerful contraction hit.

  Chelan cried out and arched back, burying her face in Talon’s neck. “It hurts!” she wailed. Her hands reached for the sides of the tub, but Talon took them in his and held them tightly. Chelan panted for air. “I can’t take much more of this!”

  “Shhh,” came Talon’s soft voice. He held her hands across her breasts with one of his. With the other, he cleared her hair away from her perspiring face. Then he trickled water over her cheeks and neck, gently cooling her.

  Chelan looked up at him in disbelief. With his soothing voice and his warm eyes, he suddenly became her loving mate, and all her tension drained away.

  Lakit looked at Talon, and the Commander nodded to him in recognition of what had just taken place. She had accepted him for the time being, her acquiescence making it easier on them all during this critical time.

  Talon continued to stroke her face and neck. His original intent had been simply to assist Lakit. But the little alien’s unconditional acceptance of his presence and of his offer of comfort unexpectedly tugged at him. He looked down at her. She appeared almost asleep, her soft skin pressed into his hard chest. His hand still held hers, her slender fingers dwarfed by his. He glanced at her swollen breasts as they rose and fell deeply, and suddenly, it was he who tensed. But he was disciplined, and he tossed the unbidden feeling away as far as he could. Then her fingers tightened about his, and instantly, he realized that he had not been able to toss his feelings very far.

  Time passed, and Chelan’s contractions came faster and harder, each just that much more vicious than the last. Through it all, Talon held her, whispering in her ear and coaching her in tandem with Lakit. But as the hours passed, Talon was becoming concerned. He had seen many babies born to his women. He had never seen a woman so small endure so much for so long. And for reasons he could not pinpoint, it stabbed at his heart.

  Finally, Lakit looked up into her exhausted face. “Chelan, I am going to check you again.”

  Chelan nodded once and pressed feebly into the protectiveness of Talon’s chest. His arms surrounded her snuggly, and he leaned his head on hers. She shuddered briefly as Lakit entered her, but then she submitted, her body too spent to fight.

  Lakit lingered within her, his expert fingers telling him all he needed to know. Then he gently removed them. “Chelan,” he called, “I have to rupture the membranes. You are fully dilated, and the sac is bulging, but it isn’t breaking. I don’t want this stage to drag on. You are too weak.”

  Chelan licked her lips but did not respond. Talon nodded to him. Then the Warlord raised his legs up between hers, splitting her wide. He elevated her body slightly, but she did not protest. Lakit reached for a metal instrument with a blunt hook at the end. Slowly, he guided it into the exhausted woman and broke her waters.

  Chelan’s eyes flew open, and she screamed with agony. The next contraction was immediate and far outweighed all that had gone before.

  “Breathe, Chelan,” Lakit ordered. “Just through this one, and then we can push.”

  She writhed in Talon’s arms and tried to twist, but he restrained her. “Shhh,” he whispered. “It is just about over.”

  Chelan still struggled, but he held her firmly, keeping her legs wide open. Then he reached for her forehead and pressed her head back against his chest. “It is going to be okay,” he cooed, his voice deep and tranquil.

  Lakit put a hand on her belly. “Okay, Chelan. On the next contraction, take one deep breath, and then push.”

  Chelan shook her head. “I can’t do this,” she whimpered in exhaustion. Then the next one steamrolled over her, and she twisted hard in Talon’s arms, entangling her fingers in his hair.

  The Warlord held her arms, her muscles so rock-like they rivaled his. He looked down into her stricken face, her features contorted by pain and desperation. His eyes flew to Lakit’s. “Do something!” he ordered harshly.

  Lakit was shaken by the intensity in Talon’s voice. “I am, my Lord. But she is small and the child large. I cannot drug her. She must try first—”

  Talon reached forward with lightning speed, hooking Lakit about the neck. His eyes burned into the doctor. “You have to help her…” His words trailed off, his own outburst taking him by surprise. “Just get the damn baby out,” he snarled.

  “But my Lord—if she cannot do it on her own time, you force me to cut her.”

