Qhuinn stood in the corner of the operating room, his eyes locked on Layla as Manny performed
yet another internal exam on her, the male ducked in between her spread thighs, a sheet
covering what was going on to preserve her privacy.
āItās too soon . . .ā Qhuinn shook head and tried to keep his voice down. āItās too soonāthis isnāt
supposed to be happening now. Why is thisāitās not supposed to be happening. Jesus, this is too
early. What the fuckāthe ultrasound said it was okay.ā
Not happening, his brain insisted. This had to be some kind of a dream.
Yup, any minute, he was going to wake up and find Blay next to him in their bedroomāand he
was going to take that deep, relieved breath you got to suck in when you realized that the bogeyman
whoād been terrorizing you was in fact nothing but a figment of your imagination. Or maybe a backedup
āWake up,ā he muttered. āWake up now. Wake the fuck up. . . .ā
Blay was, in fact, beside him. But they were not horizontal, and they sure as fuck were not back
up at the big house in their suite of rooms. His male was, however, supporting the shit out of him: the
only thing keeping him standing was Blayās strong arm was around his waist.
Manny retracted his hand from under the sheet and snapped off his bright blue glove. Then he got
up and motioned for Qhuinn and Blay to come over to the bedside.
The fact that Layla was still conscious was testimony to how strong a female she was, but oh,
God, she was pale. And there was so much blood, filling the pan under her bottom, scenting the air
like a stain in the oxygen molecules themselves.
Manny put his hand on Laylaās shoulder and addressed her. āThe bleeding is slowing. Thatās
good news. But now both of them are showing signs of fetal distress, with the boyās heart rate
beginning to fluctuate as well. Moreover, I remain particularly worried about the little girl, what with
her being the smaller of the two of them. I strongly recommend that we do a Cesarean sectionāā
āBut itās too soon!ā Layla looked at Qhuinn in a panic. āItās too soonāā
Manny took the femaleās hand. āLayla, youāve got to listen to me. The babies are strugglingābut
more to the point, you are not going to make it unless we get them out.ā
āI donāt care about me! You said that the bleeding is stoppingāā
āItās slowing. But weāre running out of time and I need you as strong as possible when I put you
āI donāt care what you do to me! You need to keep them insideāā
Layla hitched a breath as another contraction hit her, and Qhuinn rubbed his face. Then he
motioned for Manny to step away with him.
Lowering his voice, Qhuinn said, āWhat the fuckās going on?ā
Mannyās eyes were steady in the midst of all the panic, a harbor in the thrashing sea of emotions.
āIāve spoken with Havers. Thereās nothing that can be done to keep the pregnancy going. On
ultrasound, itās obvious that the placenta is separating from the uterus. Itās exactly what happened to
Bethāthis is extremely common, especially with multiples, and the cause of most maternal and fetal
deaths in your species. Layla hasnāt done anything wrongāshe did everything right. But the bottom
line is, the pregnancy is failing and weāre at the decision point where we need to save her life, and try
There was a pause. And Qhuinn ran the words that had been spoken to him back and forth in his
head. āWhat about their lungs? We need another couple of nightsāā
āWe have special breathing apparatuses from Havers that can help them. Weāve got the right
equipment. If we get them out, I know the protocol and so do Ehlena and Jane.ā
Qhuinn scrubbed his face and wanted to vomit. āOkay, all right. Weāre going to do it.ā
Shoring himself up, he went to Layla, stroking her blond hair back from her clammy face. āLayla
āIām sorry! Iām so sorry! This is my faultāā
āShh, shh, shh.ā He continued to run his hand over her head to soothe her protests. āListen to me
āno, listen me. Hear what Iām sayingāthere is no fault in this. And your life matters. I canāt lose . . .
Iām not going to lose everyone in this, okay? Itās in the Scribe Virginās hands, all of this. Whatever
happens, itās what is meant to be.ā
āIām so sorry. . . .ā Her eyes clung to his, tears pouring out of the far corners, wetting the thin
white pillow under her head. āQhuinn, forgive me.ā
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. āThere is nothing to forgive. But we need to do thisāā
āI donāt want to lose your youngāā
āItās our young.ā He glanced over at Blay. āWe did this together, and no matter the outcome, Iām
at peace, okay? You did the absolute best you could, but at this point, we need to move forward.ā
āWhereās Blay?ā Another contraction hit her and she gritted her teeth, straining in the pain.
