I rolled my eyes, fighting through the pain of another contraction. I realized I probably would’ve been better off trying to do this on my own, instead of having two bumbling guys figuring it out as they went along. Still, there was some comfort in company.
Inside my body, the baby was readying itself for exit. The pain was overwhelming, my lungs heaving against the strain, my body drenched in a sheen of sweat. Every cell was screaming out for a fix of the Saccharine sweetblood I was addicted to, needing it to numb the pain that was coursing through every vein, shooting across every synapse, setting my mind alight. Just one drop of it in my bloodstream and I would have felt better, I was convinced of it. I thought about screaming for a dose, but Navan and Mort were too busy trying to figure out the birthing process. Evidently, this wasn’t like anything they’d experienced before. That made three of us.
Blood roared in my ears as an unbearable agony rocketed through me, taking me by surprise. It filled every sense, blocking the world out in an impenetrable haze of suffering. Squeezing my eyes shut, I let the sensation take me, the extreme pain suddenly stopping as my spirit seemed to detach from my physical body. It drifted through a tunnel of visions, like the kind I’d seen during Kaido’s experiments, and during the fight with Ezra, after downing the power serum.
I was in the endless dark of space, tearing through it at breakneck speed. Passing planets and moons, and stations and ships, every single one alight with burning flames. With some scenes, I could peer closer, seeing a never-ending array of limp, splayed-out bodies, each figure drained dry. Men, women, children, elderly, it didn’t matter. All across the landscape of a million planets, there was nothing but death and destruction, a disease infecting everything it touched.
At the center of it all, the images slowed to reveal Ezra hovering inside a golden circle of light, his wings outstretched in a symbol that was at once twisted and angelic. Standing in front of him was a girl, a bit younger than me, her skin a barely discernible shade of gray, her majestic wings tucked in behind her. Only, they weren’t the same leathery black as Ezra’s. Instead, they were a troubling shade of blood red, shot through with gold and silver. Her eyes were so familiar—a slate gray. Ezra’s hands were on her shoulders, his clawed fingers gripping her tight. Had she done all of this? Was she responsible for all of this death?
I tried to reach her, wanting to pull her away from Ezra’s influence, but unseen hands tugged at my flesh, yanking me back.
I know you… I know you… You are mine! You can’t have her!
She opened her mouth, as if to speak, but the wail of a newborn came out instead. Behind her, Ezra was repeating my name, over and over. In a split second, the vision crumbled, the sound of a baby crying snapping me back into reality.
“Riley? Riley, can you hear me?” It was Navan speaking, not Ezra. He was calling to me, bringing me back from the edge of a different world. I blinked slowly, and his face started coming into focus. He stood beside me with a baby in his arms—our baby. The umbilical cord had already been cut, and her small arms were flailing. “We’ve got a little girl,” he said, smiling.
“And count yourself lucky you missed that ‘Liberation’ malarkey. No wonder everyone thinks coldbloods are a bunch of backward monsters. I thought he was going to eat her alive!” Mort muttered, looking shell-shocked.
I ignored Mort, turning my gaze toward the baby in Navan’s arms. “A little girl?”
He nodded.
She was so small, her skin the same color as mine, though tinged with the faintest hint of gray. A pair of wings were tucked behind her, forming the perfect cradle. To my shock, they were a deep, blood-red shade, shot through with gold and silver. I gulped, pushing my fears aside—those visions didn’t mean anything. None of the previous ones had come true, so why should this?
I lifted my finger to her perfect, miniature hand. She gripped it, her slate-gray eyes trying to focus on my face.
“She’s so strong,” I whispered, overcome with emotion as Navan handed the baby to me. I held her tentatively, my arm behind her head. Her wings were surprisingly soft to the touch. Mort moved over to me, reaching out with his own finger.
“She really is!” Mort cooed, as the baby squeezed his finger. “I knew she would be. I just knew she would be.” Mort was clearly besotted, a dopey smile on his face as tears glittered in his eyes.
“Are you crying?” I asked.
“No… I just got some placenta in my eye, that’s all. It’s your fault, spraying your innards all over the place.” He wiped his eyes quickly, but the dopey smile remained.
