She shook her head, “I don’t think I can.”
“You have to,” he said softly, not looking her in the eye, and then he left.
She got up and lifted the lid and saw scrambled eggs and ham steak and a dish of blueberries with yogurt plus coffee and orange juice.
She robotically shoveled in every bite, drank every last drop of both, and then she slept like the dead. But then she woke up, looked at the clock, and saw that she’d slept 11 hours, then felt carbonated bile and a sour taste rise in her throat.
She dashed to the bathroom and violently threw up and then on the way back to bedroom she got crippling cramps in her stomach and ended up doubled over, on the floor, unable to move, gripping a spindle on the upstairs railing.
Tristan was there. He was lifting her up.
“Hey?”
“Hurts so bad, Tristan,” she cried, “I ate and then I slept all day and now I feel so sick. My stomach hurts. I puked.” She dissolved into whimpers as pain gripped her whole midsection and squeezed it in an invisible vice. This was like the time after that banquet when she was about to get her period but this pain was about ten times fiercer.
He got into bed with her and held her close but she was in so much pain she couldn’t get into a tight enough ball.
She cried out, “I’m f-f-freezing. More blankets?”
Tristan got out of bed and left and returned with another blanket. He got in and pulled her over to him but then looked down at the bed, “What the fuck?”
He pulled the blankets back. She was about to ask why he’d take the blankets away when she was so damn cold but then she looked down and saw what he saw. The sheets were covered in blood.
He lifted her nightie a little. Between her legs was coated in blood.
She choked on a sob, “Oh my God…”
Tristan roared out this horrible gut-wrenching sound and her eyes darted from the blood up toward his face and that’s when she saw the look of absolute anguish fade and the shadow moved across until his face was grey. His eyes went black. His fangs snapped out and they were fucking huge.
Tristan’s freezing cold hand came to her chest and pushed her back onto the bed and his head descended toward the blood and Kyla heard a crash and a bunch of shouting. And then everything went dark. She passed out.-9-She heard voices as she waded into consciousness. She felt an emptiness she’d never felt before. The emptiness wanted to swallow her whole.
She saw Adrian’s face, Lyle’s face, and then she saw black because she let the emptiness have her.
~~~“Kyla?” It was her father.
“Daddy?” She felt like she was little again. She opened her eyes and realized she wasn’t little. She realized where she was. She was in that cottage, in that bedroom, and she was in a fresh nightgown and in the sleigh bed.
Blood. So much blood.
Tristan!
She bolted upright. But Tristan wasn’t there. Her father was there. Claudio was there. Adrian was there. Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, Claudio stood by the door. Her father was in a chair sitting beside the bed.
“Tristan!” she yelled.
“Tristan’s locked down,” Adrian said.
“Locked down? Like… like Celia?”
“For your protection initially, and now ours as well. We’ll be releasing him as soon as is feasible. We’re still trying to talk him down.”
“Down from what?”
“In his words? From turning this place into a bloodbath,” Adrian replied and didn’t crack a smile.
Kyla rubbed her eyes. Her stomach cramped up. She winced.
Lyle passed her a glass of water. She took a sip.
“You’re dehydrated, drink all of it,” Adrian said and put a thermometer in her ear and took a reading while Kyla drank. He looked at it, looked at Claudio, and gave a nod and then Claudio opened the door. Two women in orange scrubs rushed in. Adrian and Lyle rose.
Lyle kissed her on the forehead, “I’ll come see you tomorrow.”
“Wait, where is Tristan. What’s going on?’
Adrian stopped at the door. Lyle and Claudio left.
“You’re going to have a rough night so these are nurses who will help you through it as the rest of that medication runs its course. Tomorrow we’ll talk and we’ll take you to see Tristan. You’ll likely still be bleeding so he won’t be released until you stop.”
“Huh?”
Adrian said, “Claudio is medicated so that he won’t attack you. I’m glad to see it’s working. Myself and Lyle are unaffected because we’re your father and grandfather. It’s helpful that mother nature protected you that way.”
“What’s going on? What medication?”
“You’re in the midst of a medication-induced abortion. Couldn’t be helped. We weren’t ready but Tristan didn’t listen to reason. As it’s a supernatural pregnancy it’ll be rough for you. I’m sorry about that. But you’ll survive it.”