Blay came over. āIām right here. Iām not leaving.ā
At that moment, Jane came in. āHow are we?ā
āLayla,ā Qhuinn said. āWe need to do this. Now.ā
As Layla lay on the gurney, her body outside of her control, her youngsā futures in doubt, she felt as
though she were in a speeding car, heading for a sharp turn on a slick road. The metaphor was so apt
that every time she blinked, she felt the careening velocity, knew the ringing screech of the tires,
braced herself for impact as she went into a flipping, tire-over-roof accident that was surely going to
In fact, the pain of the impact was already with her, emanating from the small of her back in a
steady hum, and then peaking in contractions that racked her belly.
āItās time,ā Qhuinn said, his mismatched eyes burning with a will so fierce she was momentarily
It was as if he were prepared to go to battle with death for her and the young.
She looked at Blay. And when the male nodded, she found herself nodding back. āOkay.ā
āCan we feed her?ā Qhuinn asked.
Jane stepped in and shook her head. āWe need her stomach empty for the anesthesia. And we have
to put her under, thereās no time for an epidural.ā
āWhatever you . . .ā Layla cleared her throat. āWhatever needs to be done to save the young . . .ā
She remembered when this had happened to Beth, what had had to be done to save her and L.W. If
it turned out Layla could have no more young? Then so be it. She would have two. Or . . . perhaps
Oh, dearest Virgin Scribe, she prayed as she started to weep. Take me. Leave the young and take
Turning her head, she looked through her tears at those two neonatal medical cribs that had been
rolled in and put against the wall. She tried to picture the young in them, small but alive.
Moaning, she was struck by an absurd impulse to just get up and walk out, as if this were a movie
she could depart from because she didnāt like the plotline. Or a book she could close because she
didnāt care for the direction in which the author had taken the characters. Or a painting she could
abandon with her brush because the scene she had intended to depict had turned into a mess.
Suddenly, there seemed to be people everywhere. Vishous had come in, his goateed face covered
with a surgical mask, his street clothes hidden beneath a large sterile yellow suit. Ehlena was there.
Qhuinn and Blay were suiting up. Manny and Jane were speaking back and forth in a kind of
shorthand that didnāt register.
āI canāt breathe . . .ā she groaned.
Abruptly, some kind of alarm went off, the shrill sound separating out from the generalized
beeping of the machines that were monitoring her and the young.
āI canāt . . . breathe. . . .ā
Layla had no idea who said that. Or even if it had been a male or a female that had spoken.
A strange feeling came over her, as if she were submerged in lukewarm water that muffled her
sight and her hearing and caused her body to become weightless. The pain also drifted off, and that
If she was hurting, she was still alive, correct?
As the abyss came up and claimed her consciousness, like a monster devouring prey, she tried to
shout for help, to beg for the lives of her young, to apologize once again for transgressions only she
There was no more time left for her.
Ā Qhuinn held his breath as the anesthesia was administered to Layla and a dark brown, pungentsmelling
antiseptic was splashed across her round belly. And he further did not breathe as
Manny, Jane, Ehlena, and Vishous clustered around the operating table, two on each side, their gloved
fingers picking up and trading instruments back and forth.
You could scent the blood in the air as the cut was made, and Qhuinn felt the floor go into a wave
pattern under his feet, sure as if the tile had liquefied.
As Blayās hold bit into his arm, it was hard to tell whether that was because the male was
worried about Qhuinn fainting, or because he himself was likewise unsteady. Probably some of both.
How did it come to this? Qhuinn wondered silently.
But as soon as the thought hit him, he shook his head. What the fuck had he assumed was going to
happen with two young in there?
āIs she all right?ā he barked. āAre they alive?ā
āHere comes one,ā Blay said roughly.
āBaby A,ā Manny pronounced as he handed a little purple bundle to Ehlena.