  Talon’s words lodged in his throat. He went to say, “Then so be it,” but he could not. He didn’t want her in so much pain, but he didn’t want her marred either. He shook his head, trying to clear his muddled thoughts, his long hair flying. Then he looked back down at her and subconsciously began rocking her. “Come on, Chelan. You have to try.”

  Chelan heard a familiar voice soak into her thoughts. She had to save the baby, and she nodded.

  Lakit relaxed visibly. “Okay, Chelan, here it comes. Push hard.”

  Talon elevated her, and she took a deep breath. Then, with all that she had left in her, she bore down.

  Lakit watched the monitor closely. “Okay, one more breath and push.”

  Chelan obeyed for as long as she could and then thudded back against Talon.

  The Commander held her tightly as Lakit checked her again, but this time, the doctor did not remove his fingers. “Okay, push!” he ordered.

  Chelan gritted her teeth and bore down once again with all her strength.

  Lakit looked up at Talon. “It is going to be tight, if at all, my Lord.”

  Chelan collapsed back, and Lakit studied the monitor. “The baby is fine, Chelan. Keep up the good work.”

  Chelan nodded and gasped for air.

  Lakit looked at her. “Ready, push!”

  Chelan hunched forward again, but this time she felt her flesh burn. “Help me!”

  Lakit set his jaw. “Push!” he yelled.

  Chelan cried. “I am tearing!”

  Talon’s eyes seared into the doctor’s. “Help her!” he yelled. “She need not feel her flesh split!”

  Lakit reached behind him and quickly came up with a syringe. He slipped his fingers into her, shielding the baby’s head. Then he injected the powerful anesthetic into her peritoneum.

  Chelan instantly relaxed.

  Talon took a deep breath and tried to relieve the tension throughout his body.

  Lakit felt like he was going to collapse. This was indeed like no other birth he had attended, and he did not want to go through it ever again. He could only wonder how the little alien felt.

  Chelan’s eyes began to close. “I am too tired.”

  Talon dribbled some water over her face. “You can sleep soon
, little one. You are so close. Stay with us but a little longer.”

  Lakit nodded and smiled. “Talon is right. You have done it, Chelan. Just one more push.”

  Chelan straightened herself slightly, her vision blurring. Then the next wave hit, and she pushed hard.

  Lakit braced himself. “Keep going, Chelan—don’t stop!”

  Chelan thought her head was going to burst. The burn between her legs was gone, but she could feel her flesh stretching. And then it all eased. She sagged back against Talon.

  “There!” came Lakit’s delighted response, and he reached between her legs with both hands.

  Chelan tried to catch her breath. “My baby,” she whispered. She opened her eyes and attempted to look down, but Talon held her hands tight and her head firmly against his chest.

  Chelan was instantly shot through with fear. “My baby!” she cried. “Is he all right? Let go of me!” And she tried to jerk away from Talon, but he held her fast. Everyone was silent for a moment. Then she heard the cry. A sob caught in her throat. “I want my baby.”

  Through her peripheral vision, she saw Lakit pass the crying infant to Ven, its small body wrapped in cloth. Chelan tried once again to struggle against Talon. “Let go of me!” she yelled again, but his embrace only intensified.

  Chelan was panic-stricken. Straining to see, she watched as Ven produced a syringe and injected the baby. Chelan screamed. “No! What are you doing to my son? Give me my baby!”

  Instantly, the crying ceased, and Ven left.

  Chelan shrieked in terror. She twisted so hard against Talon he was forced to release her to avoid injuring her. She lashed out at him with newfound strength and fury, her fist connecting with his chest. “Give me my son!” she wailed.

  Talon fended off the blows and eventually subdued her once again. Lakit knelt down and looked into her eyes. Her vision was glazed by agony. “Take it easy,” he whispered. “We are not finished here.”

  Chelan strained to get away. Then she slumped into Talon in defeat. She looked up at Lakit. “What did you do to my baby? Why did you take him away?”

  Lakit’s face was solemn. Chelan’s heart stopped beating. She craned her head around and looked at Talon, but he was mute. She felt her hot tears flow as her eyes pleaded with him. “What did you do with my son?” she whispered.