A Vampire's Honor (17 page)

* * *

T
he sound of classical music suddenly filling the air made us all jump. Thanks to Gabriel's determination to broaden my musical horizons, I recognized “Ode to Joy” from Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. It took me a minute or two to realize where it was coming from. “Is that my phone?”

“You said you didn't really care for the ring tone, so I reprogrammed it,” Gabriel confessed. I couldn't deny it. Katy Perry
had
been driving me batty for a little while now. “I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

I took the mobile from his outstretched hand, my irritation with him forgotten the moment I checked caller ID. It was Laycee. I got to my feet and headed out of the room. “I gotta take this.” I said it as a general apology. It seemed wrong to have any type of normal conversation within the same four walls where Aleksei had just described the slaughter of his family.

“Is everything all right?” Gabriel asked when I returned five minutes later.

I nodded. “It was Laycee. She's had the baby.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” Anasztaizia exclaimed, squeezing Aleksei's hand and looking genuinely pleased by the news.

“She wants to see me,” I said, looking at Gabriel.

He knew how much this meant to me. I hadn't been sure that Laycee would ever reach out to me again, not after refusing to invite Gabriel into my old house once she and Jake became its new owners. Laycee didn't want vampires in her life, and though I could understand her reasons, I was also saddened by her decision to exclude Gabriel. Now I was overwhelmed by his generosity at buying me the apartment, which was the perfect compromise. He understood—better, I think, than either Laycee or I did—just how important we were to each other. And how difficult and unnecessary severing our friendship was. And now she had reached out to me with an olive branch.

“Of course she wants to see you,” Gabriel said, putting his arms around me and brushing his lips over mine. “And you must go to her. I'll drive you and I'll stay in the waiting room while you visit.”

It was going to be a long time before I was allowed to go anywhere by myself. I couldn't blame Gabriel for being protective, and truth be told, I felt better knowing he would be with me. But as excited as I was about seeing Laycee and Jake's baby, I felt bad about leaving Aleksei and Anasztaizia.

“No, you must go,” Aleksei said. Sensing my reluctance to leave, he got up from his seat and came to me. “I think this would be a good time for Anasztaizia and me to spend some time alone.” He swallowed up my hands in his. “This has been difficult for her to hear, so I'm thinking a time-out, yes?”

I nodded my head in agreement. That sounded like a very good idea.

* * *

Laycee's new daughter almost made her entrance into the world in the back of her father's police cruiser. Her mother, however, had other ideas. Hell would freeze over before Laycee would let her child slide out onto a seat that had last been graced by the butt of someone with possible criminal tendencies. Needing no other incentive than the threat of never having sex again, Jake hadn't taken any chances. Hitting the cruiser's siren, he'd committed more than a few traffic violations on his way to the hospital. Thirty minutes and a half dozen hard pushes later, his daughter greeted the world.

Laycee had waited until after the rest of her family had all left before calling me. She said she wanted to make sure I wasn't going to be pestered by any awkward questions about Gabriel. I knew her intentions were good, but I wished she hadn't felt it necessary. I could deal with questions about Gabriel, awkward or otherwise. Of course, I had no intention of telling her that.

Propped up in bed, hair brushed, lashes tinted, and wearing just a hint of lip gloss, Laycee looked gloriously radiant. Like Madonna. Jesus's mom, not the singer.

“Hey you,” I said, kissing her brow, “where's the proud papa?”

“I hope at home in bed, sleeping,” Laycee said, giving me a smile that couldn't quite hide her weariness. “He'll be back in the morning.”

“With coffee?” I had no idea about hospital food, but I doubted they were going to serve Starbucks.

“He'd better if he ever wants to sleep with me again.”

“Are you sure you're up for a visit?” I asked. “Not too tired?” It was after midnight.

These days most hospitals are pretty flexible when it comes to visiting hours, even on maternity wards, but I wasn't overly confident such accommodations extended past the witching hour. I'd forgotten, however, that I'd brought a secret weapon with me. Gabriel, all charm and smiles, had convinced the nurse on duty that we just wanted to say a quick hello to the new mom and baby and then we'd be on our way. Scout's honor, cross my heart. I don't know why I was even worried. The guy could pretty much get anything he wanted, and the gushing nurse only touched his arm three times.

“Nah,” Laycee replied, “but if you do see me nodding off, just give me a poke. I might as well start getting used to it.”

I chuckled and let the feel-good moment wash over me before asking, “So, how bad was it?”