There wasnāt even a chance to look at the kid. The nurse moved fast, rushing the infant over to
one of two triage beds that had been set up.
Too silent. Motherfuckerāit was too damn quiet.
āIs it alive!ā Qhuinn yelled. āIs it alive!ā
Blay had to hold him backābut then again the lunge forward was ridiculous. Like he could do
anything to help any of this? Oh, and as if he wanted the nurse to be thinking about anything other than
But Ehlena looked over. āYes, he is. He is aliveāwe just need to keep him that way.ā
Qhuinn took no comfort in any of that. How could he when the entity she was intubating and
giving drugs to looked like some kind of tiny alien. A tiny, fragile, wrinkly alien that had nothing in
common with the fat babies heād seen born to humans on T.V. from time to time.
āJesus Christ,ā he moaned. āSo small.ā
The infant wasnāt going to survive. He knew it down to his soul. They were going to lose him and
āBaby B,ā Jane announced as she handed something over to Vishous.
V steamed by with the young, and Qhuinn gasped.
The daughterāhis daughterāwas even smaller. And she wasnāt purple.
She was gray. Gray as stone.
All at once, the memory he had taken with him when he had serviced Layla during her needing
came back to him. It was from when he had nearly died himself, and had gone up unto the Fade, and
had faced off at a white door in the midst of a foggy white landscape.
He had seen an image on that door.
The image of a young female with blond hair and eyes that were shaped like hisāeyes that had
changed color before him from the precise shade of Laylaās to the mismatched blue and green of his
own. With an animalās cry of pain, he bellowed into the OR, screaming with an agony he had never felt
He had guessed wrong. He had . . . been wrong. He had misinterpreted what he had seen.
The vision on the door had been not the prediction of a daughter to come.
But a daughter he had lost in birth.
A daughter . . . who had died.
For the first time in his adult life, Vishous froze in the midst of a medical emergency. It was only a
split second, and he came back online an instant later . . . but there was something about the little
lifeless body in his palms that stopped, literally, everything about him.
He would never forget the sight of it.
Wouldnāt forget, either, the scream that Qhuinn let out.
Shaking himself into focus, however, he snapped back into action to do the one thing that might
possibly help. With steady hands, he got a small tube down the infantās throat, slid a mask over the
face and hooked the breathing apparatus up to a piece of medical equipment that was not human, but
strictly for vampires. When he initiated the flow, a fortified, oxygenated saline solution went into the
youngās lungs, flushing out the sacs, blowing them open . . . and then sucking out the liquid, which was
sent into a filtering system that would clean it, reoxygenate it, and send it back in.
Using his thumb, he pressed into the achingly tiny chest, massaging the heart with a rhythm.
Bad color. Really wrong color. Goddamn gray of a headstone.
And the young was lax, nothing moving, the arms and legs that were scrawny and wrinkled as a
hatchlingās flopping loose from shoulders and hips.
The eyes were open, the all-white orbs showing no pupils or irises because the little girl was so
āCome on, wake up . . . come on . . .ā
Nothing. There was nothing.
Without thinking, he shouted over his shoulder, āPayne! Get me fucking PayneāRIGHT NOW!ā
He didnāt know who responded to the command. He didnāt fucking care. All that mattered was
that a millisecond later, his sister was right next to him.
āWake her up, Payne,ā he barked. āWake this kid upāI am not having this on my conscience for
the rest of my goddamn life. You wake up this fucking kid right fucking now!ā
Okay, yeah, his delivery sucked. But he didnāt careāand neither did his sister, evidently.
And she knew just what to do.
Extending her open hand directly over the infant, she closed her eyes. āSomeone hold me up. I
Qhuinn and Blay were on it, each of the males taking one of her elbows. And, shit, V wanted to
say something to the pair, offer some kind of . . . anything . . . but there was nothing that could be
helped with mere words here.
āPayne, you gotta do this.ā
As the aching syllables hit the airwaves, it was a shock to realize that he had spoken them, that it
was his voice that was cracking, that he, the one male on the planet who never begged, ever, for
anything, was the person uttering the shakyā
And then he saw the light, the glow that, unlike the destructive force that he housed in his palm,
was a gentle healing power, a rejuvenating force, a blessed, miracle-giving benediction.