Navan chuckled. “There was no innard-spraying, I assure you.”
“Good to know,” I said, staring down at the most beautiful little girl I’d ever seen. I was biased, of course, but I didn’t care. Despite the pain and the visions, I’d never been so happy in all my life, and, judging by the expressions of Mort and Navan, neither had they.
“You still not sold on Funch?” Navan teased.
“You can’t call a kid Funch,” Mort shot back. “Coldbloods really are sick bastards. Do you know what that means in shifter?”
Navan looked horrified as Mort told him. “Yeah, maybe Funch isn’t so good after all.”
“I’ve thought of a name,” I admitted shyly. “How about Nova? It means ‘new’ where I come from, and this little beauty is brand new.”
Navan nodded thoughtfully. “Nova… Nova… Nova…” He tested it out, his smile widening. “I like it. I like it a lot. In Vysanthean, it means ‘fighting spirit.’”
I glanced at Mort. “Tell me it doesn’t mean anything in shifter?”
“It does. It is our word for ‘love.’” There was no denying his tears now as they fell freely from his red-veined eyes. “It’s the most perfect name,” he wailed, gazing down at little Nova with sheer adoration.
I wished our happiness could have stayed like that forever, but a dark cloud was moving in, threatening to destroy everything. Now that the baby had been born, Ezra and Aurelius were going to kill Navan. And, since I wasn’t meant to have survived the birth, I guessed I was on the chopping block, too.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“I have to let them in,” Mort said softly, looking toward the door.
I nodded, knowing it was inevitable. “Fine. But they don’t touch her.”
“If they try, they’ll have me and the grayskin to get through,” Mort agreed, heading for the clinic door and opening it out. Ezra and Aurelius were waiting just beyond, pacing the hallway with a cluster of curious coldbloods standing farther down.
Ezra entered first, pushing past Mort to reach the bed. Navan stood in his way, stopping him from getting too close, while Mort skirted around the side to bolster the blockade. I smiled at them, though it was probably futile. They’d pry Nova out of my hands one way or the other. It was only a matter of time.
“Stand aside,” Ezra demanded. “I wish to hold it.” I could see the disgust and excitement on his face as he stared down at the baby in my arms.
“You’re not touching her,” Navan hissed, his eyes darkening. “You don’t need to touch her to see that she’s healthy. Mort will do all the checks you ask, but you’re not getting your hands on her until… well, until I’m not in the way anymore.”
Mort nodded, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah. What he said.”
“Stand aside!” Ezra barked.
“You’re not touching her. What part of that don’t you understand? You’re not holding her, you’re not getting close to her, and that’s final.” Navan stood taller, his muscles tensing for a fight. I didn’t want Ezra or Aurelius to hold my baby, but I didn’t want any violence breaking out either. Nova was sleeping, and the noise would only disturb her.
“You dare to tell me what I can and can’t do?” Ezra was getting angrier by the second, while Aurelius simply smirked. “I will hold it!”
“For starters, you can stop calling her ‘it.’ She’s a she, and her name’s Nova,” Mort fired back. “And if you try
to come any closer, I’ll make a flesh wall between us. There’s a sight you don’t want to see—and I’ll never get my figure back if I do it, but I’m willing to make an exception for Nova.”
Ezra scoffed. “You named it?”
“Why wouldn’t we?” I rasped, my whole body resting on the brink of exhaustion.
Ezra took a step forward, but Mort cut him off. “I mean it,” he warned, morphing out of the shape of Doctor Ulani and beginning to stretch out his pooling flesh. The rebel leader looked horrified.
“Listen, you shifter scum, after all the deceitful things you’ve done, I’ll see to it that you’re the next one in the line of fire, do you understand?” he spat. “As soon as we’re rid of that embarrassment to the coldblood race, who’s responsible for creating this abomination, you’ll be taking his place.” He jabbed a finger at Navan.