At any gathering where Laycee's female relatives were present, the conversation inevitably got around to childbirth. Laycee and I had listened to horror stories that covered such topics as weeklong labor, breech births and forceps delivery, unsympathetic doctors aided by concentration camp nurses, and everyone's favorite—drunk husbands. It was a miracle that any female in her family actually agreed to procreate in the first place, much less do it more than once.

“I don't really know,” Laycee told me with a sigh. “I mean, I know it was painful, especially as there wasn't time to give me an epi or anything—”

“Epi?”

“Epidural.” I nodded as though I knew exactly what it meant to forgo this procedure. “But it was all worth it,” she finished, glowing like one of those big old lights they use for Hollywood premieres. Which was probably how she felt.

At that moment, the door opened, and the nurse who had been gushing over Gabriel now wheeled in a bassinet that was filled with a bundle of adorable pink. She parked it by the side of Laycee's bed.

Once the nurse had left, I pointed to the bassinet. “Can I?”

Laycee nodded. The emotion at seeing her daughter, accompanied by the enormity of the moment, rose up to temporarily rob her of any form of speech. Carefully, I scooped up the bundle and stared down at the wondrous sight in my arms. “What happened to Baby Jake?”

“Guess you can't trust everything you see in an ultrasound.” The beatific smile she gave me only further enhanced the Madonna impression.

“I think you took your mama and papa by surprise,” I cooed at the small face looking up at me from the crook of my arm. “They were expecting you to be a Jake, but I know they'll enjoy having a little girl first so much more.”

At the sound of my voice, Laycee's infant daughter scrunched up her tiny face, yawned, and promptly went back to sleep. I stroked the back of her hand with my pinkie, marveling at the perfection of her tiny fingers, her nails, the intoxicating new-baby smell she had.

“Jake and I decided to name her Jenna Rowan DuPree,” Laycee said softly.

It took a couple of swallows before the lump in my throat shifted enough so I could speak. “Can you do that? I mean is it okay to use DuPree before you and Jake are married?” This was not a point I was well-versed in, never having had a reason to give it much thought before now.

“Um, actually we already are.”

Laycee might not have had an epi-whatever, but I wondered if they still gave women in labor some sort of gas. “Are what?” I asked, confused.

“Married.” I couldn't tell which was worse, her guilt or her embarrassment. “I'm sorry, Rowan, but it all kind of happened so fast. Jake's divorce came through, and we went ahead and had a civil service two days ago.”

“Oh.” My feelings were hurt, but I tried to understand where Laycee was coming from.

“Look, we're going to have a proper church do in a few months, once I've got my figure back,” she said, the words almost falling over themselves in her haste to apologize. “And I promise it'll be an evening ceremony, or at the very least a late-afternoon one.” She reached for my free hand and squeezed it. “Please say you forgive me.”

Of course I did. How could I not? She was my best friend and had been since grade school. And because of me, she had been through the most horrific experience a person could possibly have. I would forgive her anything. Even getting married without me.

“There's nothing to forgive.” I squeezed her back. “And you don't have to make wedding plans to accommodate us. I can be there whenever, and Gabriel can always swing by after dark as long as you're okay with that. I'm sure we can come up with a plausible excuse to explain his absence to Jake.” I dropped my voice to a conspiratorial whisper for the last part.

She looked relieved, actually more than relieved, but it occurred to me this might be the result of fluctuating hormones more than needing my forgiveness. I gave what I hoped was a reassuring smile and then turned my attention back to Baby Jenna in my arms. Although I felt an instant connection to Laycee's baby, I knew in a moment of absolute clarity that I would always be one of those women who make a much better “aunt” than mother. That's not to say that I didn't feel a pang of reluctance when I returned the small pink bundle to her mother.

“Speaking of Eye Candy,” Laycee said conversationally, “I don't suppose he came with you . . . did he?”

I nodded. “He's out in the waiting room.”

“Oh.” She gave me a disappointed look. “Does he have a problem with babies?”

I stared at her
.
Um no, it's more like you have a problem with vampires, or have you forgotten? Of course I didn't say that to her.

Yeah, actually I did. I mean why else would she ask if Gabriel had a problem seeing her baby? Her hormone levels were definitely out of whack.

“No,” I said slowly, thinking how best to answer her question. It was something Gabriel and I had actually talked about on the drive to the hospital. “I think he was more concerned about how you would feel having a vampire around your baby.”

A newborn, her mom, and a vampire . . . it sounded like the start of a really bad joke.

“Well, that's just silly,” Laycee said, giving me my first taste of her mom-logic. “Besides, there's something I want to ask him.”

“And what would that be?”

She told me, and I swear to God, it was the last thing I ever expected.