āQhuinn?ā his sister said roughly. āQhuinn, give me your hand.ā
Vishous got the fuck out of the way, although he had to still hold the breathing mask in place
because the infant was too premature for even the smallest one Havers had.
Qhuinn extended an arm, and, shit, the male was shaking so badly it was as if he were standing on
an agitator. Payne took what he put out, though, and laid it under her glowing palm so that the energy
had to pass through his flesh to get to the infantās.
The brother gasped and jerked in response, his teeth beginning to chatter, his flushed face
āI need another set of hands over here,ā Vishous barked. āWe need to keep Dad off the floor!ā
Next thing he knew, Manny was by Qhuinn, the human jacking a hold on the guy around the waist.
As energy began to leave him and channel into the young, Qhuinn started to breathe hard, his chest
pumping, his mouth falling open, his lungs clearly burningā
The infant changed color in the blink of an eye, all that was matte and gray and the terrible hue of
death going red and pink.
And then the tiny hands, the impossibly tiny, but nonetheless perfectly formed, hands twitched.
And so with the legs, the feet kicking once, twice. And so with the belly, the hollow pit expanding and
contracting along with the beat of the machine.
Payne didnāt stop. And Qhuinn lost his footing, only Blayās strong arms and Mannyās extra
support keeping his body from the floor.
Longer, Vishous thought. Keep going longer. Bleed the well dry if you have to. . . .
And that was exactly what his wonderful sister did. She kept pumping energy from herself into
and through Qhuinn, where it was magnified and focused, and thereafter funneled into the young.
She kept going until she passed out cold.
Qhuinn wasnāt far behind her.
But Vishous couldnāt worry about them. He just kept his eyes on the young, looking for signs that
the life force wouldnāt hold . . . that the gray would return and signal deathās renewed grip on the little
thing . . . that the miracle would be but a short, cruel respite. . . .
Donāt you do this, Mother, he thought. Donāt you do this to these good people.
Donāt take this life from them.
Ā ***************************************************************
Ā Rhage was probably crushing Mary with the hold he had on her, but she didnāt seem to notice.
Good thing, as he doubted he could have loosened his arms.
All around him, he was both dimly and achingly aware of his brothers, their mates and the
Chosen, the household and community standing together in the midst of the tragedy on the far side of a
door that was too flimsy to contain all the ensuing grief.
Rhage just couldnāt help thinking about Bitty. God, if he got the chance . . . if he and Mary got the
chance, he would never rest from protecting that little girl. Making sure she got the life she deserved,
the education she needed to be independent, the grounding to know that she was never without a
home, no matter how far away she traveled.
āItās so awful,ā Mary whispered. āSo terrible. Thereās just been too much death around here
The door opened wide and Blay exploded out of that OR like heād been shot from a cannon.
āSheās alive!ā he yelled. āTheyāre both alive! Theyāre alive! And Layla is stable!ā
There was a moment of total silence.
As if everybody who was in the corridor kind of had to reprocess everything, switch to a
different track, change to another gear.
āAnd Qhuinnās out cold on the floor!ā
Ā Ā āHi, mahmen, youāre awake now.ā
As Layla heard the male voice above her, she realized that, yes, her eyes were open, and yes, she
āYoung!ā she shouted.
A sudden burst of energy had her trying to sit up, but gentle hands eased her back down. And as a
flare of pain clawed its way across her lower belly, Qhuinn put his face in front of hers.
He was smiling. From ear to ear.
Yes, his eyes were red rimmed, and he was pale and a little shaky, but the male was smiling so
widely, his jaw had to hurt.
āEverybodyās okay,ā he said. āOur daughter gave us a helluva scare, but both of them are okay.
Breathing. Moving. Alive.ā
A tidal wave of emotion swamped her, her chest literally exploding with a combination of relief,
joy, and the afterburn of the terror sheād felt before theyād put her under. And as if he knew exactly
what she was feeling, Qhuinn started hugging her, wrapping her in his armsāand she tried to hug him
back, but she didnāt have the strength.