Suddenly, everything felt too real. I had a baby in my arms, whom I loved with all my heart—an instant, overwhelming love that words couldn’t describe—but she wasn’t going to be mine for long. They’d kill Navan, they’d kill Mort, they’d take what they needed from Nova, then come for me and kill me, too. I didn’t know if they’d keep Nova around for a while, in case they needed fresh samples, but they’d definitely execute her at some point down the line. Being what she was, she couldn’t be allowed to live. It was like Mort had said: in some corners of the universe, such things simply weren’t tolerated.
“What are you going to do with her?” I whispered, my throat choked with gut-wrenching sobs. I’d never understood the true meaning of heartache until that very moment, feeling like my heart might actually shatter into a million pieces under the grief of not knowing what our future might be—what her future might be.
Ezra shot me a cold look. “Lazar is going to take a sample from it. We’ll keep the thing alive as long as it’s useful to us. It might never see the light of day, but it’ll be permitted life for a while longer.”
It wasn’t much of a consolation, and I hadn’t expected to feel comforted. “That’s not good enough. You’d never kill a child. Not even you are cold enough to do that,” I said. “So, let us stay together—keep us locked up if you have to, but let us stay together. Me, Navan, Nova… and Mort. Let him live, too. Nova needs her father, and I need him, too.”
Ezra snorted. “I don’t understand what the big deal is. I never had a mother and father, and I turned out just fine. That thing will be fine, too.” He smiled icily. “Besides, it’ll have you for a while yet, until it can be healthy on its own. Once your usefulness has come to an end, you won’t have to worry about its future anymore because you won’t be around to see it.”
“Shall I?” Aurelius murmured eagerly.
Ezra turned to him. “Yes, seize him. He should never have been allowed to enter this room in the first place. I’ve already been too lenient with you, Riley, and now it’s time you learned that you have no power to make demands here.”
Aurelius beckoned for two guards, the three of them advancing on Navan. Mort tried to build his promised flesh wall, but he wasn’t fast enough, and the guards knocked his overstretched figure to the side of the room. In Aurelius’s hands, I saw the flicker of electromagnetic cuffs ready to capture Navan. Tears coursed from my eyes as I struggled to sit up, wanting to do something. Had I not had Nova in my arms, I could’ve lunged to his aid, but her tiny, vulnerable form held me back. This wasn’t a battle I could fight.
“Get your hands off me!” Navan roared, as one of the guards leapt toward him, brandishing a shock stick. A shiver of electricity ran through Navan’s body, making him spasm as the other guard shoved him forward, where Aurelius was ready with the cuffs.
“Let him go!” I screamed, but nobody was listening.
They’d almost wrestled him from the clinic when Lazar burst into the room, panting heavily, clutching at his sides. Judging by the sweat on his brow, he’d run from the other side of the space station. Mort had told me that’s where the alchemy labs were kept.
“Stop!” Lazar gasped. “Ezra, I won’t distill your immortality elixir unless you spare Navan’s life, and those of his wife and daughter. I won’t be able to function if I have to face the thought of my nephew’s death.”
Ezra narrowed his eyes. “What did you just say?”
Lazar stood a little taller, catching his breath. “I said, I won’t distill your elixir if you execute my nephew and his family. I won’t be able to bear it if you do, and you won’t find anyone else who can make the formula correctly. That replicator is made to my specifications, and only I know what quantities are needed, when the time comes.”
I stared at him in amazement, impressed that Lazar had finally developed a sense of courage. It took guts to stand up to a guy like Ezra, and the one-eyed coldblood wasn’t even trembling. His voice was clear, and so was his intent.
An exasperated sigh hissed from Ezra’s throat. “Very well. Your nephew can live for now, but if you ever try something like this again, I’ll see to it that you’re punished. I’m only allowing this transgression because we’ve got to start on the elixir immediately.” His voice was low and menacing, his eyes revealing an unsettling fury. It hadn’t been a good day for Ezra.
“Understood,” Lazar replied, his courage fading slightly.
A tense pause bristled between the two men. “Well?” Ezra asked.
“Chief?”
“Get on with it.”