āBlay,ā she said roughly. āWhereāsāā
āRight here. Iām right here.ā
Over Qhuinnās big shoulder, she saw the other male and wished she could reach for himāand as
if he were aware of that, he came in, too, all three of them wrapping up in an embrace that left them
wobbly, and yet somehow stronger, too.
āWhere are they?ā she asked. āWhere . . .ā
The males inched back, and the way Qhuinn looked at Blay made her nervous. āWhat,ā she
demanded. āWhatās wrong.ā
Blay took her hand. āListen, we want you to be ready, okay? Theyāre very small. Theyāre
really . . . very small. But theyāre strong. Both Doc Jane and Manny checked them overāEhlena, too.
And we video-conferenced with Havers and reviewed everything with him. Theyāre going to be here
for a while on the water ventilators, until their lungs mature and they can breathe and eat on their own,
but theyāre doing great.ā
Layla found herself nodding as she swallowed a load of fear back down into her gut. Looking at
Qhuinn, she teared up again. āI tried to keep them ināI triedāā
He shook his head firmly, that blue-and-green stare dead serious. āIt was an issue with your
placenta, nalla. There was nothing you could have done or not done to prevent it from happening. It
was exactly the same thing that happened with Beth.ā
She put her hands on her much-flatter stomach. āDid they take my womb?ā
Blay smiled. āNo. They got the young out and stopped the bleeding. You can have more young if
the Virgin Scribe provides.ā
Layla looked down her body, feeling a rush of relief. And also sadness for the Queen. āI was
āYes, you were,ā Qhuinn said.
āWe were all lucky,ā she corrected, glancing at them both. āWhen may I see them?ā
Qhuinn stepped back. āTheyāre right over there.ā
Layla struggled to sit up, taking the fathersā arms. And then she gasped. āOh . . .ā
Before she knew it, she was getting off the mattress, even though it hurt, and in spite of the fact
that she was connected to about a hundred and fifty thousand pounds of medical equipment.
āShit,ā Qhuinn said. āAre you sure you want toāā
āOkay, weāre moving,ā Blay interjected. āWe are up and moving.ā
With a single-minded focus she had never known before, she didnāt pay any attention to anything
other than getting over to her young: not the way the males scrambled to organize the rolling monitors,
or how much she had to lean on various arms and shoulders, or how much pain her abdomen hollered
The incubators were up against the wall, side by side, separated by about three feet. Brilliant
blue lights were shining down on the tiny little forms, and oh . . . Fates . . . the wires, the tubes . . .
That was when she got a little light-headed.
āDonāt you love the sunglasses,ā Blay commented.
Suddenly, she laughed. āThey look like mini-Wraths.ā Then she got serious. āAre you sure . . .ā
āPositive,ā Qhuinn said. āTheyāve got a ways to goābut, shit, they are fighters. Especially her.ā
Layla inched closer to her daughter. āWhen can I hold them?ā
āDoc Jane wants us to give them a little time. Tomorrow?ā Blay said. āMaybe the night after?ā
āIāll wait.ā Even though it would be the hardest thing she would ever do. āIāll wait for however
She turned the other way and looked at her son. āDearest Virgin Scribe, does he look like you,
āI know, right?ā Qhuinn shook his head. āItās just crazy. I mean . . .ā
āWhat are you going to name them?ā Blay asked. āItās time for you two to think of names.ā
Oh, indeed, Layla thought. In the vampire tradition, youngsā births were not anticipated by any
kind of planning. There were no showers as humans did, no lists of boy names and girl names, no
stacks of diapers, racks of bottles, or even bassinettes and booties. For vampires, it was considered
bad luck to get ahead of oneself and assume a healthy birth.
āYes,ā she said, refocusing on her daughter. āWe must have a naming.ā
At that moment, the little tiny infant girl moved her head and seemed to look up, through the
sunglasses and the Plexiglas, past the distance between mother and child.