With a nervous nod, Lazar edged forward, clutching his briefcase. As soon as my eyes drifted toward the case, I felt my craving for the sweetblood return—it reminded me of all the injections, the golden serum flowing deliciously through my bloodstream. I wanted more, and I wanted it now. My hungry eyes stared at Lazar as he approached, his brow furrowing in concern. We hadn’t told him about the addiction, considering there was nothing he could do about administering the serum, but in the last week or so I had a feeling he’d started to suspect something was up.
“I’m just going to take a quick sample, Riley,” he said, retrieving a circular contraption, similar to the one that had revealed my unexpected pregnancy. This one was bigger, with a canister set into the surface, but I imagined it served the same purpose—collecting blood.
“Don’t hurt her,” I replied, pulling Nova closer.
“It will only last a second,” Lazar assured me, pressing the circular device to the side of Nova’s plump thigh. She began to cry as the needle pricked her skin, the canister filling rapidly. Looking up, Lazar flashed an apologetic look. “I might have to take some more later, but this will be all for now.”
I nodded, jiggling Nova gently to try to hush her. “Do I need any more of that growth serum, do you think, to heal the damage of the birth?” I asked hopefully, salivating at the thought of the sweetblood.
Lazar frowned. “I can administer some to you, but I don’t think it will help fix the damage.” There was a hint of subtext in his words, as though he knew what I really wanted it for. “I have other serums for repairing the impact of the birth, which I’ve brought with me. I’ll give them to Navan so he can give them to you later, once you’ve rested a while.”
“Do you have what you need?” Ezra snapped impatiently.
“Yes, Chief.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Get back to the lab!”
“Yes, Chief.” Lazar scuttled away, tucking the sample of blood away in his briefcase.
With my body still hungry for the sensation of the sweetblood, Navan scooped me into his arms. I was still fairly massive from the pregnancy, but he lifted me as though I weighed nothing, while I carried Nova in my arms, holding her close.
Aurelius eyed the child as we passed him, looking a little green. “Why is there so much screaming?” he mumbled, as though in a trance. I wondered if he was thinking about Seraphina giving birth to his own child. He hadn’t told us how far along she was, but I doubted she’d been allowed the luxury of postponing the pregnancy. I shuddered, thinking about some kind of serum being used on her, too.
Honestly, I despised Aurelius more than anyone, even Ezra. And wherever she was, I knew that Seraphina was likely having the same mixed feelings I’d had about her impending child.
Back in the relative safety of our room, I filled the basin with water and began to wash Nova, her little arms shaking as I dabbed away the remnants of the birth. She looked so small and vulnerable, her hands balling into fists. When she was clean, I carried her to the bed and lay down with her in my arms, while Navan snuggled up next to us, one arm around my shoulders, the other reaching for Nova’s little hands. It was impossible to believe that we’d created this tiny, perfect little creature. Yet, somehow, here she was, nestled in my arms, her eyes closed in sleep.
“Can you believe we made her?” Navan cooed, his chest puffed out with pride.
“I can’t, but no matter what Ezra does, I’m so glad we did,” I replied, stroking her chubby cheeks. Nova was undeniably cute, her scarlet wings lying flat against her back, the edges curving around her like she’d been placed in a weird, red banana leaf. As long as I was looking at her, I wasn’t thinking about the sweetblood.
With the most adorable yawn I’d ever seen, she blinked her slate-colored eyes open, staring up at us both in bemusement. I smiled down at her, leaning in to kiss her forehead. She smelled so good I wanted to nibble on her, feeling content to just watch and be with her.
The contentment didn’t last long, however, as a shivering wail of distress reverberated from her tiny lungs, cutting through the air like a dagger. It was precisely the kind of pitch and volume that couldn’t be ignored, which I guessed was the point. For a good ten minutes she continued to cry like that, the volume only getting louder, no matter how much I hushed her in soothing tones. I didn’t have a manual to help me through all of this, but I knew there were four key reasons a baby could be screaming: it was hungry, it was tired, it had soiled itself, or it wanted comfort.
I lifted my shirt and unclipped my bra, holding Nova to my swollen breast. She latched on immediately, nursing with a soft suckling sound that made her look unbelievably cute again. Her tiny hand balled into a fist, which rested contentedly on my chest. It was only as I turned to Navan that I saw his horrified face.