āSheās going to grow up to be beautiful,ā Blay murmured. āAbsolutely beautiful.ā
āLyric,ā Layla blurted. āShe shall be called Lyric.ā
Blay recoiled. āLyric? You know, thatās my . . . do you know thatās my mahmenās . . .ā
As the male stopped speaking, Qhuinn started to smile. And then he bent down and kissed Laylaās
cheek. āYes. Absolutely. Sheāll be called Lyric.ā
Blay blinked a couple of times. āMy mahmen will be . . . incredibly honored. As am I.ā
Layla squeezed the maleās hand. āYour parents shall be the only granhmen and father these young
will eāer know. It is fitting that one of their names be represented. And for our sonāmayhap we shall
petition the King for a Brotherās name? It seems fitting, as their sire is a brave and noble member of
the Black Dagger Brotherhood.ā
āOh, I donāt know about that,ā Qhuinn hedged.
āYes.ā Blay nodded. āThatās a good idea.ā
Qhuinn started shaking his head. āBut I donāt know ifāā
āSo it is settled,ā Layla announced.
When Blay nodded, Qhuinn put his palms up. āI know when Iām beat.ā
Layla winked at Blay. āHeās a smart one, isnāt he.ā
Ā *************************************************************
The ribbon and naming ceremony
Standing just inside the double doors, Layla, Qhuinn, and Blay were beside the incubators, which
had been moved into the gym and skirted with white fabric just for this sacred occasionāand which
would be removed back to Laylaās room as soon as this was over. Beside them, in a wheelchair and a
suit and tie, Luchas was very much a part of the family, even though he remained quiet.
In vampire tradition, this ceremony was critical, and not something that could wait, considering
that the medical team felt as though the infants were stable enough.
Still, everything was kept dark, and no one spoke so as not to agitate the young.
After all in the household, including servants, Trez, iAm and iAmās mate, as well as all the
Chosen and the directrix, and also Blaylockās parents, had assembled together, Wrath and the Queen
entered with George between them, and L.W. in Wrathās arms.
Ordinarily, there would be long speeches in the Old Language, but in deference to the infants,
āWe gather here, this night, to welcome into the community the blooded son and the blooded
daughter of the Black Dagger Brother Qhuinn, son of Lohstrong, and the Chosen Layla, begotten
of the Primale and the Chosen Helhena, and the adopted son and the adopted daughter of
Blaylock, blooded son of Rocke and of Lyric. May these young be of health and strength and long
life, a testimony to the love of their fathers and their mother. Now, as King, I confer unto this
femaleāāWrath put out his hand and Beth guided him over to where the tiny female layāāthe name
of Lyric, in honor of her grandmahmen on her father Blaylockās side.ā
As Blayās mahmen sniffled and Qhuinn and Blay put their arms around her, Wrath laid his hand
From all around, a burst of energy bubbled through the crowd, and Rhage shook his head, amazed
that he got to be a witness to this.
With his royal dagger hand on the little maleās bassinette, Wrath pronounced, āIn recognition of
this young sireās status as a member of the Black Dagger Brotherhood, it has been petitioned unto
me that I confer, as King, a Brotherhood name upon this male. I have considered the request and
deem it appropriate. I hereby choose the venerable name Rhampage.ā
A growl of approval rose up from the Brothers, and Rhage was right there with the othersā
because he knew that he was welcoming that male into their midst.
This was done right, he thought. This was the old way. The proper way. The way that preserved
It was a very good, very old name.
With his son in his arms and his shellan at his side, Wrath then placed the sacred red and black
ribbons of the First Family on the skirting of both incubators.
And then, one by one, everybody did the same, each family unit heading up together, Phury and
Cormia and Z, Bella and Nalla going after Wrath and Beth, followed by everyone from V, Jane, Payne
and Manny, to Rehv and Ehlena, and John Matthew and Xhex.
When it was their turn, Rhage smiled down at his females and they approached the incubators. It
was hard not to be emotional as three hands reached forward with his bloodlineās blue, black, and
silver lengths, first on Lyricās skirting and then on Rhampageās. And afterward, all three of them went
and hugged the family members.
The Chosen went next, and then Trez and iAm and iAmās Queen put a ruby from the Territory on
each of the youngās bassinettes as a way of participating. After that, the doggen went, their ribbons
thinner, but no less important.
